The Funeral: Chapter 4

[shelbecat]

Title: The Funeral: Chapter 4
Authors: shelbecat and rachel_wilder
Rating: T (aka PG-13)
Summary: Continuing from Reunion and The Wedding, we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach The Funeral.


The Funeral
Chapter 4

September, 2020

Tyra placed the book she was reading on her nightstand and rolled towards Tim as he climbed into bed.

"Hey you," she said softly, reaching out to stroke his bare back.

Tim smiled and rolled towards her, leaning in to plant a deep kiss on her mouth.

She smiled beneath the kiss, shifting to better position herself against his body. She loved this time of night. When Jake was asleep but it was still early enough to spend a little quality time with her husband before the need for sleep won out. And if that quality time was spent in the bedroom? Well she loved it all the more.

Tim's hand ran up her side, pulling her thin tank top along with it. She squirmed away from his ticklish touch and kissed him more fervently. He responded, pushing her back against the mattress and leaning across her body.

"Mmm," she sighed as he moved down to kiss her neck. "Let's make a baby."

Tim's mouth stopped still on her neck, his body frozen. Tyra stared at the ceiling. Had she just said that out loud?

With a flip of his hair, Tim's head popped up and stared at her. "Are you serious?"

She swallowed thickly. "Yeah, I think I am."

His eyes were dark, like she'd dropped some sort of bombshell. They had talked about this before. Over a year ago. Why was it coming as such a surprise to him now?

Moving away, Tim flopped down against his pillow. Tyra remained still for a moment and then turned towards him, her hand running across his ribs.

"You don't want to?" she asked.

"That's not it."

"Then..."

Tim closed his eyes. Seconds stretched into minutes and Tyra wondered if he hadn't fallen asleep. Then his mouth moved.

"Billy wants to go see Walt."

"What?" Tyra asked, shocked.

"He talked to Anne again. He called her," Tim added quickly. "He just...he doesn't understand. He doesn't remember."

Tyra watched her husband's face carefully. He had torment written all over it. She knew how he felt about his father. How much the pain of Walt's abandonment still stung after all these years. And now it was affecting their decision to have a child. A decision Tim had seemed fine with until he'd met Anne a few months back. Learning about Walt's illness had brought all his father-issues right to the surface again.

"So...do you want me to take him down there?" Tyra asked.

Tim's eyes flicked open and stared up at her. "No," he said sharply.

"Well I would," Tyra pressed. "If you don't want to go."

"No, it's not that, it's..." Tim sighed. "I don't want Walt to win. He shouldn’t get to see us just because he's sick."

"Tim," Tyra said softly, lying down so her head rested on his bare shoulder. Her hand stretched across his chest, trying to give some comfort through her touch. "Maybe we could all drive down there and see how you feel then."

"I don't want to see him."

"I know, but if Billy does..." Tyra held her breath, hopeful that Tim would see that visiting Walt might give him some much needed closure.

Tim was quiet for a long time, then finally his hand moved up to caress Tyra's shoulder. "I don't want Jake to meet him."

Tyra nodded and pressed her lips to Tim's chest. Whatever it took to get him through this.

Landry hopped up on the counter in Matt's kitchen and took a drink from the bottle of beer Matt had set near him. "So, tell me, Matty...what's going on in the life of my best friend? You know, you don't call anymore."

Matt looked over at Landry and shook his head, chuckling. "I don't call-you're the one who just blows into town and shows up at my door. You're lucky I was home."

Landry looked around the kitchen, the quiet of the house echoing. "Speaking of which, where's your family?"

Matt shrugged. "Julie's got the boys this weekend. I'm on my own."

Landry took another sip of his beer. It didn't feel like Matt's house without EJ and Andrew screaming and running around. Without Julie here in the kitchen nursing a beer while Matt and Landry drank like they were still in high school. It felt wrong, empty.

"What are you doing, man? I know you, and Julie Taylor is the love of your life." Landry shook his head. It wasn't right. They should be together. Matt and Julie belonged together. "What are you doing?"

"Paying a therapist to tell me I love my wife," Matt replied.

"Come on, Matt. You have loved that girl since you were 16. You don't need a therapist to tell you that."

"I love her, of course I do, it's just..."

"Just what?" Landry asked.

"I don't know. Some of the things she did," Matt stammered. He tucked his right hand down in the front pocket of his jeans.

Landry's heart ached for Matt, and for Julie. "I know she left you. But she was sick. Tell me you're not holding that against her," he responded, his voice serious.

"It's not that, Landry. Julie had an affair."

No. No way. "I don't believe it," Landry replied, a look of shock crossing his face.

