The Days We Break: Chapter Three
~NCIS~
Setting his plate on the counter by the sink, Tim honestly didn’t think he would ever be able to eat anything ever again. He was stuffed. Shuffling into the living room, Tim couldn’t help smiling a bit at the state of everyone else who had come to Thanksgiving dinner at Ducky’s house. On the couch, Ziva and Jimmy were talking quietly but looking fairly comatose. Jackson was dozing his head slumped to the side in the recliner near the fire and Abby who sat in the opposite chair, was also fast asleep if the soft snoring noise was anything to go by. Tim allowed the coziness of the scene to settle over him; these people were Gibbs’ family, so Tim supposed that they were now his family as well.
One thing was for sure: This thanksgiving was much better than last year’s. Last year, he had forgotten the holiday completely. His mom had shoved five dollars into his hand whilst pushing him out the door of the house they were squatting in and told him to go to the corner store for some food. It would be the first thing he had to eat all day, so Tim had trudged his way through dirty slush and half melted snow. By the time he reached the store, his shoes and the lower half of his pants were wet and Tim was in a bad mood. Which wasn’t improved by the note on the market’s door that announced with its bold letters and cartoon Turkeys, that the store was closed for Thanksgiving and would be open tomorrow. Tim had just stood there and tried not to cry while clutching the now useless money in one hand and furiously wiping at his face with the other. He knew that if he went back to the house looking like he had been crying, Liam would make fun of him for the rest of the night.
Shaking his head to clear the memories from his mind and truly thankful that he was here, Tim went to grab his book when Ducky walked up and stood next to him. In a huff the older man said, “Can you believe that Jethro and Tony have kicked me out of my own kitchen?”
Chuckling lightly at how affronted Ducky sounded, Tim gave him a sympathetic smile. Although he was glad the medical examiner didn’t have to do the mountain of dishes. As he had cooked a lot of the meal they had all just eaten, it wouldn’t seem fair for him to have to wash them as well.
“Well, since I will not be allowed to wash dishes would you like to continue our game of chess?” Ducky asked, gesturing towards the side table and chairs. The chess set was still set up with the pieces exactly where they had left them the last time Gibbs and Tim had come over for dinner.
“Sure,” Tim said enthusiastically. He had enjoyed learning how the game was played, plus Ducky told the best stories as he was teaching.
Tim sat down and tried to reorient himself to where they had left off. He listened intently as Ducky once again went over the moves each piece was allowed to do. Soon they were engrossed in their game with Ducky giving little bits of advice when asked and when felt they were needed. Tim had been a bit embarrassed when he had made mistakes at first, but Ducky had a way of smoothing over his blundering that made learning fun and not stressful. He would weave stories and musings in-between the chess moves and would gently nudge Tim whenever he would get frustrated and started to feel bogged down in what move to make next.
“You’re a good teacher,” Tim commented when there was a lull in the storytelling and he was contemplating his next move.
Ducky looked surprised but then smiled. “Why, thank you, Timothy. I know my brand of imparting information is not everyone’s cup of tea, so to speak, but it gets the job done, in my experience.”
Tim nodded and then moved his knight with a wince because he knew it probably wasn’t the best move, but it was the only one he could think of right then. “I just wanted to say thank you for taking so much time with me, not only with chess but also keeping me company on Thursdays.”
A couple of weeks ago, Jackson had started meeting with other hobbyists on Thursdays at the local VA. So every Thursday afternoon, Jackson would pick Tim up at the library and then drop him off at Ducky’s house. Tim would do his homework until dinner time, and then he would read or they would play chess, depending on their mood. If he got off of work on time, Gibbs would join them for dinner and hang out after. Then they joined Jackson at home.
“Now, Timothy, it is no bother. In fact I have come to look forward to our Thursdays together.” Ducky got a faraway look and his voice lowered like he was mostly talking to himself. “With Mother gone this past year and Jimmy taking more of a lead in Autopsy, I find myself with more time on my hands. Being semi-retired has its perks, but it also has its cons as well. Plus you remind me of a young person I knew once upon a time, someone whom I miss terribly.”
“Who?” Tim asked in a low voice. He almost didn’t want to break the moment of confidence because for all of Ducky’s stories and all he had taught Tim, Tim still didn’t feel like he really knew that much about him.
