message.
“Matt, I understand you have issues, but this can’t go on. We all have our problems, but I need employees I can count on. You’re a good mechanic, but you’re completely unreliable. I hate to have to do this, but if you don’t show up tomorrow, don’t bother coming back at all.”
And that was that. Matt didn’t show up the next day, and he kissed his job goodbye.
He didn’t tell Becky for another week. He would leave the house at his usual time and come back at his usual time. In-between, he just wandered about, feeling lost and foolish. He didn’t want to prove to his sister once again just how big of a screw-up he was, so he kept his mouth shut. It was only a matter of time before she either figured it out herself or found out on her own anyway.
Indeed, a week later, he was pretending to read a book in the living room when Joe and Becky both walked into the room. They looked tense and worried—well, Becky, at least. Joe mostly looked angry, and Matt figured he couldn’t really blame him. He put the book down and readied himself for an intervention that would solve nothing.
“Matt, we need to talk,” his sister said, her voice oozing tension.
“What is it?” He asked, as carefully as he could.
“Cut the crap,” Joe snapped. “You know exactly what this is about.”
“Joe,” Becky said sternly, turning briefly to her husband. “Please.”
Joe bit his lip.
Sitting on the armchair, Matt watched warily as they both took a seat on the couch.
“We ran into Mrs. Riggs at the grocery store today,” Becky began carefully. “She told us her husband is very upset about what happened. We asked her what it was that happened exactly.” She stared at him with dark eyes darkened even further by worry and disappointment. “Why did you do that, Matt? It was a good job.”
“It wasn’t for me.”
“Yes, it was,” Becky insisted. “Mr. Riggs always said you were an excellent mechanic. Perhaps, if you would only go to the garage and apologize, he would give you your job back.”
“I don’t want my job back.” That much was true. Matt wasn’t sure what it was that he wanted anymore, but he knew that it wasn’t to spend his days at a garage.
Becky sighed. “And why not?”
Matt hesitated. Why not? He couldn’t say. Or rather, he could, but he knew for a fact his sister wouldn’t like to hear it. “I don’t feel like myself there, trying to fit in to an ordinary life.”
Becky looked at him like she had been expecting that answer, but still hoping for something different. “Matt, you’re never going to feel like yourself again if you don’t try a little harder. I told you before, you are normal. You’ve just forgotten how to live a normal life. But you’re not going to remember how to pedal if you refuse to climb back in the saddle.”
Matt smiled fondly. Trust his sister to come up with some clever metaphor even during the darkest times. “I’m not going to find that normality again by working at Mr. Riggs’ garage.”
“How, then?” It was Joe who spoke now. He was glaring daggers into Matt, his whole frame taut as he sat beside his wife and listened to the exchange. “How are you going to do it? Are you even going to? Do you even want to?”
“Joe!” Becky snapped.
“No, Becky, this has to stop,” Joe said. “This is the third job he can’t hold on to in almost a year. How long are we going to allow him to keep this up? He’s living in our house—”
“And contributing,” Matt cut him off, a hint of pride pushing through the mud of his dumbed down emotions. “I’m not mooching off of you, Joe. My army pension is more than enough for me to chip in.”
“I’m not saying you’re taking advantage of us,” Joe clarified, calming down a little. “But I haven’t had any privacy with my wife in almost a whole year, and frankly, I’m getting a little tired of
“Matt, I understand you have issues, but this can’t go on. We all have our problems, but I need employees I can count on. You’re a good mechanic, but you’re completely unreliable. I hate to have to do this, but if you don’t show up tomorrow, don’t bother coming back at all.”
And that was that. Matt didn’t show up the next day, and he kissed his job goodbye.
He didn’t tell Becky for another week. He would leave the house at his usual time and come back at his usual time. In-between, he just wandered about, feeling lost and foolish. He didn’t want to prove to his sister once again just how big of a screw-up he was, so he kept his mouth shut. It was only a matter of time before she either figured it out herself or found out on her own anyway.
Indeed, a week later, he was pretending to read a book in the living room when Joe and Becky both walked into the room. They looked tense and worried—well, Becky, at least. Joe mostly looked angry, and Matt figured he couldn’t really blame him. He put the book down and readied himself for an intervention that would solve nothing.
“Matt, we need to talk,” his sister said, her voice oozing tension.
“What is it?” He asked, as carefully as he could.
“Cut the crap,” Joe snapped. “You know exactly what this is about.”
“Joe,” Becky said sternly, turning briefly to her husband. “Please.”
Joe bit his lip.
Sitting on the armchair, Matt watched warily as they both took a seat on the couch.
“We ran into Mrs. Riggs at the grocery store today,” Becky began carefully. “She told us her husband is very upset about what happened. We asked her what it was that happened exactly.” She stared at him with dark eyes darkened even further by worry and disappointment. “Why did you do that, Matt? It was a good job.”
“It wasn’t for me.”
“Yes, it was,” Becky insisted. “Mr. Riggs always said you were an excellent mechanic. Perhaps, if you would only go to the garage and apologize, he would give you your job back.”
“I don’t want my job back.” That much was true. Matt wasn’t sure what it was that he wanted anymore, but he knew that it wasn’t to spend his days at a garage.
Becky sighed. “And why not?”
Matt hesitated. Why not? He couldn’t say. Or rather, he could, but he knew for a fact his sister wouldn’t like to hear it. “I don’t feel like myself there, trying to fit in to an ordinary life.”
Becky looked at him like she had been expecting that answer, but still hoping for something different. “Matt, you’re never going to feel like yourself again if you don’t try a little harder. I told you before, you are normal. You’ve just forgotten how to live a normal life. But you’re not going to remember how to pedal if you refuse to climb back in the saddle.”
Matt smiled fondly. Trust his sister to come up with some clever metaphor even during the darkest times. “I’m not going to find that normality again by working at Mr. Riggs’ garage.”
“How, then?” It was Joe who spoke now. He was glaring daggers into Matt, his whole frame taut as he sat beside his wife and listened to the exchange. “How are you going to do it? Are you even going to? Do you even want to?”
“Joe!” Becky snapped.
“No, Becky, this has to stop,” Joe said. “This is the third job he can’t hold on to in almost a year. How long are we going to allow him to keep this up? He’s living in our house—”
“And contributing,” Matt cut him off, a hint of pride pushing through the mud of his dumbed down emotions. “I’m not mooching off of you, Joe. My army pension is more than enough for me to chip in.”
“I’m not saying you’re taking advantage of us,” Joe clarified, calming down a little. “But I haven’t had any privacy with my wife in almost a whole year, and frankly, I’m getting a little tired of
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