Chapter Fifteen
By Friday afternoon, the house had been humming for hours, full of the pent-up energy that came from five children being stuck indoors while rain hammered against the windows.William had been cleaning the oven — a job he’d been putting off all week — when Ethan’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it, then at William.
“Christopher sent a reminder,” Ethan said, thumb still resting on the screen. “Youth group starts at seven. He said… I can come if I want.”
No pressure. Just an open door.
William dried his hands on a tea towel. “We’ll have tea early, then. Pizza?”
Five heads lifted at once, every child instantly sold on the idea.
The pizza arrived just after six, and they ate together at the kitchen table — slices disappearing fast, Jake talking with his mouth full, Ollie trying to steal extra pepperoni, Mia insisting on napkins, Sophie leaning her shoulder against William’s arm.
Ethan ate slowly, but he stayed with them, part of the circle.
When the last slice was gone, William reached for his keys.
“Ready?” he asked, keeping his voice steady and calm.
Ethan hesitated only a moment, then nodded. “Yeah.”
The drive to the church hall was quiet in the way that meant everyone was thinking.
When Ethan stepped out of the car, he kept his hood down, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the warm spill of light ahead.
At the door, he paused — just for a heartbeat — then walked inside with a determined set to his shoulders.
William watched him go, breath held for a moment. Then he turned to the others.
“Let’s pray for Ethan.”
Four small voices joined his, soft and earnest.
Back at the house, the younger children drifted toward the kitchen as though pulled by the same thought.
“Can we bake now?” Mia asked, already tying her apron.
“For Ethan’s birthday,” Sophie said, holding a wooden spoon as though it mattered.
Jake dragged a chair to the counter. Ollie hovered with his football tucked under his arm.
William smiled. “All right. Cakes it is.”
He stayed with them while they worked — Mia and Sophie mixing batter with practised confidence.
They gave Jake a small bowl, which he stirred with the seriousness of a tiny scientist. Ollie had abandoned his campaign to crack an egg.
William slid the trays into the oven himself, keeping a close eye while the warm smell of vanilla filled the room.
When the cakes came out, they cooled on the rack while the children hovered like impatient birds.
“Can we ice them now?” Jake asked, already reaching.
“They’re still hot,” Mia said, sounding exactly like Jean. “The icing will melt.”
William hid a smile and helped Sophie set out plates while the cakes cooled. When Mia finally declared them ready, the icing began — careful spirals from Sophie, enthusiastic blobs from Jake, and Ollie trying to sneak extra sprinkles whenever he thought no one was looking.
By the time the cakes were finished, the kitchen looked as though a baking tornado had passed through. Jake sat slumped at the table, blinking slowly at the mess. Ollie was still buzzing with energy. Mia stacked bowls in the sink. Sophie wiped down the counter with small, deliberate strokes.
William glanced at the clock. Time to go.
“Right,” he said, lifting Jake from his chair. “Everyone grab your coats. We’re going to pick up your brother.”
Jake mumbled something unintelligible and tucked his head under William’s chin.
Sophie grabbed her jacket and held the door open, while Ollie and Mia raced each other to the car.
The night air was cool and smelled faintly of the sea.
William strapped Jake into his booster seat, the boy’s eyes already drooping shut again.
“Do you think he’ll be happy?” Sophie asked as she climbed in beside Jake, her voice small in the dark.
William paused, hand on the car door. “I don’t know,” he said. “But he’s stayed. That’s something.”
The drive to the church hall took less than ten minutes, but the car felt unusually full — not with noise, but with anticipation. Even Ollie, who had been vibrating with energy moments earlier, had gone still.
As they pulled into the car park, the hall doors opened and a spill of warm light and laughter poured out. Teenagers drifted into the night in clusters, some still humming the last song. William’s heart thudded. Then he saw him.
Ethan stepped into the doorway, hood down, hands in his pockets. He wasn’t smiling — not exactly — but his face was open in a way William hadn’t seen for a long time. Simon walked beside him, talking animatedly, and Ethan nodded along.
Christopher followed them out, keys in hand, locking up the hall. He spotted William and gave a warm, easy smile before calling over to Ethan.
“Good job tonight,” he said. “Simon said you picked things up fast.”
Ethan’s cheeks coloured — not with embarrassment, but with something close to pride.
Christopher stepped closer, hands in his pockets. “If you want to help on Sunday morning, you’re welcome. We’re doing the sound for the service, and Simon could use another pair of hands.”
He didn’t push. He simply offered.
“No pressure,” Christopher added. “Just if you fancy it.”
Simon nudged Ethan lightly. “It’s fun. And you were good.”
Christopher headed off to finish locking up, and Simon jogged to catch up with the others. Ethan opened the passenger door and slid in, pulling the seatbelt across his chest.
“Hey,” William said.
“Hey,” Ethan replied. His voice was steady. Present.
“How was it?” Mia asked from the back.
Ethan shrugged, but there was a spark in his eyes. “Good. Loud. But good. Simon showed me the sound desk. It’s really cool.”
“Did you really make the sounds go through the speakers?” Ollie demanded.
Ethan huffed a tiny laugh. “Yeah. It wasn’t that bad.”
William started the engine, letting the moment settle. “Sounds like you had a good night.”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “It was good.”
The quiet in the car wasn’t heavy anymore. It was full.
When they pulled into the driveway, Jake stirred awake, blinking blearily at his big brother.
“Efan?” he murmured.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Ethan said, leaning closer so Jake could see him.
Jake smiled, then promptly fell asleep again.
Inside, the house still smelled faintly of warm cake and melted cheese. The kitchen was a mess, but a happy one. Ethan paused in the doorway, taking it all in — the empty pizza boxes, the crumbs on the counter, the half-washed bowls.
“Saved you a cake,” Mia said, nudging a plate toward him.
Ethan took it without hesitation. William watched him — the way he stood a little straighter, the way the tension in his shoulders had eased, the way he didn’t immediately retreat upstairs.
Something had shifted tonight. Not everything. Not magically. But something.
And for the first time since the move, William let himself believe that maybe — just maybe — they were going to be all right.