Tim watched as Ducky hesitated a moment, as though internally struggling with something, before he nodded almost to himself and said, “Come with me.”
Following Ducky into the library, Tim couldn’t help but once again be in awe over the sheer amount of books being held in one room. He was looking forward to Ducky receiving his Christmas gift from Gibbs. Ducky stopped in front of a bookcase and bent down and plucked a rather large black photo album from the bottom shelf. He placed it on the large oak desk that stood in the center of the room.
As Ducky opened the album Tim saw it was an old-fashioned one the kind with black pages and white placeholders to keep the photos in place. Carefully flipping the pages, Ducky turned to the middle of the book and talked softly to himself, “Hm where is it? ….Ah, there it is!”
He gently removed one photo from the middle of the page and, presented it to Tim. Tim didn’t reach for it as it looked fragile, as though at some point it had been crumpled and smoothed back out. Damage lines ran through the photo, but Tim could see a much younger version of Ducky in a uniform and a kid who was obviously a few years younger than him.
At Tim’s questioning look, Ducky said, pointing to the photo, “As you have probably discerned, this is me. The young man standing next to me is my half-brother Nicolas.”
Tim couldn’t help but be surprised. He had never heard of any other family other than Ducky’s mother. Considering how sad Ducky looked as he gazed at the photo, Tim had a feeling this story did not end well.
“My brother was a bright, lively, loving, little boy who deserved better than the brief life that fate seemed fit to give him. I wanted Nicolas to come and live with me, and it almost happened, but my stepmother took him away. I never saw him again. They soon passed away from a car accident,” Ducky said quietly. His accent became heavier as his voice became thick with emotion.
“I’m sorry, Ducky,” Tim said, knowing how insufficient those three words were, but he was never sure how to respond to such stories.
Ducky seemed to pull himself together and smiled at Tim. “Oh, I didn’t share that story with you to make you or myself feel poorly, I wanted you to know that your company is never a burden or a chore. I haven’t spoken much about Nicolas, and it will be good to be able to speak about him freely once again. If you wouldn’t mind me sharing more about him from time to time?”
“No, of course not, Ducky. I would love to hear about him.” Tim meant it. He knew what it was like to hold back parts of your past from people in your life and how much of a burden it could start to feel. He hadn’t been exactly forthcoming with Gibbs about his life pre showing up in Stillwater, mostly because he was embarrassed and ashamed of a lot of what he had been through. Plus he wasn’t sure how to bring the past up, or even if he should. Maybe it would be best to leave it buried.
They returned to their chess game and at first, Ducky seemed quieter, like he was lost in the past, but soon Ducky’s gregarious personality started to shine through once again. They had just finished the game with Tim conceding defeat when Tony and Gibbs came back into the room.
Tony walked up and clapped Tim on the shoulder as he said jovially, “I hear there is a comic book fair happening this weekend that you would like to go to.” At Tim’s eager nod, Tony chuckled and continued, “I am a comic book aficionado myself. Which is your favorite?”
“Batman, but I like anything D.C.” Tim answered, excitement lighting his voice.
Tony clutched at his chest in exaggeration as though in pain. “Say it ain’t so! The betrayal!”
At Tim’s laugh, Tony gave him a wink and then said, “I am a Marvel man myself. Iron man, Captain America, the Avengers-all great comics. So I was thinking. If you want, I could pick you up on Saturday and we could go check out the sale.”
Tim couldn’t agree fast enough and they worked out the details. He couldn’t wait.
~NCIS~
Saturday
The grey clouds hung low in the sky, but so far had not released the rain they seemed to promise. Gibbs held open the door for Tim. Tony had dropped them off out front and was currently searching for a parking spot. The street was jam packed with people and cars, and the store was no less busy as Tim and Gibbs tried to weave their way through the stacks and people that were looking through them. The store was larger than Tim had first thought; the front section was pure comic books, extended back until midway into the store. In the middle was merchandise and at the back stood tables for D&D games and tournaments that were held at the store.
It was the coffee cart that was tucked back into the corner that caught Gibbs’ eye. “I am going to go get a cup of coffee. Do you want anything?”
Glancing at the cart, Tim noticed the very long line, shook his head, and craned his neck to where he could just make out the D.C. section towards the front of the store. Gibbs chuckled at the rapt expression on his son’s face before saying, “Go ahead, I will find you when I am done.”
