OOC Disclaimer: If you’ve been following along with the ‘End Game’ saga, clearly I’m not killing Thad. Ever. Just wait for that follow up. That story timeline is fluid. The following takes place some indeterminable amount of time after the end of the war and other events you don’t know about yet.

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Safe Haven || Newport, Rhode Island || 4:08 PM

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Admittedly, I’ve been playing it cool all day today. It’s Mother’s Day and as such, Lauren has been in a mood because not a soul has recognized her. Yes, she’s the stepmother to my children, but I have my reasons for not acknowledging her and instructing Frankie as well as anyone else to do the same.

What are they?

Maybe I’ll tell you later.

I love this time of year. Trees, flowers, everything in full bloom. No more bitter cold. No more snow. No more bundling up to brave the bone chillingly frigid temperatures of the frozen northeast. We were planning on coming to Safe Haven at the end of May, after Frankie was out of school for the summer. Plans changed when I had to undergo emergency heart surgery to remove the old bullet from yesteryear. As much s I love New York. As much as I love the penthouse mansion at Woolworth, Safe Haven is different. It’s quieter. It’s calmer. It’s a hell of a lot more secluded. It’s a great place to relax after delicate surgery.

”It’s weird,” Frankie says from the passenger seat of my Corvette.

”What’s weird?” I ask him as I punch in the six digit entry code at the gate outside of Safe Haven.

”I was just thinking how small this place is,” he replies. ”I mean, it’s not small. But like...” his voice trails off as he tries to find the words to explain what he means.

The gate buzzes a few seconds and swings open, allowing me to accelerate the American would-be exotic muscle car through the gates. That’s another thing – no more security. No details following us around everywhere we go. I always wanted a normal life and while my life will never be normal by average every day people standards, it feels good to just have my family and friends around me without the lingering men in black packing heat around every corner of the house.

”Like… I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

”Try,” I encourage him as I slow the car to a stop beneath the canopy at the side of the house. Looking at my phone for a second, I’m disappointed that what I’m waiting on still hasn’t come through.

”Well,” he begins to try and explain. ”I remember living with Keith in that apartment in Brooklyn.”

”Yeah that’s where we first met,” I say to him with a smile, offering him a fist bump.

”But I don’t know,” he says, returning the bump before we start exiting the car.

”Let’s go to the garage,” I say while lifting a plastic shopping bag out of the backseat.

”I guess maybe I just got used to the good life,” he says with a smile as he walks beside me. ”The Compound was gigantic. The place in New York is four freakin’ stories of awesome.

“This place is big but it’s a dwarf compared to those two.”

”Even when I downsize, it’s too big,” I joke to myself while pushing my Harley to the center of the garage.

”What’s wrong with it?” he asks as he leans down and ‘inspects’ the old machine as if he knows what he’s looking at.

”Nothing, but it’s been sitting all winter,” I tell him, once more checking my phone. ”Need to change the oil and filter.”

”Can I help?” he asks.

”Of course you can,” I reply with a smile while I sit down on the floor beside the motorcycle.

”Where do we start?”

”Grab that drain pan,” I instruct him.

”Probably shouldn’t be doin’ engine work when you can’t even have sex with Lauren,” he says with a sly smile.

Jaw.

Meet floor.

”How do you even know that?” I ask of the boy.

”Voices carry and I’m not asleep when you think I’m asleep,” he answers.

”5:27,” I think aloud.

”What’s 5:27?” he asks.

”Don’t worry about it,” I reply with a smile.

He brings it over, laying it beneath the Harley. After checking my phone, again, we get to work on changing the oil. He tries hard to loosen the drain plug but his little arms just can’t budge it loose. Helping him, the plug finally budges and I let him finish taking it out. Frankie starts bitching a little when the thick black oil starts to cover his little hands.

Later, after the oil change, the two of us clean up and sit in the garage. Me with a beer, he with a root beer.

”He didn’t get it done, did he?” he asks with sadness evident.

”It doesn’t appear so,” I answer him, with some sadness of my own.

”Maan,” he mutters under his breath. ”You should call him.”

”Hey, maybe I should call him,” I agree.

Pulling out my phone, I call him up.

”I know!” shouts my attorney, Robert Zane.

”You got us by the balls here Zane,” I say lightheartedly.

”I just got it done and my secretary sent it to your email,” he informs me. ”The amount of hoops I had to jump through to get a judge to sign off on this on a weekend? Thad, you owe me.”