"Believe it. A big one, according to her. 'Paul's such an intellect. He made me see that I wasn't leaving you and the boys, I was leaving myself.' Load of crap," Matt spat out.

Well that certainly put a spin on things. "So what are you doing about it?" Landry asked.

Matt shrugged and reached for the unopened beer on the counter. He twisted off the cap and raised it to his lips. "Paying a therapist to tell me I love my wife."

Landry sighed. This was worse than he'd thought. Matt and Julie were having a rough time, sure, but this was bordering on disaster. He didn't want them to get a divorce. They shouldn't get a divorce.

Slipping off the counter, Landry laid his beer down firmly. "Come on, let's get out of here and get fantastically drunk until you forget all about Julie and your marital troubles. And I'll craft a fabulous plan to get you two back together. You know I'm good with plans."

Matt smiled, but shook his head. "Nah, I can't. I got...I'm going out."

"Where do you have to go? Julie's got the boys, you're a free man!"

"I'm meeting someone, a friend."

Matt's cheeks reddened, just slightly, but Landry caught the sign. "Oh, oh no. You are not serious."

"What?" Matt said innocently.

"You've got a date. It's written all over your face." Landry pointed at him accusingly. "That's a date face."

"Landry," Matt said dryly, but his cheeks were turning a bright pink now.

"Man!" Landry cried. "What the hell are you doing? You want to get her back or what?"

"I don't know!" Matt said, matching Landry's tone. "She slept around on me, what the hell do you want me to do? Just roll over?"

Landry shook his head, his heart aching for his friend. It wasn't about revenge; you didn't feel better about your wife's affair by sleeping around with someone else. Matt was lonely, and hurt, and he needed comfort from someone. Anyone.

"Look, I know I'm probably not as cute as this gal, but would you settle for a night out with me?"

Matt smiled, his head ducking away.

"Don't do this, Matty," Landry pleaded. "If it doesn’t work out with Julie, fine. But give it your all first. Don't do what she did just to get back at her. You'll never make it work that way."

Landry held his breath. He knew he was treading a dangerous path, but he believed in Matt and Julie. They'd found happiness before Landry was even sure it existed. And now that he had a good man himself, he knew that what Matt and Julie had known for years was as good as it got. They just had to get past the rough patch.

"I shouldn't cancel now; it's late."

Matt had an excuse, but it was weak. Landry took that as a sign and put his arm around Matt's shoulders. "She's a fan of Hometown Hero, isn't she? Everyone in Dillon is, right?"

Laughing, Matt shook his head. "You aren't that popular, Garth."

But his smile reached up to his eyes now, and Landry knew they were in the clear.

"Excellent!" Landry took out his cell phone. "Give me her number. I'll even throw in an autograph."

Matt fished his own cell phone out of his pocket and Landry beamed. It wasn't much, maybe only a day's delay for a date that was destined to happen eventually. But if he had his way, the only woman Matt would be dating would be his wife. He just had to work on Julie too-get them both fighting for the same thing.

Tim put his truck in park and rested his forehead on the steering wheel.

"What wrong with Dad?" Jake asked from the backseat.

"Headache, honey," Tyra replied.

Tim felt her warm hand caress his neck but it did little to ease his nerves. They were parked outside the Corpus Christi Cancer Center. Only a few feet separated him from his father now. And Tim still wasn't sure he was ready to walk in there.

"Anne said he's in..." Billy fished around in his pocket for something. "E-216. What floor is that on?"

"Second, Billy. East wing probably," Tyra replied.

"Can we take the elevator? Can we, Tim?"

Tim peeled his head off the wheel and looked over at Tyra. She shot him a small smile and he nodded. He was as ready as he was ever going to be.

"Sure, Billy. We can ride the elevator all day if you want to." Tim would give anything to delay them having to see Walt. But they'd come all this way with a purpose-get in there and see Walt and have this over and done with.

Tim told himself that he was really only here for Billy. Billy was curious about the man that had been their dad. And Tim still didn't think Billy really understood that Walt was dying. This was likely the last chance that they would have to see their father, and Tim had finally realized that he couldn't take that away from Billy. No matter what animosity he held toward Walt, it wasn't fair to push that off on Billy...or Jake, who was never going to know his grandfather.

Tim opened the door and stepped out into the hot afternoon sun. Jake and Billy led the way into the hospital, arguing over who was going to push the buttons first in the elevator. Beside him, Tyra slipped her small hand into his. Tim gripped it tightly and followed his brother and son.

The smell of the hospital hit him as soon as they walked through the doors. It wasn't something he could put his finger on, just a general smell of antiseptic and sickness. He'd always hated hospitals, and just stepping in made it flash over him-Jason, Billy, his own recovery. This visit couldn't end quickly enough for him.

