Without the Word “Should”
Years ago, when the world seemed weighed down by silent expectations, John returned home from work one evening and opened the front door. The aroma of leftovers lingered in the air. Three dinner plates, hardened with dried spaghetti, perched haphazardly on the kitchen table beside an overturned yoghurt pot and an open exercise book, its squared lines blurred by a stray drop of juice. Daniels backpack lay abandoned across the hallway, and Emily was curled up on the sofa, lost in the pale blue glow of her phone.
John set his briefcase by the wall and slipped off his shoes, tiredness pressing down on his shoulders. He wanted to comment on the plates, but found himself too weary, the words sticking in his throat. Instead, he crossed to the table, lifted one plate, and carried it to the sink.
Ill wash them in a minute, Dad, Emily murmured without looking up.
All right, he replied softly.
He switched on the tap, let the water run over the plate until the spaghetti loosened and slipped away, then stopped and watched his own reflection in the gleaming ceramic.
Em, wheres Daniel?
In his room. Working on maths.
And you?
Ive finished my homework already.
He dried his hands on the towel and headed to Daniels room. His son was sprawled on the floor, propped up by a fist under his chin, a half-completed sum visible through a smudge of pencil lead.
Hello, John greeted.
Hi, Dad.
How are things?
Fine.
Homework?
Im getting on with it.
John perched at the edge of the bed. Daniel cast him a wary glance, then returned to scowling at the sums.
Whats up, Dad? Daniel asked.
Im not sure, breathed John. I suppose Im tired.
He truly didnt know. His mother had rung that morning, asking him to come help with a stubborn chest of drawers, and a meeting at work had trundled on past six. Hed spent the tube journey home squashed by the closing doors. Now, in Daniels room, he realised he didnt want to say anything about plates, homework, or tidying up. He had no desire to simply be the function that flicked on the house and kept things going.
Lets all sit down together in the kitchen, he suggested. All three of us.
Why? Daniel grimaced.
Just to talk.
Is this about my English mark again?
No. Just to talk.
But, Dad, I havent finished my homework.
You can finish later. Five minutes.
John rose, left the room, and called to Emily. She met his gaze with a sigh of protest.
Are you being serious?
I am.
She tossed her phone onto the sofa with a huff and followed him. Daniel trailed after, pausing in the kitchen doorway as though uncertain.
John cleared the exercise book aside and sat at the table. Emily flopped into a chair opposite; Daniel eased onto the very edge of his seat.
Whats happened? Emily demanded.
Nothings happened.
Then why?
He looked from Emily to Daniel, noticing the anxious line between his sons browswaiting, perhaps, for trouble.
I just want to talk, John said quietly. Honestly. Not you must do your homework or the plates need washing or any of that.
Daniel eyed him cautiously, So are you saying we dont have to wash up?
Well do it after. This is about something else.
Emily folded her arms. Youre acting strange, Dad.
Strange, yes, he agreed. Maybe because Im tired of pretending everythings normal.
They sat in silence, the words slow to come. John fumbled for them, feeling only hollow fatigue.
I dont know quite how to say this, he began. It seems like were all performing. I come home, you act as though everythings all right, and I act as if I believe you. We discuss school, what to eatbut really, were hardly talking at all.
Youre putting a lot on us, Dad, Emily said softly. Why?
Im not sure. Maybe because Im struggling myself, and Im afraid youre struggling tooeven if I dont know why, exactly.
Daniel frowned. Im fine.
Are you? John studied him. Then why have you only been falling asleep after midnight the past fortnight?
Daniel stared at the table.
I hear youre up late, John said gently. You look tired every morning, as if you havent slept at all.
I just dont feel like sleeping, thats all.
Daniel.
Well, what?! he replied defensively.
Just tell me whats really happening.
Daniel jerked his shoulder and looked away. Schools fine. I do my homework. What else?
Emily spoke up: Dad, why are you interrogating him?
Im not interrogating. I want to understand.
If he doesnt want to talk, thats his right.
John turned to her. Then youwould you tell me how you are?
She smirked. Me? Im fine. Im studying, chatting to friends, all as it should be.
