Walsh Family Universe V2

Chapter 47
Sibling Supervision

"So we'll be gone for seven days," Mom said, going over the list for what felt like the hundredth time. "Eden's in charge overall since she's the most available—"

"Twenty-six and finally trusted with responsibility," Eden said from the couch, grinning.

"—but Cathy and Declan will be staying here too, taking shifts so someone's always home." Mom continued as if Eden hadn't spoken. "The emergency numbers are on the fridge, Dr. Morrison's office, the neighbor's number—"

"Mom, we've got this," Cathy said gently. "We've all babysat before."

"Not for a week," Mom said. "And not—" She glanced at Ash, who was packing his backpack for school. "Not all together like this."

What she meant was: Not Noam. Not your brother who's also sort of not your brother anymore.

"We'll be fine," Declan said. He was sprawled in the armchair, scrolling through his phone with the studied disinterest of a twenty-nine-year-old who lived in his own apartment and was only here because Mom had guilted him into it. "It's just Noam. How hard can it be?"

Dad emerged from the bedroom with their suitcases. "The house rules are on the fridge too. Bedtime at nine on school nights, homework before screen time, no junk food for dinner every night—"

"We know how to take care of a kid, Dad," Cathy said. "Go on your anniversary trip. Enjoy Hawaii. We'll keep your son alive and relatively well-behaved."

"Relatively?" Dad raised an eyebrow.

"I'm making no promises about homework compliance."

Ash rolled his eyes but said nothing. He was nine years old, not a baby. He didn't need this much supervision. But try telling that to parents who were leaving their regressed-adult-son with his younger siblings for a week.

An hour later, Mom and Dad's Uber arrived. There were final hugs, repeated instructions, worried looks.

"Be good for your sisters and brother," Mom said, hugging Ash tight.

"I will."

"Listen to Eden. She's in charge."

"I know."

"And if you need us, we're just a phone call away—"

"Shannon, the plane leaves in three hours," Dad said gently. "He'll be fine. They'll all be fine."

Finally, they left.

The door closed behind them, and suddenly the house felt different. Quieter. Less supervised.

Eden clapped her hands together. "Alright. Ground rules. Noam, you still have to do your homework and go to bed at a reasonable time. But within those parameters, we're going to be a lot more relaxed than Mom and Dad."

"Does that mean I can stay up past nine?" Ash asked hopefully.

"It means if you get your homework done early and you're not a pain in the ass, maybe you can stay up until nine-thirty watching TV with us." Eden smiled. "See? We're the cool siblings."

"The bar is low," Cathy said, but she was smiling too.

The first day was almost normal. Eden made breakfast—well, she put out cereal and milk—and made sure Ash had his backpack ready for school. Cathy drove him, since she was working from home that day and had flexible hours.

"How does it feel?" Cathy asked as they drove. "Having us in charge instead of Mom and Dad?"

Ash shrugged. "Weird. But okay weird."

"We're not going to be as strict, if that's what you're worried about. Eden's pretty laid back." Cathy glanced at him. "But we're also not going to let you run wild. You're still nine."

"I know."

"Good." She pulled up to the school. "Have a good day. I'll pick you up at three."

School was normal—math, reading, recess where he played basketball with Marcus and Tyler. Mrs. Anderson announced they'd be starting a unit on state history next week, which everyone groaned about.

When Cathy picked him up, she had Sophie in the back seat.

"Claire had a doctor's appointment, so Sophie's hanging with us this afternoon," Cathy explained. "Hope that's okay."

"Uncle Noam!" Sophie bounced excitedly in her booster seat. "Can we play when we get home?"

"Sure, Soph."

At the house, Eden was on a work call in the living room—something about graphic design and client revisions. She waved at them but kept talking, gesturing at her laptop screen.

Declan was in the kitchen making a sandwich. "Hey, kid. How was school?"

"Fine."

"Cool." Declan took a huge bite of his sandwich, talking around it. "Eden's cooking dinner tonight. I'm on cleanup duty."

"Where's Dad's rotation schedule?" Cathy asked, looking at the fridge.

"I ate it," Declan said.

"You—what?"

"Kidding. It's right there. But I'm saying, maybe we don't need to follow it exactly? We're adults. We can figure out who cooks when without a color-coded spreadsheet."

"Dad made a spreadsheet?" Cathy pulled it off the fridge, scanning it. "Oh my god, he did. It has our names in different colors and everything."

"Dad's very organized," Ash said.

"Dad's a control freak," Eden corrected, finishing her call and joining them in the kitchen. "But a control freak who's currently in Hawaii, so we're ignoring the spreadsheet. We'll figure it out as we go."

That evening, Cathy made spaghetti—not fancy, but edible. They ate at the kitchen table, the four siblings plus Sophie, talking and laughing in a way that felt different from family dinners with Mom and Dad.

Less formal. More chaotic. Declan told a story about something stupid his roommate had done. Eden complained about a client. Cathy refereed an argument between Ash and Sophie about whose turn it was to choose the TV show.

"You're both watching what I want," Eden declared. "Because I'm in charge and that's how this works."