They found Walt's room easily. Tim turned to ask Tyra to wait outside but she anticipated his words.

"We'll wait down the hall," Tyra said, pointing in the direction of a waiting room they had passed. She kissed Tim quickly on the cheek and walked away with Jake.

Tim took a deep breath, while Billy, seemingly oblivious to the tension Tim was feeling, pushed open the door to Walt's room. It was a private room, just a bed with a lone figure lying in it. As they neared the foot of the bed, Tim hesitated before looking down at his father. It was him, that much was obvious, but the man lying in the hospital bed was a shell of the man Walt Riggins had once been. His eyes and cheeks were sunken into his face, and what remained of his once muscular body almost disappeared beneath the thin blanket.

As Tim watched, Walt's eyes blinked open. Tim watched him cautiously, but there was nothing revealed on his face. Tim could have sworn Walt didn't recognize them at all.

"Is that him?" Billy said.

"Yeah, Billy."

At the sound of Billy's name, something shifted in Walt's expression. Shakily, his hand reached up and slid the oxygen mask from his face. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Tim?"

Tim didn't nod or move or gesture in any way, but his father seemed to know it was him suddenly. He smiled, the expression shockingly so familiar that Tim felt like he was 12 again. That was the last happy memory he had of being in a room with this man, and even then, the moments were few and far between. And intermixed with plenty of bad days.

"He looks old," Billy commented, more to Tim than Walt.

Walt coughed, a great hacking sound that shook his whole body. When he regained his breath, he inhaled shakily and looked at his sons. "I am old, Billy. It's been a lotta years since I seen you boys."

"Not like you didn't know where we were," Tim said.

"True," Walt said slowly. "Tim..."

Tim crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Don't bother, Walt. Billy wanted to see you and since I'm the one responsible for him now, I brought him here. But it was for him, not for you."

"Fair," Walt replied.

"You look sick," Billy commented as he crossed over next to his father's bed. "I like Anne. She's nice. She came to visit me."

Walt nodded slightly. "Yeah, I've been lucky, Billy."

The door pushed open and a girl about Jake's age came rushing inside.

"Jade, wait," Anne said as she followed her in the room. "Oh," she said as she caught sight of Tim and Billy. "Uh, sorry-we didn't mean to interrupt."

"I'm Billy," Billy said as he held his hand out to the young girl.

Tim watched as the little girl shyly tucked her hand in Billy's. Kids seemed to really take to his brother now-there was a gentleness to him.

"I'm Jade," she said quietly. She pointed to Walt. "That's my dad. He's sick."

Billy nodded. "Yeah. He's my dad too. I'm sorry he's sick."

Tim looked over at his dad, then to Anne. A kid. Of course. It all made sense now. No wonder Walt had taken off and never looked back. Not only was Walt's old family all broken and messed up, but he had found a brand new shiny model to replace them.

"Perfect," Tim muttered. "Uh, I'm going to wait for you out there, Billy," he said, pointing to the door.

"Hey, Jake is here. He might want to play with Jade," Billy offered.

"Jake?" Walt asked.

Tim cursed silently. He closed his eyes as he turned back to Walt. "Jake's my son," Tim replied. "Same age as your daughter I guess." His words came out clipped and a bit bitter.

"Tim," Anne said as she reached out to touch him on the arm. "Can we let it go?"

"Yeah, I don't think so," Tim said as he reached for the door. "Come find me when you're ready to go, Billy." He pulled the door open and walked into the hall.

Outside, he collapsed against the wall, using it to support all his weight. Walt had a daughter. That little girl, no older than Jake for sure, was Tim's sister. It was too much to process all at once.

Tyra appeared at his side, placing her hand on his arm. "How'd it go?" she asked.

"Fine," Tim said, still reeling from the shock. "Where's Jake?"

"He's playing video games in the waiting room," Tyra explained. "Should I get him?"

Tim shook his head. "No, we're done in there."

Tyra slid her hand into Tim's. "I don't want to make this any harder for you than it already is, but do you think Jake should meet his grandfather? He's the only one he'll ever have, Tim."

"Well, he's got an aunt in there," Tim spat out. "We should make those introductions."

Tyra stared up at him. "What?"

"He had another kid." Tim shook his head in disbelief. "She's got to be around Jake's age, maybe a year or two younger. You realize what that means? While Billy and I were trying to figure out how we were going to live, while I was wondering if Billy was going to live at all, Walt was down here living it up with his new family. I can't believe I..." Tim turned suddenly and smashed his hand into the wall.

"Hey..." Tyra said as she reached up for his arm.