Smiling his thanks, Tim took off as quickly as the large crowd would let him. Being smaller had its advantages; he wove his way through the crowd easily. The D.C. section butted up against the front window. Tim soon lost himself in the worlds of Gotham, Metropolis, and Themyscira.
He was just reaching for the latest copy of the New 52 Batman when he glanced up and saw a red suburban pull up, but it was who was getting out of the passenger side that had Tim smiling. Placing the comic back on the stand and eager to say hi to his friend, he went out the front door.
Jude was wearing his normal blue long sleeve jean jacket over a black t-shirt and jeans, clothes that were very unsuitable for the chilly weather. Tim made a mental note to see if he could persuade Jude to let him buy him a jacket at a thrift store or something. The older boy had to be half frozen. Tim felt his concern grow the longer he watched him. Jude seemed tired. He had dark circles under his eyes and he was pale. As the suburban pulled away, Jude opened his hand and revealed several bills before he shoved them into his pocket and started down the street.
And in that moment Tim understood.
He felt awareness steal over him slowly at first, and then the realization seemed to explode inside his brain. The various cars he had seen pickup and drop off Jude. His friend’s unfinished sentences or the way he had avoided Tim’s questions on money and supporting himself. He felt stupid. He should have put it all together before now. He has watched his mom live this life for as long as he could remember. Tim almost called out to Jude but in the end decided not to; he needed to think about this and how he could approach his friend. Jude had a lot of pride and considering he hadn’t been forthcoming with Tim about where he got his money left Tim with the feeling that Jude didn’t want him to know. Tim respected that, but at the same time he wanted his one friend to know he didn’t have to hide.
“Hey, Tim, were you waiting for me?”
Tim turned away from the rapidly retreating figure and gave Tony a quick nod and a weak smile. Tony held open the door for him, and as they went inside Tim’s mind was going a million miles a minute. He could feel his anxiety start to ramp up, so when Tony started in on Marvel vs. D.C., Tim allowed himself to be distracted, vowing to think about it later.
~NCIS~
Saturday night
Gibbs was in the kitchen where he was putting the finishing touches on the marinade. He was planning on grilling the steaks Sunday evening. After pouring the marinade over the steaks in the Tupperware container, Gibbs put the lid on and checked to make sure it was sealed tight before he gave it a good shake so the steaks were thoroughly coated. Glancing at the clock over the doorway, he saw it was already going on ten o’clock. Gibbs stowed the steaks in the fridge for tomorrow. Tim had gone to bed early. Although considering he’d held his new stack of comics they had purchased that afternoon in his arms, Gibbs very much doubted his son would be sleeping anytime soon.
Gibbs was a bit … concerned. Just a bit though. Tim had seemed distracted at dinner; even the talkative Tony hadn’t been able to keep Tim present and engaged in conversation. After Tony left, Tim had helped Jackson load the dishwasher and then begged off a movie that Gibbs had suggested.
Switching off the kitchen light, Gibbs walked into the living room. He intended to go down into the basement but stopped upon seeing his father sitting next to the fireplace. His hobby magazine was open on his lap. He wasn’t reading it, though; instead, he was staring thoughtfully into the fire. Wanting to check in with him and make sure everything was okay, Gibbs sat in the chair opposite.
Taking a shot in the dark, Gibbs asked, “Heard you talking to Johnny on the phone. How’s the store doing?”
Jackson looked up, startled. “Oh, it’s doing real nice, no complaints. The customers have handled the transition well. Everything is going well there.”
“But not here?” Gibbs asked wondering if his father was regretting giving up his business, “Are you doing okay?”
Jackson finally seemed to really look at him. “Oh, son, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” When Gibbs raised one eyebrow in disbelief he chuckled lightly before continuing. “I’m not going to try to snow you into believing I don’t miss the store at all. I do, but I had already been planning my retirement before Tim came into our lives, so I was ready to end that chapter of my life. Plus what I have received in return is so much more than what I had.”