”Is three billion dollars worth of business ventures not enough for you?” I asks with a laugh. ”Did it not buy you that big ass boat to impress your girlfriend that your wife doesn’t know about?”

”I hate you Thad,” he jokes, but ends the call quickly.

”You sure this is what you want?” I ask the boy as he jumps out of his chair excitedly.

”LET’S GOOOOOO!” he exclaims while grabbing my wrist and pulling me into the house. Just before we’re through the doorway, I grab the plastic shopping bag from earlier.

Hurrying me through the house, still pulling me by my wrist, the boy forces me inside what was intended to be an office where I could conduct State business. Now, its just a desk, computer and printer.

”Print it!” he yells out.

For the fun of it, I take my time sitting down. I take my time waking up the computer. I take my time doing everything… just to watch his anxiety skyrocket. In all honesty? I’m as excited as he is.

CLICK.

In short order, a twelve page document shoots from the printer. In all my life, I don’t think I’ve done anything as important as what I just did. No wrestling titles, no tv shows, no movies, no main events, no anything is this damn big. Not to me, at least.

After putting everything together, I let Frankie do the wrapping. World of Warcraft wrapping paper because, you might not know this, Lauren’s a big fucking dork.

”Thad?” he says as I hand him a piece of tape. ”I think I wanna start calling you Dad.”

”You sure?” I ask him. I’m an emotional man. NOTHING gets to me as suddenly as the few times he’s called me dad.

”I just...” his voice trails off as he places the last piece of tape on the package. ”I wanna feel normal again.”

”You know the rules,” I remind him. ”Only if you want to.”

”Can I go get her now?” he asks as he jumps to his feet.

I nod with a smile on my face. Like a bullet, he’s gone. After he leaves, I pick up the wrapped gift and proceed toward the family room. Peeking at my phone: 5:20. Seven minutes. When I had my surgery and the doctors told me all the things I couldn’t do, I made sure they gave me an exact time in which I could be physical with my wife again.

They laughed.

I wasn’t joking.

I’m a very active man and I’d been in the warzone at that point for ten days. It’s been a week since then. Are you doing the math? 17 days. For 17 days this very active man has been very much inactive and I’m about to burst.

Before I checked out of the hospital, I got my answer: May 8th, 5:27 PM.

Needless to say, I set an alarm.

When I make it to the family room, much like he was pulling me, Frankie is pulling Lauren by her wrist. Things have been sort of… off… between us today. I was intentionally not acknowledging her for Mother’s Day for this exact moment. Fact is, I know it was bothering her. We fought like hell earlier. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it this way, but… I couldn’t do it any other way.

”Hey,” I say quietly.

”Fuck off,” she replies.

”Frankie and I,” I begin, before pausing for a beat. ”We put something together for you.”

”Like what?” she asks, her intensity lifting almost immediately.

”Something freakin’ awesome,” Frankie chimes in. I hand him the box, he gives it to her.

”World of Warcraft paper?” she says with a little smile and a roll of her eyes.

”You’re a big fucking dork but...”

”But you’re our big fucking dork,” he interrupts.

”God dammit Frankie, watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

Slowly, she starts to tear open the paper revealing the box inside. Opening the box, she scrunches her face in a look we all know and love.



”Certificate of,” she stops herself. ”I don’t understand.”

”Look,” I point out on the document. ”That’s you,” I say sarcastically with a laugh.

”I know my name, Thad.”

”You sign that, we send it to Robert Zane...”

”And you’re my mom,” Frankie completes my explanation.

Lauren stands in a stunned silence for an uncomfortably long time.

”Frankie and I, we gave you the only thing you couldn’t give yourself,” I tell her. ”Motherhood.”

Uncharacteristically, tears well up in her eyes as Frankie gives her a huge hug. ”Happy Mother’s Day, mom.” Lauren hits her knees as Frankie calls her “mom.” She holds him tight and he her. Me? I just stand here smiling. I had my moment, so I let them have theirs. I still remember how it felt when his adoption went through.

A minute or so later: ”It’s 5:27 PM,” my phone states.



The alarm goes off.

”It’s time!”

”For what?” Frankie asks.

”Baby let’s go,” she says as she tries to grab my hand. Instead, I lift her off her feet to my arms.

”Frankie… go play video games for an hour or so.”

”Your mom and dad are gonna have sex,” Lauren blurts out as we head around the corner leaving Frankie behind in the family room.

”So that’s what 5:27 was.”

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