“You’re here about Derek,” I stated, more than asked. Dad nodded. “He’s on the verge of losing his job.
There’s been talk… some issues with his behavior. He needs help, and I thought maybe you could reach out to him, offer some guidance.”
I leaned back in my chair, sipping the coffee and letting its warmth seep into me. “And this has what to do with me?”
“The family needs to stick together,” he said, his voice firm but with an undercurrent of desperation.
“No matter what.”
I chuckled, a bitter sound. “Funny. Yesterday, it seemed like Derek got to decide what family means.
And he made it very clear where Lucas and I stand.”
“That was a mistake,” Dad admitted, a rare concession. “He was wrong. We were wrong.”
I looked at him, seeing not the stern patriarch of my childhood, but an old man grappling with the consequences of his own lessons on manhood.
“Derek needs to learn that actions have consequences,” I said softly. “And maybe this is his chance. Maybe losing this job will be his wake-up call.”
Dad stared into his coffee cup, his expression a mix of regret and reflection.
“You really want to teach him a lesson, don’t you?”
I thought of Lucas, of the courage it took for a six-year-old to face such senseless cruelty. “No,” I replied. “I want him to understand what it means to be family.
And maybe this is the only way he’ll learn.”
As Dad left, I knew we were on the brink of a change—not just for Derek, but for our family as a whole. It was time to redefine what strength and love meant to us, even if it took a painful journey to get there.