Jackson stopped and cleared his throat. “That’s not what I was worrying about. Now I believe everyone has a right to privacy, so I wasn’t trying to snoop…” Jackson started, then he turned to face Gibbs. His face was earnest. “I was putting Tim’s clothes away in his dresser when I knocked over his backpack, the one he showed up at my house with. I went to pick it back up and I noticed it was full of clothes. I put it back and didn’t touch anything else, but it worries me. That he seems ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”
Gibbs sat back; he wasn’t surprised at the information. Tim seemed to be settling in okay, but it had only been a month since Tim had come to live with them. He also understood his father’s worry. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere. It will take a while for him to feel comfortable enough with us to no longer need a safety net, which is what I think his backpack represents. It’s going to take time and patience. We just need to be here for him. Show him he has a family now that he can trust and rely on.”
Gibbs got up and placed a comforting hand on his father’s shoulder. Jackson reached up and squeezed his hand, then nodded as he picked up his magazine and started reading. Continuing on to the basement, Gibbs made a note to check in with his father more often. All of their lives had been drastically changed over the last couple of weeks and they needed to support each other. Maybe over Christmas break, they could spend a weekend in Stillwater; his father had mentioned needing to close up the house on a more permanent basis.
~NCIS~
It was a blustery Monday afternoon as Tim walked down the stairs of the library. The wind was so fierce that it was trying to push him sideways. Looking both ways down the sidewalk, Tim searched for a familiar stock of black hair. Finally standing on tippy-toes, Tim spied his friend sitting on their regular bench about a half a block away.
As he walked towards his friend, Tim felt a spark of fear start up in his chest; he had spent most of Sunday going over what he wanted to say to Jude, but he still felt unprepared. He was almost at Jude’s side before the older teen noticed him, and when he did he said with a smile, “Hey kid.”
Tim smiled, and for a moment almost talked himself into not saying anything, not wanting anything to change the look of happiness on the teen’s face.
Sitting down next to Jude, Tim asked, “How was your weekend?” He was glad to that his friend was looking more rested and that his color was better than it had been on Saturday.
With a tilt of his head, Jude replied, “It was good.”
“Good ... good,” Tim said disjointedly. He shuffled his backpack off his shoulders and placed it at his feet as the silence lengthened between them.
Jude looked at him quizzically. Maybe sensing his unease he said, “How was Thanksgiving? Was it as awkward as you feared?”
Tim relaxed a bit at the question. “Actually it was pretty good. I like my dad’s ... Gibbs’ teammates. They are like family to him and they seem to be pretty decent people. In fact, Tony and Gibbs took me to the comic book store’s sale on Saturday.”
Jude sat up a bit straighter, looking excited. “Oh yeah. Did you buy anything?”
Unzipping and reaching into his backpack, Tim answered, “Actually, Gibbs did let me get a few. I even offered to pay him back, but he said I didn’t have to, so that was awesome.” Pulling out the stack of six comics, Tim handed them over to Jude.
Watching as Jude looked through them, Tim made little comments along the way about which he had read and what he thought of each one. The first four were Batman comics, but when Jude got to the last two and saw they were of Superman, his usual scowl softened into a smile as he oohed and awed over them.
“Wow, I didn’t know this one was out yet ...”
“Jude, I know,” Tim blurted out, unable to hold back any longer.
Jude looked at him oddly before saying, “You know what?” His voice sounded guarded.
“I saw you on Saturday. I know what you do for a living,” Tim said in a rush.
Jude lost all color in his face. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but nothing came out. He looked ready to bolt, so Tim quickly launched into his speech. “Look, I don’t care what you do for a living. My mom did the same thing, so I sorta understand being desperate enough to seek out that type of work.”
Tim saw that Jude was still tense, but he no longer looked like he wanted to run. He was afraid to push too hard in case he pushed his only friend away, but he had to ask something. “Is someone forcing you to do this?”
Jude’s eyebrows raised up at Tim’s question. “What, you mean like a pimp?” At Tim’s shrug, Jude continued, “I have tried to avoid anyone like that. Being on my own means I don’t have to split the money.” He paused and seemed to be considering his words, then he continued, “My mom left my dad and me when I was a baby, and later, when I was around ten, we heard she died in a car accident. My dad worked construction, and so we moved from job to job. Basically, we lived in our car until I was twelve, and then he remarried. My stepmom and I never really got along, but we managed to either avoid each other or make nice when my dad was around.”
Jude took out a cigarette and lit it with hands that shook. “When I was fifteen, my dad was killed at a job site. Within a month, my stepmom and I were at each other’s throats. That’s when I started to runaway and the police would bring me back. I would stick around for a day or two and then I would leave again. On my sixteenth birthday, my stepmom washed her hands of me, and gave me up to foster care.
