The choice you
Make today
Shapes your tomorrow
Chapter 6
When Tim finally got home, his father was eager to know why he had stayed out so long. Both his father and his sister, Sarah, had been worried. Sarah, however, seemed more concerned about her stomach than about Tim; the poor girl hadn't eaten since lunchtime, and her small tummy was grumbling in protest. Sensing how hungry they were, Tim avoided answering his father's question and went straight to the kitchen to make dinner.
As he cooked, his thoughts kept drifting back to the lovely girl he had met. It felt as though her ocean-blue eyes had taken hold of him. They were so vivid in his mind, and the memory of her smile alone was enough to make him smile in return.
He was so lost in these thoughts that he didn't notice when his sister entered the kitchen. She walked up to him and stared at her brother with concern. Tim stood frozen in place, a spoon in his hand, motionless over the steaming pot, completely transfixed.
"Tim, Tim," Sarah said, tugging at the tail of his shirt.
"Um—" Tim startled back to reality and turned to his sister. "What is it?"
"Isn't dinner ready yet? I'm dying," she drawled childishly.
"Hey, hang in there," he said, bending down to her. "Dinner will be here to rescue you soon."
Sarah sniffed the air. "It smells like something is burning."
Tim straightened up at once. "Oh no!" he exclaimed, quickly grabbing the pot off the stove with his bare hands. The hot steel scorched his skin, and he dropped it immediately. The pot hit the floor with a loud clatter, and the beans inside splattered everywhere.
Fortunately, Sarah was standing behind him, so when the pot dropped on the ground, she ran to the side of the refrigerator to avoid being burned by the splattering beans.
"Oh, great," he groaned, staring in dismay at the mess.
"What's going on in there?" his father's voice called from the living room.
"Nothing, Dad—I just accidentally dropped the spoon," Tim lied.
"Hurry up with the food, okay?" his father added. "I can feel the worms threatening to eat through the walls of my stomach."
Sarah looked at Tim with gloomy eyes. "What are we going to eat now?" she grumbled.
Tim sighed. "Well, I guess that leaves us with the spaghetti. I was saving it for breakfast tomorrow, but now we'll have to find something else. Get me the mop, will you?"
Sarah brought him the mop, and Tim began to clean up the mess.
She watched him for a moment, then spoke on impulse. "Tim—"
"Mm-hmm," he replied without looking up.
"Why were you standing like that when I came in?"
Tim paused and looked at her with a small smile. "How was I standing?"
"Like… like you were a statue."
"A statue?"
"Yeah."
"Kiddo, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do." She looked at him with clever eyes. "Are you in love?"
"In love? What made you think of something so silly?" he asked, surprised.
"Doris said boys act funny when they meet a girl and fall in love."
Tim stared at Sarah, confused and unsure of what to say. "What are you trying to say?" he asked defensively.
Sarah shrugged. "Doris said her brother acted like that when he met a girl named Rose. Now he buys her flowers every day. She also said—"
"Stop right there," Tim cut in. "You've said enough. Just go tell Dad that dinner will be a little late, okay? And don't tell him I spilled the beans."
Sarah gave a knowing smile and walked toward the door. "I think Doris was right," she muttered to herself before heading into the living room.
"Huh, kids," Tim shook his head. "They're only seven, and they think they know everything."
Soon, dinner was ready, and they all sat down to eat.
"This doesn't taste like bean porridge," his father said after the first bite of spaghetti.
"No, it's not, Dad," Sarah said quickly. "He dropped that on the floor because he was thinking about a girl."
"You little tattletale," Tim said, frowning at her. "I'll get you for that."
"Easy, Tim," his father said with a smile. "And really, what's wrong with thinking about a girl? You're twenty-three, and I can't remember the last time you brought one home."
"Oh Dad, please don't start that again," Tim said as he twisted his fork in his spaghetti. "You know I barely have time for myself, let alone for someone else."
"I know how hard you work to keep this family together, Tim," his father said softly. Pain flickered across his face as he thought back to the accident—the one that took Tim's mother and left him in this state. "Ever since then, you've been everything to us. I'm so grateful; I just... I hate that you had to stop being a kid. You should be out living your life, not just taking care of us."
"Dad… Dad, please stop," Tim interrupted gently. "I'm not complaining, am I? And besides, I do have a social life. I've joined a band."
His father's face lit up with surprise. "A band?" he asked, sounding unsure. "Did you say you've joined a band?"
"Mm-hmm," Tim nodded, his mouth full of spaghetti.
"What's the name of the band?" Sarah asked, shoveling more spaghetti into her mouth.
Tim paused and thought for a moment. "Actually, I don't think they told me, and I didn't ask," he said with a hint of regret. Inside, he scolded himself for always forgetting to ask names.
"Ah-ha! I knew it," Sarah sang teasingly. "You're lying. You haven't joined any band."
Tim shot her an annoyed look. "Of course I have, silly," he said firmly.
"Then how come you don't know the band's name?"
"I told you—they didn't tell me, and I forgot to ask," he snapped.
"Don't worry, Tim," his father said calmly. "I believe you. Tell me about it."
Tim went on to explain how he met the band members, how they invited him to audition, what happened during the audition, and the names of everyone in the band. When he finished, his father looked glad and relieved; it pleased him to know that Tim was finally doing something he had always wanted to do.