They ended up watching some design competition show that Eden liked, Sophie falling asleep halfway through with her head on Cathy's lap.

"I should get her home," Cathy said quietly, stroking Sophie's hair. "Claire's probably done with her appointment by now."

After they left, the house got quieter. Declan retreated to the guest room where he was staying, and Eden settled on the couch with her laptop.

"Homework time," she called to Ash. "Kitchen table. Go."

Ash got his backpack and spread out his work. Math worksheet, reading comprehension questions, spelling practice. He worked steadily, aware of Eden glancing over occasionally to make sure he was actually working.

"Done," he announced after thirty minutes.

Eden came over to check. "This is... actually pretty good. Okay, you can have screen time until eight-thirty, then get ready for bed."

"Can I stay up until nine-thirty like you said?"

"That was if you weren't a pain in the ass. Were you a pain in the ass today?"

Ash considered. "No?"

"Correct. Nine-thirty it is. But you still need to get ready for bed at eight-thirty—teeth brushed, pajamas on, all that. Then you can come back down and watch TV with us."

"Deal."

At eight-thirty, Ash went upstairs, brushed his teeth, changed into his pajamas—flannel pants and a t-shirt, the same thing he wore every night. He could hear voices downstairs, Eden and Declan talking.

When he came back down, they were watching a movie—something with explosions and car chases, definitely not Mom-approved content.

"Is this okay for him to watch?" Declan asked as Ash settled on the couch.

"It's PG-13," Eden said. "He's nine. He'll survive seeing a car blow up."

"Mom would not approve."

"Mom's in Hawaii." Eden tossed a throw pillow at Declan. "Stop being such a parent."

They watched the movie, Ash sandwiched between his older—no, younger—siblings on the couch. It was violent and loud and definitely something Mom would have vetoed, but it was also kind of fun. Action-packed, not too complicated to follow, the kind of movie that didn't require much thinking.

At nine-thirty, Eden nudged him. "Alright, bed for real now. School tomorrow."

"Okay." Ash stood, stretched. "Thanks for letting me watch."

"Yeah, well, don't tell Mom." Eden ruffled his hair. "Go on. Brush your teeth again if you need to."

Upstairs, Ash climbed into bed thinking about how different the house felt without Mom and Dad. Not bad different. Just... different.

Less supervised. More relaxed. His siblings treating him more like a person and less like a fragile object that might break.

He fell asleep to the sound of Eden and Declan still talking downstairs, their voices a comfortable murmur through the floor.

The rest of the week developed its own rhythm.

Mornings were chaotic—whoever was on duty scrambling to make sure Ash had breakfast and got to school on time. Cathy was best at this, having it down to a science. Declan was worst, oversleeping twice and making them both late.

"Don't tell Mom," Declan said as Ash rushed into school three minutes after the bell.

"I won't if you don't make me late again."

"Deal."

Evenings varied depending on who was cooking. Cathy made actual meals—balanced, healthy, vegetable-included. Eden ordered takeout more often than not. Declan's idea of dinner was grilled cheese and chips.

"This is not a meal," Eden said, looking at the plate Declan had made.

"It has bread and cheese and tomato soup for dipping. That's three food groups."

"That's not how food groups work."

But they ate it anyway, and Ash had to admit the grilled cheese was pretty good.

On Wednesday evening, Cathy suggested they watch a movie together—all four of them, actual sibling bonding time.

"What are we watching?" Ash asked.

"We're taking votes. Democracy in action."

They ended up watching a superhero movie that everyone could agree on. Partway through, during a slow scene, Eden said, "Can I ask you something?"

Ash looked over. "Sure."

"Is this weird for you? Having us in charge? We're your younger siblings, but also... we remember when you were older than us."

"It's a little weird," Ash admitted. "But it's okay weird."

"You can tell us if we're doing something wrong," Cathy added. "We're kind of making this up as we go."

"You're doing fine," Ash said. "Better than fine. It's nice. You guys treat me more normal than Mom and Dad do."

"Normal how?" Declan asked.

"Like... they're always worried. Always watching to make sure I'm okay, to make sure I'm adjusting, to make sure I'm not secretly miserable." Ash picked at the blanket over his lap. "You guys just treat me like your big—like your brother. You make fun of me and let me watch PG-13 movies and don't overthink everything."

Eden and Cathy exchanged glances.

"We do worry," Eden said quietly. "You're our brother, and what happened to you... that's not nothing. It's huge and complicated and weird."

"But we also know you're still in there," Cathy continued. "Still Ash, or whoever you are now. And treating you like you're made of glass doesn't help anyone."

"So yeah, we're going to make you do your homework and go to bed at a reasonable time," Eden said. "But we're also going to let you be a kid. Even if that kid has an adult brain."

"Thanks," Ash said.

"Don't thank us yet. Declan's cooking tomorrow and he's threatening to make 'breakfast for dinner.'"

"What's wrong with breakfast for dinner?" Declan protested.

"Everything. Everything is wrong with that."

They went back to the movie, but something had shifted. Some acknowledgment that yes, this situation was weird, and no, none of them fully knew how to handle it, but they were all doing their best.

