Tommy 2

“You have got to be kidding me, there’s no way.”
“It’s already done Matt, just get on board.”
“I can’t believe this, do you really think this is necessary? It’s goddamn ridiculous!”
“Maybe if you were around more you’d have some kind of idea about what’s going on in this house. Ever think about your son and what he’s going through? All you ever think about is yourself, not me or Tommy. It’s just you, you, you. No room for the rest of us.”
“I work Carol, it’s called a job. What do you want me to do, quit the job so I can play catch with the kid after school? I’m doing the best I can, but I have to work.”
“You need to get your priorities straight and pay attention to your family.”
“I don’t know what you want from me. I’m home every weekend. I don’t go out with the guys after work.”
“You go out all the time!”
“With clients! I go out with clients. It’s how I do my job.”
“Maybe if your job was a little less important and your son was a little more important, he wouldn’t need all this help.”
“I can’t believe you took him to see a shrink, he’s gotta think something’s wrong with him now.”
“Something is wrong, he needs help. I talked to the doctor and she totally agreed with everything I said. It’s like I’ve been telling you but you never listen. Pay attention to me sometime Matt, and maybe you’d understand what’s going on.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me Carol.”
“What do you care? You never listen to what I have to say, you obviously don’t care about either of us.”
“I’m right here, right now. I’m listening, Carol, why don’t you tell me what’s so wrong with him? He seems fine to me.”
“Fine! You think he’s goddamn fine? He’s depressed Matt, and he’s obviously miserable being around you.”
“The hell you talking about? We get along just fine.”
“This is exactly what I mean you stupid shit, you don’t pay attention to anything. He sleeps too much, he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, he doesn’t have any friends. Tommy is obviously hurting and it doesn’t help that you don’t pay attention to him at all.”
“He’s fifteen years old, he doesn’t want to spend all his time talking to us anymore. It’s called being a goddamn teenager!”
“Oh yeah? Well that’s not what the doctor said, alright? I told her all about how he’s acting and all the reading I’ve been doing about what might be bothering him. And she said that I was spot on. Spot fucking on Matt.”
“Of course she agreed with you, that’s what shrinks do. You pay them, they listen and tell you what you want to hear. That’s the whole point!”
“It’s always about the money with you, all you care about is the goddamn money! Therapists listen and try to help Matt, that’s what they do. They try to help people, not that you’d know anything about that.”
“Christ Carol, you must be out of your goddamn mind. You want to send him to some loony bin because he won’t talk to you anymore? What’s the matter with you?”
“It’s not a fucking loony bin Matt, it’s a clinic.”
“Yeah, a clinic for crazy kids, it’s goddamn ridiculous.”
“He needs help and I can’t do it on my own. You don’t care enough to do anything about it, obviously.”
“He’s just a kid, there’s nothing wrong with him. Just give him a little time and space and he’ll be just fine.”
“He’s struggling, and I can’t fix him by myself. And you won’t goddamn help because you can’t even waste enough time to notice that something’s wrong. Look around you Matt, there’s a whole world out here that you need to pay attention to from time to time.”
“You know what Carol? Do what you want. Send him to whatever goddamn crazy clinic you want to. God help him in one of those places, these doctors are goddamn leeches. Jesus, I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want you to fucking care about somebody other than yourself!”
“I bust my ass every goddamn day to provide for my family, that’s what I do.”
“Bullshit Matt.”
“That’s right, whatever I say is bullshit. Every time I say anything it’s bullshit to you. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. I can’t win, it’s absurd. This whole thing, you’re fucking absurd. I’m done, do what you want, send the kid away so you feel better about yourself. Fuck do I care.”

Tommy could hear the whole argument from his room. He didn’t know if his parents didn’t know that he could hear them, or if they didn’t care. It didn’t matter; he’d heard versions of the same fights over and over. He rolled over and put a pillow over his head to try and sleep. They’d be at it for hours.