"Tim?"

They turned as Anne exited Walt's room.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Jade earlier, but Walt didn't even want me bothering you at all. And I just...I just wasn't sure what to do."

"Walt has that affect on people," Tim replied.

"Hi, I'm Tyra, Tim's wife," Tyra said as she held her hand out.

Anne reached out and took Tyra's hand. "Anne Riggins. It's good to meet you."

"I'm sorry about your husband. I only met Walt once, when Tim was in middle school, but I can't imagine how hard it is to lose someone you love this way."

Tim watched Tyra, so soothing and gentle even with this woman who had brought so much turmoil into their lives. He wished he could be like her. He wished he had it in him to forgive Walt.

"Thank you," Anne replied softly. "Tim, your dad would really like a chance to talk to you."

Tim stood there for a moment, then shook his head. "No, there was a time for that and it's too late. Be sure and tell him that for me." He couldn't do it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Turning, he looked down the hall at the waiting room. "You can take him in there, Tyra, if you think that Jake needs it, but I'll be down in the truck. You all come down when you're done."

And with that Tim turned and walked out of the hospital.

"He's back here, Coach."

Eric Taylor followed the desk clerk down the hallway, waiting as the young man unlocked the hotel room door.

"Thank you for calling me," Eric said quietly. "I know you could have called the press-or the police."

The young man nodded slowly. "I was in the stands when you won the state championship with Riggins and Smash. And my brother-he got messed up in this stuff too. I'm just glad you could come down here."

Eric paused before he went into the dark room. "Yeah, me too."

He walked over to the bed where Smash lay, his clothes filthy. There was a stench of body odor, vomit and urine in the room.

"Smash," Eric said as he drew closer to the football player. "C'mon, Williams."

Smash slowly began to stir. "Coach Taylor?'

"You okay, there, son?" Eric asked. He'd heard about Smash's troubles with drugs, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the wide receiver lying prone on the bed. It looked like Smash had been on a long bender this time. "People been wonderin' where you are. You've had your mom real worried."

"Ah, I'm sorry about that," Smash slurred out. "I just had these guys I had to..."

"It's okay, Brian."

"So, you just tell my momma that you saw me and I'm doin' just fine," Smash finished.

Eric stood over the bed and shook his head. "Well, I don't know about that, Smash. You sure don't look fine. You look like you might need some help."

Smash struggled to sit up, his body limp as he supported all of his weight on his arms. He shook his head. "Nah, sir. I'm fine. I'm just fine."

"Well, that's kind of too bad, because I was hoping you might take a ride with me," Eric replied.

"A ride where?" Smash asked. "I think I'm doin' real good here."

Eric slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, his breath catching as the odors around him seemed to swallow him up. "You're not doin' real good, Smash. You're killing yourself and I want to help you."

"No one can help me now, Coach. You know that," Smash replied, suddenly changing his tune.

"If I believed that, I wouldn't be here," Eric replied. "It won't be easy, but you can get yourself out of this, son. Let me help you."

Eric reached out his hand to his former player. Take it, he silently pleaded.

Smash remained still on the bed for a moment, then looked up, his eyes filling with tears. Silently he reached out and grabbed Eric's hand.

Jason reached in the cooler for a couple of drinks-beer for him, non-alcoholic beer for Tim. He passed one over to Tim who was sitting against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him.

"How long you think we can stretch this play stupid act?" Tim asked.

Jason laughed and looked at the crib still in pieces across the garage floor. "I'd say at least a beer or two." He smiled and clinked bottles with Tim.

Tim picked up the instruction sheet and looked at it with a furrowed brow. "Tyra's going to tell me to call Landry, just you wait."

"We'll put it together. I want to," Jason said. "I just wanted to, you know, catch up a bit first."

"Ask me how I'm dealing with the daddy-issues?" Tim prompted.

Jason shrugged, his cheeks feeling warm suddenly. "That obvious?"

Tim nodded. "You're an open book, Street."

They were quiet for a minute, both sipping their drinks, then Tim cleared his throat.

"It was...I don't know. Pretty rotten I guess." He looked at Jay, his eyes dark. "Walt's got this perfect little family. Nice wife, sweet kid. Managing the golf course now, if you can believe that. If he wasn't half in the ground, it'd be easy to hate him."

Jason stared down at his hands, then looked up at Tim who was looking off into the distance. "I'm sorry, Timmy. That's got to be tough."

Tim shrugged and tipped his beer to his lips. "Whatever, not like I wanted some big reunion. I just went for Billy."

