Walsh Family Universe V2

Chapter 71
Sibling Night

"Mom and Dad need a break from staring at your stinky butt," Eden announced when she showed up Saturday afternoon to pick Ash up.

"That's not—" Shannon started from the kitchen doorway.

"I'm paraphrasing," Eden said, grinning. "But you guys have had him all summer. You deserve a night out. Dinner, a movie, whatever couples do when they're not managing an eleven-year-old."

"We're not managing him," Patrick said, coming down the stairs in a nice shirt—the kind he wore for actual dates, not just work. "We're parenting him."

"Sure, Dad. That's what I said." Eden grabbed Ash's overnight bag that Shannon had already packed. "Come on, kid. We're having sibling night at Cathy's place. Declan's already there."

"Just Cathy, Eden, and Declan, right?" Shannon asked. "No extra guests?"

"Yes, of course. It's just the three of us." Eden looked at Shannon. "We've got this, Mom. We supervised him for a week while you were in Hawaii, remember? We managed not to lose him."

"I know, I just—"

"Mom." Ash stood up from the couch. "I'll be fine. You guys should go have fun."

Shannon and Patrick exchanged one of those parent looks. The kind where they had a whole conversation without words.

"Alright," Patrick finally said. "But call if you need anything. And Ash—"

"Be good, listen to my siblings, no complaining," Ash recited. "I know, Dad."

"And no PG-13 movies," Shannon added.

Eden made a noncommittal sound that could have been agreement but probably wasn't.

Cathy's apartment was in a newer building downtown, the kind with a doorman and actual amenities. She'd moved there after getting promoted at work, leaving behind the graduate student housing she'd shared with roommates.

"Nice place," Ash said as they rode the elevator to the eighth floor.

"Wait till you see it. She's got a balcony and everything." Eden led him down the hall to 804, knocked twice, then used her key.

"I gave you that key for emergencies," Cathy called from somewhere inside.

"This is an emergency. We're starving and you promised pizza."

The apartment was open-concept—living room flowing into kitchen, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the city below. Declan was sprawled on the couch, already making himself at home with the TV remote.

"Finally," he said. "I've been here for twenty minutes and Cathy won't let me order food until everyone arrived."

"Because I'm not paying for pizza twice if people show up late and want their own," Cathy emerged from the kitchen. "Hey, Noam. You good?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Make yourself comfortable. We're getting pizza, then we're watching whatever the majority votes for, and absolutely no one is telling Mom about any of it."

"What would we tell Mom about?" Ash asked suspiciously.

"Nothing yet. But the night is young." Cathy pulled up a pizza delivery app on her phone. "Okay, voting time. What does everyone want?"

They debated toppings for ten minutes—Declan wanted meat lovers, Eden wanted vegetarian, Cathy wanted something with actual vegetables. They ended up ordering two large pizzas to cover everyone's preferences.

While they waited for food, Ash explored the apartment. It was neat but lived-in—photos on the walls, books on shelves, a desk in the corner with Cathy's laptop and scattered papers.

"You can look at stuff," Cathy said, noticing him examining her bookshelf. "I don't have anything secret."

"You have a lot of books about psychology."

"Part of my job. Understanding how people think, how they make decisions, how they cope with stuff." Cathy paused. "Actually useful for understanding you, sometimes."

"Am I that complicated?"

"You're eleven with thirty-three years of memories. Yeah, you're complicated." But she said it kindly, not like an accusation.

The pizza arrived. They spread out in the living room—no dining table formality, just siblings eating on the couch and floor, paper plates and napkins scattered around.

"Mom would have a stroke if she saw this," Eden observed.

"Good thing Mom's at a nice restaurant with Dad, having adult time," Cathy said. "This is how normal people eat pizza. Casually. With questionable TV in the background."

"What are we watching?" Ash asked.

"Democracy," Declan declared. "We vote."

They ended up with a comedy show that everyone could agree on—something with ridiculous premises and physical humor that didn't require following complex plots.

Halfway through the second episode, Declan said, "This is nice. Just us."