“I stayed one night at the group home they placed me in and then made the brilliant decision to run away to the big city with my vast savings of three hundred dollars.” Jude gave a hollow laugh and took another drag off his cigarette. He blew the smoke away from Tim before he continued. “I rented the cheapest room I could find and ate as little as possible, but eventually, I had to do something or I was going to end up homeless, so I turned my first trick to pay the rent on my piece of shit hotel room and the one meal I eat a day and that’s what I have been doing ever since.” Finishing in a rush, Jude took another long drag of his cigarette. The comics lay forgotten on his lap.
Tim had listened intently, surprised but glad that Jude was sharing this much about his past. He had been half afraid that Jude would walk away and never want to speak to him again. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I could do?”
“Like what?” Jude challenged.
“I could ask my dad if you could come live with us?” Tim said, warming to the idea now that he said it out loud. They could share a room or Jude could sleep on the couch.
The teen immediately squished the idea with a shake of his head, “No way. Your dad is a cop, right?’
“Yes, so?” Tim said a bit defensively.
“I am a minor. By law, he would have to turn me in. No, thank you. I would rather live this life then live in a group home,” Jude spat out taking another drag of his cigarette. His knee began to bounce up and down rapidly, showing how irritated and nervous he was becoming.
Tim nodded, although unhappy he respected his friend’s decision, but he also needed to do something for him. He didn’t have any money, not really, so he wasn’t sure how he could actually help.
Just then, as though an answer to prayer, Jude’s stomach rumbled and Tim remembered that he had let slip that he was only eating one meal a day. Setting the comics aside, Tim reached into his backpack again and pulled out his lunch. He had gotten caught up reading his comics and hadn’t eaten his sandwich earlier. And although he was hungry he had food waiting for him back at home; Jude did not.
Tim offered Jude his sandwich. The teen squinted at him. Then he took one last drag off his cigarette and threw it on the sidewalk, where he ground it underneath his shoe.
“That’s your lunch. You should eat it.”
“Listen, I could make an extra sandwich on the days that I am going to be coming here to the library and bring it with me, so at the very least three times a week, you could have two meals a day.”
Jude just looked at him. Tim begged, “Please.”
Jude glanced at the sandwich and then his eyes seemed to bore into Tim’s. Finally he said, “Why would you do that for me?”
Tim shrugged. “You’re my friend.”
Jude stared at him a minute, eyebrows drawn together as though confused. Then he shook his head in resignation and took the sandwich, unwrapped it and begun to eat. Tim was so relieved that he started talking a mile a minute, mostly small talk about anything and everything. He knew he was babbling but he was so happy that Jude wasn’t mad about Tim knowing, and that his friend was going to allow him to help, at least a little bit.
As Jude finished his sandwich, he said with a long, suffering sigh, “Hey kid, take a breath. It’s okay.”
Tim abruptly stopped and with a chagrined look on his face, he picked up the comics. Giving Jude first choice of which he wanted to read, Tim started reading his own. They took turns pointing out the interesting scenes as Tim waited for Jackson.
~NCIS~
Making two sandwiches on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays didn’t actually raise any eyebrows or bring about any awkward questions, since Tim was in charge of making his own lunches anyway. Tim still wished Jude would allow him to tell Gibbs. He was pretty sure his father would help, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure Jude wouldn’t end up in foster care so he kept his mouth shut. So the boys would sit on the benches and Jude would eat the food Tim brought and they would talk. Tim learned more about Jude’s past. Jude and his dad, whose name was Jonathan, sounded like they had a close relationship and that Jude was well taken care of when the man had been alive. Tim opened up about Gibbs, Jackson, and his new family, and even told Jude about his writing. It turned out that Jude was a good sounding board when it came to plot details. He always listened intently, and then gave Tim some good feedback.
Tim managed to even talk a bit about his mom and Liam, although he left out a couple of the confrontations he had had with Liam. He knew Jude would not judge him by the names that Liam had called him but Tim just couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Any time he tried, a feeling of shame welled up in him and so he choked them back. Those words continued to bother him. He shouldn’t care what a man like Liam thought of him, but for some reason he did.
