Sy stared into a face that was so much like his own. He felt tears sting his eyes before he let the anger take over. He wasn’t going to allow her to see him upset. He looked to his mother’s left where a young girl stood. “Jenny?” The girl smiled and nodded and took a tentative step forward, her arms twitching toward him as if in want of embrace. He reached out a hand in invitation and she took it. Stepping into his arms she hugged him tightly and he hugged her with equal force. “I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too.” When she stepped back he looked back to the woman who had raised him. Her face had aged, her hair graying. She looked nearly the same, but there was something different. Was that sorrow in her eyes? Guilt? Sy hardened himself.

“How have you been, son?” She said this like she knew not what else to say. She looked like she regretted the question immediately. 

“How have I been? Do you mean since Dad forced me to go to that horrible place, or since you left me at that hospital?” 

She took a breath as if this cut deeply. Sy hoped it had. Instead of answering she looked down at the boy standing next to his father. “Is this…?”

Sy looked down at the child who was looking upon his grandmother and aunt for the first time. “Your grandson? Yes.”

She smiled sadly as she looked at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sammy.” His voice was soft, though loud enough to be heard over the music playing from large speakers placed strategically around the grounds. 

“Hi, Sammy.” The boy waved but didn’t further speak, taking everything in as it unfolded. It was then she looked behind Sy and locked eyes with the boy who she used to change his diapers when she babysat. “Hello, Sammy.” Sam didn’t answer, his attention staying on Sy, trying to gauge his reactions. She looked back to Sy, her eyes full of many things. “I’m sorry, Sy. You don’t know what happened back then. I know you likely will never believe me or want to hear me out, but I am sorry. I never wanted to allow your father to send you away.”

“Yes, well…you did. And he did. And then you left me there. You left me even as I screamed for you to come back. You. Left. Me. Why should I give you a chance to explain yourself? What difference would it make?” Sy looked to his sister who had grown from a chubby toddler to a young girl of fourteen. “Jenny…you’re welcome in my life if you want to be in it. I would love to get to know my little sister.” 

She took out her phone immediately, knowing that she wouldn’t have much more time right now before he walked away. “What’s your phone number? I can text you.”

 Jenny gave over the device when he reached for it gladly, seeming to know that he was unable to properly speak for the moment, and watched him type in his number, and took it when he handed back her phone. “Call or text me any time.” He looked to his mother, “I need time, okay.”

She nodded. “Okay. Sy,” she called as he turned to go. He closed his eyes a moment before he turned back and met her eyes. “You father…he died a year after you were in the hospital. I’m not telling you because you care about him…I just…if you decide to call…he won’t be there. I didn’t want it to be a deterrent. I always kept the house number the same in case…in case you ever decided to call.” He began to turn away and he paused only slightly as she said, “I’m sorry, son.”

Sy turned toward Sam, his face an expression of an old pain. “I need to go home now, Sammy.”

Sam nodded. “Of course.” He reached for Sammy’s hand and the boy took it. 

As they walked away Sammy said, “Daddy–” 

But Sy cut him off with a sharp edge to his voice. “Sammy, not now,” Sy said, barely suppressing his emotions. 

“But, Daddy,” the boy tried again. 

Sy turned to his son, anger prominent on his face and fire in his eyes, his finger extended and pointed at his son. “I said not now. Now just shut your damn mouth.” They watched Sy walk off toward the car and instantly Sammy started to cry, his heart broken at the tone in his father’s voice. He’d never spoken to him that harshly before.

Sam’s mouth dropped open at this uncharacteristic display toward his only son. Picking up the crying boy, Sam hurried to catch up. As he walked he soothed the boy, telling him it wasn’t his fault, his anger rising slightly in defense of the hurting child in his arms. When Sam got to the car, Sy was leaning against the front passenger side door, his head resting against his folded arms. Sam could not see his face. He made quick time of buckling Sammy into his car seat, the boy’s tears still silently falling. “It’s not you, Sammy boy, okay. Your Daddy isn’t mad at you.” The boy nodded but didn’t otherwise respond. 

Sam stood back up and shut the door before turning to face the man before him, closing the distance until they were almost touching. “I understand that you’re upset, but you shouldn’t take it out on your son.” Sam contemplated for only a moment if he should tell him what Sammy had whispered in his ear as they walked to the car before he said, “He wanted to tell you that he loved you.”

Without another word Sam turned and walked to the driver’s side and got in behind the wheel. Sy stood there a moment longer, feeling the sting of shame and regret as he remembered the look on his son’s face as he snapped at him. He wiped his eyes before he got in the car, glad for the cover of darkness so that Sammy wouldn’t see his face. 

The shock of seeing his mother and sister and everything it brought back to him was beginning to settle, and in its wake left every emotion he thought he’d buried long ago associated with his family. He had resigned himself long ago that that part of his life was gone. He tried not to think about the feeling of utter abandonment when she left him that day. Whatever her reason, it didn’t stop the damage it had done. It didn’t stop the destruction from watching her walk away. From knowing that she could hear him screaming Mommy! Mommy, come back and the heartbreak when she never did.

