ChromedOutCortex

LOL! You beat me to it!!! 😂

The next few weeks and months went by quickly. We consolidated all the accounts, closed anything we didn’t need, and Evan stayed in regular contact with Mr. Keating. Whatever they talked about must have gone well, because one afternoon Evan came back from a meeting with this stunned look on his face. “They… uh… offered me a position,” he’d said. “Once I graduate and get called to the bar. Articling, then maybe associate.” He was thrilled, but I could see the conflict in his eyes.

I am just as bad. 😞 I totally get very anxious when I'm shown something that is limited time only, or a special price. A few weeks ago, Costco had these fans you wear around your neck -- really decent price at $19.99 for two. All I really needed was one for me and my partner, and one for my ex and our kids (though I know, they'll probably never use them). So total - three packages (two per package). I ended up buying five. Then regretting the purchase... I should have bought another one or two because it was such a good price. Thankfully my partner returned all of them... I was too embarrassed to go back to Costco and return them myself.

Evan was able to find a lawyer who specialized in financial crimes and estate fraud, a calm, middle-aged man named Robert Keating. His office was in a small converted heritage house near City Hall — shelves lined with binders, certificates crowding the walls, the faint smell of coffee and paper everywhere. Evan took the lead as we sat down in one of the offices. Mom kept her purse clutched to her chest, the same folder from the police station resting on her lap. Mr. Keating smiled kindly

A few weeks after the funeral, things had quieted down. Mom was settling into a routine again, cooking small meals, going for walks, talking with Elizabeth every few days. Evan and I had been helping her sort through papers, bills, and boxes that Dad had stored in the den. It was meant to be a simple clean-up, something to keep her distracted. But what we found changed everything. “J… you might want to see this,” Evan said, pulling a folder from one of the drawers. It was a man

For a second, I expected her to nod politely, maybe thank him and look away. But she didn’t. Instead, she stood up and took his hands in hers. Then, without hesitation, she pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for coming,” she said quietly. “I’m glad James has someone with him. You being here means a lot.” Evan looked surprised but returned the hug, steady and respectful. “He’s my world, ma’am. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She nodded, tears welling again. “You’re very kind.”

The next morning, sunlight spilled through the blinds in long golden strips. I could feel the weight of Evan’s arm draped across my chest, his steady breathing warm against my shoulder. For a moment, I let myself stay still, just breathing, pretending the world outside didn’t exist. Eventually, I eased out of bed and started getting ready. Evan stirred, stretching. “Are you heading to the hospital?” he asked sleepily. “Yeah. I should be there by nine.” “I’ll come with you

Aaaah... doing whatever he can to win them over. Does it work???

I stepped out into the hallway, grateful for the excuse to breathe. I walked over to the nurses’ station, where the same nurse from yesterday was typing something into a chart. “Hi,” I said quietly. “I’m James, Mr. Carter’s son. Just wanted to check in and see what’s planned for today.” She looked up and smiled politely, her tone calm but practiced, the kind nurses use when they’ve seen every kind of family dynamic imaginable. “Morning, James. Not much scheduled today. He’s resti

Def - a push into reality is absolutely needed.

I'm not sure what to think... But yes, James needs to stand-up for himself. Evan wouldn't put up with it, and it's probably driving him absolutely nuts that James will. It is painful to see the one you love being hurt so often, but still putting up with it.

Honestly - I agree. There comes a point in time, that you have to stand up for yourself. It doesn't have to be done in a disrespectful manner - but firmly, and with authority. Usually that will "shock" others into realizing that you've been walked over, and won't deal with it any longer.

This is it, isn't it? He was family until he came out, then he's not - but up until that time he was the dutiful son and that has stuck with him. We all want to be loved, and even more by our parents since that should be unconditional from them. Unfortunately, sometimes that love never comes even though we spend a lifetime trying. 😞

Now, I have to look him up. 😁

The next morning, Evan must have woken up early. I could hear the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen, followed by the soft crackle of something cooking. The smell of eggs or maybe pancakes drifted down the hall. I turned over, glanced at the clock: 6:02 a.m. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to face Mom or Sam or whatever fresh hell the day had waiting. Evan was right about standing up for myself. But every time I walked into that house, it was like all the strength