The weeks passed by and Christmas break was almost upon them. Tim was determined to convince Jude to come to his house for Christmas because it seemed too sad to allow his friend to spend the holidays alone. He had tried to broach the subject a couple of times but Jude had shut him down each time and he hadn’t wanted to push it. It was on the last Wednesday before Christmas break that Tim tried again. This would be the last time he would be able to talk to Jude for two weeks. Unless he could convince Gibbs or Jackson to drop him off at the comic book store, and Jude just happened to walk by which seemed unlikely.
They were both huddled near the glass doors in the lobby of the library. Tim was trying to keep an eye out for Jackson’s truck, but the relentless downpour outside was making it difficult. The rain was coming down in sheets, and the wind was more of a gale than a breeze. He wanted to make sure he saw the truck right away because he didn’t want his grandfather to get out in this weather.
Glancing over at Jude, Tim couldn’t help but ask, “Are you okay?”
When he had first seen his friend this afternoon, he had been pretty soaked. The older boy had been standing under one of the library’s vents trying to warm up. Tim had given Jude his sandwich and then had gone into tutoring. When he had returned, the teen was by the front doors. He looked drier although still damp. Jude had a frown on his face and his too slender frame seemed to have a permanent shiver to it.
“Sure,” Jude ground out, trying to plaster on his usual smirk only to fail as another tremor wound its way up his spine and caused him to shudder violently.
“Uh, ha,” Tim said disbelievingly as he took off his jacket and offered it to Jude. “Here, take this.”
~NCIS~
Jude started to shake his head, but then another reflexive tremor made him bend his pride and take the proffered jacket. What was it about the kid that had Jude breaking all of his own rules? Like his number one rule of never accepting anything from anyone because then you owed them, and most of the time, what they wanted in return was not worth it. Putting the jacket on, he couldn’t help but pointedly look at the bright yellow flannel lining.
Seeing the look, Tim said with a laugh, “I know it is super ugly, but trust me it will warm you up in no time.”
Tim was right. The jacket was ugly, but it was also the warmest Jude had felt in days. He briefly closed his eyes in bliss before reopening them and seeing a familiar look on his friend’s face. Jude could tell Tim was steeling himself to ask him something, and considering what he had been harping on for the last few days, Jude knew what he was going to ask. The kid’s heart was in the right place, but he needed to be realistic. There was no way any cop would invite a disreputable person like him into his home. Plus Jude wouldn’t feel comfortable being surrounded by people who would arrest him on any other day. So he waited Tim out and braced himself to disappoint his young friend.
“So, um, I was thinking ...” Tim started.
“No.”
“Jude, come on. You can’t be alone for Christmas,” Tim pleaded.
Jude turned towards Tim. “Look, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I was alone last year and it didn’t kill me.”
“But ...”
“What are you going to tell your dad about me?” Jude said impatiently.
“I’ll tell him I have a friend who ... who ...” Tim faltered.
“No matter what lie you concocted, he would want to speak with my parents to clear it with them,” Jude interjected to put an end to Tim’s stammering. “And then what would you say?”
Tim stared down at his feet and shook his head in denial.
“Hey, kid,” Jude started to say, but when Tim wouldn’t look at him, he reached over and tugged on his sleeve until he did. “I will be alright. In two weeks, I will meet you back here on the steps of this library. Okay?”
Tim nodded, but he didn’t look happy. A flash of dull yellow had them squinting through the window, past the deluge of water.
Tim said in a resigned voice, “My Grandpa’s here.”
Jude started to remove his jacket, but Tim held up his hands and said in a rush, “No, no, keep it.”
Looking at his friend and gesturing at the mess outside the window, Jude said in disbelief, “You can’t be serious?”
Tim quickly slung his backpack onto his back, “Look I will get mildly wet in the thirty seconds it takes me to get to the car. You still have to walk back to your hotel. Keep my jacket.”
“Kid ...” Jude started saying, following Tim to the door.
“I will be alright,” Tim interrupted. “Plus its only two week’s right?” Tim said with a wide smile.
Jude couldn’t help but laugh at his own words being used against him. “Okay you got me there.”
Tim sobered up. With one hand on the door, he said, “Be careful. I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Giving him a gentle shove out the door, Jude said, “Two weeks. Now get out of here before your grandfather gets out of the car.”
With one last wave, Tim rushed down the stairs and practically dove into the waiting truck.
Chapter Four