He didn’t say a word the whole drive home. He didn’t say a word as he exited the car, and he said nothing as he hurried past a confused Shelly in his rush to the bedroom.

“What happened?” Shelly asked as Sam came through the door carrying a still very clearly upset Sammy. 

“You’ll never believe who we just kinda…bumped into tonight,” Sam said to her with as much sarcasm as he could muster. 

Shelly frowned knowing that the answer to that question was not going to be a happy reunion given the state of things. “I can only think of two people who might put that look on his face. His parents.” She looked toward the door Sy vanished behind, worry contorting her features.

“Well, you’re half right. His mother. And his sister. It’s seeing his mother that has him so upset, though.”

“Daddy hates me, Shelly,” the boy sobbed as he reached for her.

Shelly frowned as she took him. “No, baby. He could never hate you.” He clung to her, clearly upset as he cried. He didn’t argue with her, he simply sobbed tears over a sadness that he really didn’t understand. 

“Sammy boy,” Sam said, placing a hand on the boy’s slender back. “Your daddy loves you. He didn’t mean to snap at you, little man. Sammy, sometimes daddies make mistakes. You know why?” When Sammy shook his head, Sam continued, “Because daddies are human and they make mistakes. He wasn’t really yelling at you. I know it seemed like it, but he wasn’t. He’s very upset and didn’t mean it. But he still loves you more than anything.” He kissed the top of Sammy’s head and looked at Shelly. “Will you get him showered and ready for bed? Sy…” He glanced down the hall and back at her, his worry for Sy ever mounting the longer he was away from him.

Shelly shooed him with a jut of her chin in the direction of the bedroom. “Of course. Go.” 

Sy couldn’t get out of the car fast enough and into the house. Unlocking the door, he burst through it, not having even the presence of mind to shut the door behind him so the nighttime bugs weren’t drawn inside. He ran into Shelly in his hurry, stopping long enough to make sure she had her balance before he pushed his way through the bedroom door, shutting it behind him with a sharp slam. 

He leaned heavily against the door, feeling his chest being ripped open as the assault of memories and devastating emotions swept over him, drowning him within the turmoil.

He never expected to run into her. Not now. Not ever. And now that he had he was completely taken aback. He was completely shattered. Her abandonment of her only son hurt him more than the vile betrayal of his father ever had. He stumbled to the edge of the bed and collapsed onto it. Pulling a pillow to his chest he squeezed it, trying not to scream as he screwed his eyes shut tightly, as if that could stop the water leaking down his face. 

He tried not to think about his mother or what she had done. He had never had any belief until that moment when she walked away in the hospital that she had anything to do with sending him away. But in the moment that she walked from that room without so much as turning back, he knew that she had somehow allowed it to happen. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there like that before Sam came into the room. At some point he wasn’t sure when the pillow had tumbled from his lap to the floor at his feet, but he didn’t see it. He didn’t see the room around him. He didn’t notice Sam come into the room, or kneel in front of him.

“Sy?” Sam placed his hand atop Sy’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. When he didn’t respond, Sam closed his eyes and took a calming breath. Shelly was right. These moments didn’t happen often, but when they did they were unnerving. “Sy. Come on, look at me.” Sam waited, expecting Sy’s eyes to flick over to his face, but nothing happened. Sam shook his head sadly, his own heart breaking for the man in front of him. Needing to do something, Sam untied Sy’s shoes and pulled them off his feet before setting them off to the side where neither one would trip over them. 

Next he stood trying to decide on how he was going to go through with getting Sy’s jeans off. Leaning over and setting his hand on Sy’s shoulder he spoke in soft tones to him. “Sy. Come on, let’s get these jeans off of you. You’re not going to want to sleep in those. The last time you fell asleep in your jeans, you didn’t let me hear the end of it.” Sam pushed Sy by the side of his shoulder, a signal to lay down. He met Sam’s stare briefly as he laid his head upon the pillow that had been on the floor. He guessed that Sam placed it back on the bed. 

In a blind haze of the past, Sy didn’t notice nor try to stop Sam as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off his body. He watched without really seeing as Sam made his way around the bedroom, picking up his clothes and taking off his own before throwing them all into the hamper in the corner. Sam crawled up next to the younger man and covered them with an extra blanket, Sam not having the energy to pull the blanket and sheet out from under Sy right then.

Not knowing what else he could do while Sy was in this state, Sam pulled him against his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Sy’s arm came across Sam’s toned chest and his head rested comfortably in the crook of his shoulder, but otherwise, he didn’t move. 

“I’m right here, Sy. I’ll be here when you come back to me. Right here. I’m not going anywhere.” They laid there like that for hours. Sam watched over the only one he’s ever really loved while Sy was lost in his past. Eventually the emotion of the night turned into exhaustion and soon they were both asleep.