Friday after school, Ash had swim practice. Cathy drove him to the aquatic center, waited in the lobby doing work on her laptop while he practiced.

When he came out, hair still damp and smelling like chlorine, she had coffee from the drive-through place nearby.

"How was practice?"

"Good. Coach Sarah says my freestyle times are improving."

"That's great. Keep it up." Cathy pulled out of the parking lot. "Want to grab dinner? Eden texted that she's working late, and Declan said something about going out with friends."

"So it's just us?"

"Just us. What sounds good?"

They ended up at a diner, sitting in a booth with burgers and fries between them. Cathy asked about school, about swimming, about whether he liked his teacher this year.

Normal aunt-and-nephew conversation. Except Cathy kept looking at him with this expression Ash couldn't quite read.

"What?" he finally asked.

"Nothing. Just..." Cathy picked at her fries. "You seem good. Like, genuinely good. Not just going through the motions."

"I am good. Mostly."

"That's more than I expected, honestly. When this first happened..." Cathy trailed off. "I didn't think you'd ever be okay with it."

"I'm not okay with it," Ash corrected. "I'm just... living it. There's a difference."

"But you're happy sometimes? Like when you're playing baseball or swimming with your team?"

Ash thought about it. "Yeah. Sometimes I forget to be miserable. Sometimes I'm just... nine."

"Is that okay? To be nine sometimes?"

"I don't know if it's okay," Ash said slowly. "But it's real. It happens. And I can either fight it every second or just... let myself be both."

Cathy smiled, but her eyes were sad. "You were always the smart one. Even when you were..." She gestured vaguely. "Even when things were hard."

They finished their burgers mostly in silence, but it was comfortable. Understanding.

Back home, they found Eden on the couch with Thai takeout, some design competition show on TV.

"Where's Declan?" Cathy asked.

"Out. He said not to wait up." Eden held up a container. "Pad thai if you want some."

They settled in together, the three of them, watching terrible TV and eating leftover Thai food.

"Mom and Dad come back Sunday," Eden noted. "We've almost survived a full week."

"Have we though?" Cathy gestured to the living room, which had acquired a layer of clutter—mail on the table, shoes by the door, Ash's backpack dumped in the corner. "This place is kind of a disaster."

"We'll clean tomorrow. Saturday morning, all hands on deck."

"I have baseball," Ash said.

"After baseball then. No arguments."

Saturday morning, Cathy drove Ash to baseball practice at the community center fields. When they got back, Eden had music blasting and cleaning supplies out.

"Alright, team. We have approximately 24 hours before Mom and Dad get home and see what slobs we are. Let's make this place presentable."

They spent the morning cleaning—Ash on vacuum duty, Cathy handling the kitchen, Eden tackling the bathrooms. Declan, who'd stumbled in around 2 AM the night before, was assigned trash duty and threatened with death if he complained.

By early afternoon, the house looked almost normal. Maybe not up to Shannon Walsh standards, but close enough.

"Think they'll notice we used paper plates all week?" Declan asked.

"Absolutely," Eden said. "But they can't prove it if we've thrown out all the evidence."

That evening, their last night of sibling supervision, they ordered pizza and watched another movie. This time, nobody worried about whether it was age-appropriate or if homework was done or if bedtime was being strictly enforced.

They were just siblings hanging out.

Ash, wedged between Eden and Cathy on the couch, pizza grease on his fingers and a movie he'd already seen playing in the background, felt something unexpected.

Contentment.

Not because his parents were gone—he'd be happy to see them tomorrow. But because this week had been different. Had been looser, more relaxed, more normal in some ways.

His younger siblings had treated him like their brother. Not their regressed adult brother, not a project or a problem, just... their brother.

Who needed help with homework and rides to practice and enforcement of bedtime, but also deserved to stay up late watching movies and eat pizza for dinner and be included in sibling conversations.

"You're quiet," Cathy noted.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"About how this week was nice. Different, but nice."

Eden smiled. "Yeah, it was. We should do this more often. Well, maybe not a full week, but like, sibling weekends or something."

"I'd like that," Ash said.

"Me too," Cathy agreed.

Even Declan nodded. "Yeah, it wasn't terrible. Noam's not as annoying as I thought he'd be."

"High praise from Declan," Eden said dryly.

They finished the movie, cleaned up the pizza boxes, and eventually headed to their respective rooms. Tomorrow Mom and Dad would be back, and everything would return to normal.

But tonight, Ash fell asleep thinking about how his siblings—his actual, biological younger siblings who remembered him as their older brother Ash—had spent a week treating him like exactly who he was.

A nine-year-old boy who was also their brother.

Both things. Always both things.

But this week, the "brother" part had felt most real.

"My name is Ash," he whispered to the dark. "I'm thirty-one years old. I'm nine years old. This week my younger siblings took care of me and it was the most normal I've felt in years."

Four thousand, nine hundred and eighty-four days to go.

But for seven days, he'd just been Noam.

Their brother.

And that had been enough.

More than enough.

It had been perfect.