Jason heard the words, but he didn't believe them. He was sure a big part of Tim wanted to think he'd done this for his brother, but Jason knew better. Walt was a big issue for Tim, always had been. There should've been some closure here; a way to let Tim move past this once and for all. Instead he'd found out that he had a sister and things seemed worse than ever.

"I don't know what to say," Jason said pathetically. He smiled at Tim, who gave him a lopsided smile in return. "If you need anything..." His voice faded.

Tim's voice was rough when he replied. "I know."

"I mean it, Tim," Jason added, forcing his voice to stay firm and strong. "Anything, anytime. I'm here for you."

Tim nodded and tipped his bottle back to his lips, his eyes sliding away from Jason's face again. Jason didn't try to push the issue further. He hoped that Tim knew how he felt-that Jason would support him no matter what. Hopefully that was enough.

"Do you think it's bad luck to work on the nursery already?" Lyla asked as she dipped her paint brush in the paint can.

"If you want your baby to sleep in a crib I think you've started at just the right time," Tyra replied as she brushed her hand across her face. "I don't want to challenge Tim or Jason's manhood, but I'm feeling pretty lucky that I had Landry to assemble all of Jake's beds. Those two are pretty much useless."

Lyla reached over and wiped a dot of paint off Tyra's cheek. "Well, it's a fatal combination of disabilities. Jason can't use a screwdriver and Tim can't read directions."

Tyra laughed. "Well, at least Jason has a legitimate reason. It's not that Tim can't read the directions, it's that he won't."

"Mom," Jake said as he walked into the room.

"What babe?" Tyra asked as she set her paintbrush down on the edge of the paint can.

"Uncle Jason said that they need an interpreter. What's that?" Jake asked.

Tyra and Lyla laughed.

"It means you should call your Uncle Landry," Tyra explained.

"Okay," Jake said before he turned and headed out into the hall. He ran back to the garage where Jason and Tim were working yelling, "Dad! Mom says we have to call Uncle Landry 'cause you guys don't know how to make a crib!"

"Oh, you're going to pay for that one," Lyla said as she laughed.

"You didn't hear the two hour lecture on the way here about how awesome Tim and Jason were going to be at crib construction," Tyra responded. "I'm loving it. It's good practice for when we need one set up."

Lyla looked at her sharply but Tyra already had her hand raised up in defense.

"No, no, not yet anyway," she said, but she was smiling. "We talked about it some more though. I think he's getting there."

"Did it help to go visit his father?" Lyla asked.

Tyra frowned. "Not really. I think it made it worse. But I talked to Anne, and told her we'd love to have her and Jade up some weekend. After...well, Walt's not going to be around much longer." Tyra sighed. "It's a mess."

"You'll get through it," Lyla said. She wanted Tyra and Tim to be happy. And Tyra was so good with Jake. She deserved to have another baby with Tim there to experience everything this time around. Plus it would be so great for them all to have kids that were around the same age.

They painted quietly for a few moments when Tyra spoke up softly. "We're so happy for you guys. I hope you know that."

Lyla smiled at her friend. "We never would have gotten here without all of your support."

Tyra moved over and hugged Lyla. It still felt surreal sometimes that it was finally happening for her and Jason. They had tried for so long without ever seeing a positive pregnancy test. And now they were 21 weeks into the pregnancy and things were going great.

"Ah," Lyla said as she stepped back, her hand resting lightly on her rounded stomach.

"Everything okay?" Tyra asked.

"Just a couple of Braxton-Hicks," Lyla replied. "I've had them for a couple of days. The doctor says I have an irritable uterus."

"Do you want to sit down?" Tyra said, her voice filled with concern.

"No, I'll be fine," Lyla replied. She gasped and reached for Tyra's arm. "Oh, that was stronger."

"Let's lay down in your room," Tyra said. "And get you a drink of water. That always helped when I had early contractions with Jake."

"Okay," Lyla said, her voice now filling with fear. That pain had been different than the others.

"Do you want me to get Jason?" Tyra asked, as she slipped her arm around Lyla's waist.

"No," Lyla said, shaking her head. "I don't want to worry him." And she didn't-it was the last thing she wanted, but she was scared. This pain was different than the others. What was happening to the baby?

Four Years Later

Tami tore apart a tissue in her hands, letting her tears fall free down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe his life was over. Taken so early, so unfairly. How did God pick and choose who got to survive and who he stole away too early?

It wasn’t fair. He deserved to still be here. He was one of the good guys.

She shook her head and reached for another tissue, her tears falling to the tabletop. She had to call Julie again, maybe drive down there. She couldn’t stay here alone. Not today. She had to see her baby girl.

/tbc/

Disclaimer: All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.
Authors' Note: Thanks once again to our beta, devilc.