"Yeah," Eden agreed. "No parents hovering, no Sophie needing attention, no formal family dinner energy. Just hanging out."

"Remember when we used to do this more?" Cathy asked. "Before everything got complicated?"

"Before I got arrested, you mean," Ash said.

Awkward silence. Then Eden threw a couch pillow at his head.

"We're not doing heavy conversation night. We're doing mindless TV and too much pizza night."

"Fair enough."

But later, after they'd finished eating and were sprawled in various states of comfortable laziness, Declan brought it up again.

"Can I ask something?"

"Depends on the question," Ash said.

"Is it weird? Hanging out with us like this? We're your younger siblings but we're also... not."

"It's weird," Ash admitted. "But good weird. You guys don't treat me like I'm fragile. Mom and Dad are always so careful, like I might break if they say the wrong thing. You guys just... are normal around me."

"That's because we know you're not actually eleven," Eden said. "Like, you are, physically. But in there—" she tapped her temple, "—you're still you. Still Ash. And Ash was never the kind of person who wanted to be coddled."

"Exactly," Cathy agreed. "So we're going to treat you like our brother. Which means sometimes we're going to be annoying, sometimes we're going to make fun of you, and sometimes—" she grabbed the remote, "—we're going to make you watch a movie you probably won't like because it's our turn to choose."

She pulled up a romantic comedy. Declan groaned.

"This is torture."

"This is equality," Cathy corrected. "You picked the last movie when we did this. Now it's my turn."

The movie was actually not terrible—predictable but funny, with enough jokes that even Declan laughed occasionally. Ash found himself getting drawn into it despite himself.

"You're smiling," Eden observed.

"It's a comedy. That's the point."

"No, you're smiling at the romance part. The part where they're being all cute and awkward."

"Shut up."

"Noam has a romantic side," Cathy teased. "Who knew?"

"I hate you both."

"Love you too, little brother."

After the movie, Eden suggested they play cards. She produced a deck and they cleared space on the coffee table.

"What are we playing?" Declan asked.

"Poker."

"He's eleven."

"He's thirty-three with an eleven-year-old body," Eden corrected. "And we're playing for pretzels, not money. Noam, you know how to play poker?"

"I know the basics."

"Good enough."

They played for an hour, trash-talking and stealing each other's pretzel stacks. Ash won the first hand, lost the second, caught Declan trying to cheat on the third.

"I wasn't cheating!"

"You literally had an extra card up your sleeve."

"That's called strategy."

"That's called cheating."

Cathy refereed, Eden dealt, and they played until the pretzels were gone and Declan declared he was "emotionally devastated by his losses."

"You won three hands," Eden pointed out.

"But I could have won four if you'd dealt better."

"That's not how cards work."

Around ten o'clock, Ash started feeling tired. The kind of tired that came from a full day and too much pizza and the comfortable exhaustion of being around people you loved.

"Someone's fading," Cathy noticed.

"I'm fine."

"You're yawning every thirty seconds." She stood up. "Guest room's made up. You can sleep in there or crash on the couch if you want."

"Guest room's good."

The guest room was small but nice—a full bed, dresser, window overlooking the city lights. Cathy had put out fresh towels and a glass of water on the nightstand.

"Bathroom's through that door. Mom packed your toothbrush and stuff." Cathy hovered in the doorway. "You good? Need anything?"

"I'm good. Thanks for this. For letting me hang out with you guys."

"You're our brother. This is what siblings do." Cathy smiled. "Well, this and torture each other. But mostly this."

After she left, Ash got ready for bed. Brushed his teeth, changed into the pajamas Shannon had packed, climbed into the unfamiliar bed.

He could hear his siblings in the living room—muffled voices, occasional laughter. The TV still on, playing something he couldn't quite make out.

This was different from being home. Different from the careful structure of his parents' house. This felt more like the week they'd supervised him while Mom and Dad were in Hawaii—casual, relaxed, treating him like a person instead of a project.

He thought about what Eden had said. That they knew he was still Ash inside. That they weren't going to coddle him or pretend he was just a regular eleven-year-old.

It was nice, being seen that way. Being treated like he was both Noam and Ash, not having to choose or perform one identity over the other.