Em.
She fell silent and looked away. What?
You barely leave the house these days. Twice your friends have invited you out and you said no.
So what? I just didnt feel like it.
Why not?
Her jaw set.
Im tired of them. Tired of talk about boys and nonsense. All right?
All right, he said. It just seems to me youre unhappy.
She shook her head, as if to flick away his words. Im not unhappy.
All right.
He stopped. The kitchen was quiet, only the fridge ticking behind them.
Listen, he said slowly, Im not here to lecture. Nor to be comforted. I just want to tell you honestly: Im frightened. Every day. I worry about money, about Granny getting ill and not saying. I worry about being made redundant at work. I worry youve got troubles and I dont notice, because Im too wrapped up in myself. Im tired of pretending to have everything under control.
Emily blinked at him, her expression softer. But youre the grown-up, she murmured. Youre supposed to cope.
I know. But I dont always manage.
Daniel looked up. And what happens if you cant?
I dont know, John admitted. Maybe Ill have to ask for help.
From whom?
From you, perhaps.
Daniel scowled. But were just kids.
You are, yes. But youre also part of this family. And sometimes I need you to tell me the truthnot just Im fine, but whats really going on.
Emily dragged a fingertip in circles on the table. Why do you need to know?
So I dont feel alone.
She lifted her eyes, and for a second he glimpsed understanding.
Im scared to go to school, Daniel blurted suddenly. Theres a boy who calls me thick. Every day. The others laugh.
John felt his chest tighten.
Whats his name?
Im not telling. Youll talk to him, and itll get worse.
I wont go. I promise.
Daniel watched him, uncertain. Truly?
Truly. But I need you to knowyoure not alone.
Daniel nodded, staring down.
Ive got Oliver. Hes all right. We sit together.
Good.
Emily sighed. I dont want to go to university, she said quietly. Everyone keeps asking where Ill apply, and I honestly dont know. I dont know what I want, and it feels like Ill never go anywhere because Im not clever at anything.
Em, youre fourteen, John reminded.
So? Everyone else has figured it out. Not me.
Not everyone.
Everyone I know, then.
He paused. When I was your age, I wanted to be a geologist. Changed my mind. Changed it again. And now I dont even work in that field.
Andis that all right?
Sometimes. Sometimes its hard. Thats how life isnot meant to be all decided in advance.
She nodded, uncertain. Well, it feels like everyone says you have to choose.
They say it, yes. But thats their view, not yours.
She looked at him, almost smiling. Youre different tonight.
Im tired of being the right one.
Daniel gave a small, wry laugh. Can I ask something?
Go on.
Are you really scared?
Yes.
So what do you do when youre scared?
John thought for a while.
I get up in the morning, and do something. Even if Im not sure its the right thing. I just do it.
Daniel nodded, thinking it over. I see.
They sat without speaking. John gazed at his children, knowing he hadnt solved anything or provided answers, or lifted their anxiety. But something had changed: hed let them see that he was more than a role, that he, too, was human. And they responded the same.
Well then, Emily said, rising, lets get those plates done.
Ill help, Daniel offered.
So will I, John added.
They all stood together; Emily switched on the tap, Daniel fetched the sponge, and John took up the tea towel. They worked in silence, though now it was a different kind of quietnot empty, but warm and full.
When the last plate clattered onto the rack, Emily dried her hands and looked at her father.
Dad, can we talk like that againsometime?
Whenever you like, he said.
She nodded, slipping away to her room. Daniel lingered, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Thanks for not sorting things with that boy, he said.
But if it gets bad,ll you tell me?
I will.
Come on, thenlets finish my maths.
They walked off to Daniels room and settled on the carpet side by side. John opened the exercise book, looked over the sums. Daniel scooted closer, and they began to work through the problems, not hurrying, almost as if it were their usual custom. But now John knew that beneath these exercises was a boy who carried fears, and that he, John, could be therenot just as someone ticking boxes, but as someone who is occasionally afraid and chooses to get up each morning anyway.
It wasnt a lot, but it was a beginning.