Ash woke to the smell of bacon. He padded out to the kitchen in his pajamas, hair sticking up on one side.

Eden was at the stove, Declan was setting the table, and Cathy was pouring orange juice.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Eden said. "Want breakfast?"

"Is it actually breakfast or is it breakfast-for-dinner at breakfast time?"

"It's bacon, eggs, and toast. Stop overthinking it."

They ate together, passing plates around, Declan stealing extra bacon off everyone's plates when they weren't looking.

"What time are Mom and Dad picking me up?" Ash asked.

"Eleven," Cathy said. "But don't be in a rush to leave. We're fun."

"I know you're fun."

"Good. Because we're doing this again." Eden pointed her fork at him. "Regular sibling nights. Once a month at least. No parents, no Sophie, just us four."

"Five if Claire wants to come," Cathy added. "Though honestly, she'd probably just lecture us about how we're all doing it wrong."

"She means well," Declan said.

"She means well but she's exhausting." Eden finished her eggs. "So, Noam. Once a month. You in?"

Ash thought about it. About having this—time with his siblings, away from the careful structure of home, away from being watched and managed. Time to just exist with people who saw both versions of him.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm in."

"Excellent. Next month we're going to my place and we're making Declan cook actual food instead of grilled cheese."

"Grilled cheese is actual food!"

"It's bread and cheese. That's two ingredients."

"Three if you count butter."

"We're not counting butter."

They bickered good-naturedly through breakfast cleanup. When eleven o'clock came, Shannon and Patrick arrived to pick Ash up.

"How was it?" Shannon asked immediately.

"Good," Ash said.

"Just good?"

"Really good," he amended. "We played cards and watched movies and ate pizza on the couch."

Shannon looked at his siblings. "You fed him properly? Not just pizza?"

"He had bacon and eggs this morning," Cathy said. "And vegetables on his pizza last night."

"Vegetables on pizza doesn't count—"

"Mom," Ash interrupted. "It was fine. They took good care of me. I had fun."

Shannon studied his face, clearly looking for signs of... something. Whatever she was worried about. But Ash met her gaze steadily, and eventually she relaxed.

"Okay. Good." She looked at her other children. "Thank you. For watching him."

"He's our brother," Eden said simply. "This is what we do."

In the car on the way home, Patrick asked how the date night had been.

"Nice," Shannon admitted. "We went to that Italian place downtown, saw a movie. It was good to just... be adults for an evening."

"You needed the break," Ash said from the back seat.

Shannon turned around to look at him. "We don't think of you as a burden, honey."

"I know. But you still needed the break. And I had fun with Cathy and Eden and Declan."

"They said you guys are going to do monthly sibling nights," Patrick said.

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay." Patrick glanced at Shannon. "We think it's good for you to spend time with them. They relate to you differently than we do."

Which was an interesting way of saying they treated him like someone who'd lived before instead of a child to be managed. But Ash appreciated the acknowledgment.

That night, in his own bed, Ash thought about the evening and morning at Cathy's apartment.

Pizza eaten casually. Poker played for pretzels. Movies watched without worry about age-appropriateness. Conversations that acknowledged who he really was instead of tiptoeing around it.

His siblings saw him. Not just Noam the eleven-year-old, but Ash underneath. And they treated both versions with casual affection and normalcy.

That was its own kind of gift. Different from what his parents could offer, but equally valuable.

"My name is Ash," he whispered to his dark bedroom. "I'm thirty-three years old. I'm eleven years old. Today I hung out with my siblings who are younger than me but also older, who treat me like both a kid and an adult, who don't pretend this situation is simple or normal but also don't make it weird. Today I played poker for pretzels and watched rom-coms and ate bacon in my pajamas. Today I was just their brother, in whatever complicated way that means now."

Four thousand, six hundred and ninety-one days to go.

But once a month, he'd have sibling nights. Once a month, he'd get to exist as both versions of himself without having to choose.

And that felt like another small piece of normal in a life that would never be fully normal again.

Growing up with siblings who saw him.

One pizza night at a time.