Chapter Text
Mike awoke to the feeling of a kiss being placed on his cheek. Will.
“Mike!”
A woman’s voice. Right. Just a dream.
“Mike, your phone has been ringing.”
Mike sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, mindlessly reaching for his cellphone on the bedside table. He was met with Lucas’ face lighting up the screen.
The two weren’t nearly as close as they once were, merely sending a text here or there nowadays, but rarely were there calls. They were much too busy. Or at least that’s what Mike would tell himself. Which was what made this call fairly unusual.
“Hey, man… everything okay?” He could barely suppress a yawn.
“Mike. No, uh…” Lucas paused upon hearing Mike’s yawn. “Did I wake you?”
The man shook his head as if Lucas could see him at the moment. He was long past the “Friends Don’t Lie” bullshit. A sentiment he believed died the day El did.
“Will called me…” Mike could hear a sharp intake of breath on the line. “Joyce passed away last night.”
That certainly wasn’t news he expected to wake up to. He hadn’t seen the woman in years, but that didn’t ease the sting in his chest any. Growing up, Joyce felt like more of a mother than his own had at times.
“Oh, God…” Mike’s head was already running a mile a minute. “Is there going to be a funeral?”
“Yeah, that’s why I was calling. The funeral is going to be next week. I think Will needs as much support as he can get right now.”
He could barely restrain a scoff. Will needing him? That hadn’t been the case since they were teenagers.
“Yeah, yeah. Send me the details. I’ll be there.” With that, he hung up the call. He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries at the moment.
Mike’s wife approached him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He had already forgotten of her presence in the room. Just as quickly as her touch was on him, he had brushed it off.
“You alright?”
He saw the dejected look, one he had placed on his wife’s face too many times to count. It was an expression that no longer made him feel any guilt.
“I’m fine, Shannon. An old friend just passed.”
He tuned out the concern that followed. She didn’t care, not really. They were merely words she had thought he wanted or needed to hear. Oftentimes he believed the two were just going through the motions of being husband and wife.
What a perfect nuclear family they were.
“Where is the funeral?”
Mike sighed, knowing the questioning was coming. "Montauk.”
“That’s a bit far, isn’t it?”
Mike pursed his lips.
“Does that matter?”
That seemed to shut her up. He didn’t want to fight, but the irritation he held within had a way of bubbling to the surface more often than not.
He had no intention to continue their conversation, so he simply laid back down and closed his eyes. He needed some time to process the news. Alone.
“Dad!”
Mike sighed and turned towards his teenage daughter.
“Yeah, did you need something?”
“I need to know why you’re leaving me with Mom and Elliot for a week so you can go on vacation in Montauk!”
Mike let out an even more exasperated sigh and narrowed his eyes at her.
“Willow. It’s not a vacation, Joy— an old friend passed away.”
She gave him a pointed look.
“Yet you’re spending a week out there! That’s not fair.”
Was he this bad as a teenager? Was this punishment? Some karmic retribution?
“Because it’s far away. I’m not going to drive all the way out there just to come back the next day.”
“Whatever, Dad.” She did her best attempt at puppy dog eyes, “Take me with you, please?”
Mike stared at his daughter for a moment, contemplating.
“Fine…”
An excruciatingly long drive later, Mike could finally see the “Welcome to Montauk” sign up ahead.
For most people, it was likely a relief to see this sign. But for Mike, it was the equivalent of a “Welcome to Hell” sign stylized in big, bold letters.
Luckily for him though, most of the drive was spent with Willow plugged into her phone and Mike listening to whatever music the radio host willed.
That was until he heard a particular song his daughter seemed keen on singing very loudly.
“And when you think about me all of those years ago…”
Suddenly Mike wasn’t so interested in the radio anymore.
Willow looked over to him as the song ended, hoping she’d successfully infuriated him, but instead he just looked… sad.
The Wheelers weren’t exactly a family to express feelings. Nevertheless, discuss them. Still, she couldn’t help but say something.
“Dad?”
That seemed to pull Mike out of his thoughts.
“Hm?”
“Uh, are you okay?”
He spared a glance her way. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know, because your face is all pinched and more wrinkly than usual.”
This took Mike out of the melancholy he was feeling.
“Wrinkly!?” I’m certainly not—“ The impulse to stop and glare at his daughter was strong.
“Yeah, you kind of are. It’s all the years of scowling at people.”
Mike caught himself before he could do anything too drastic. He scoffed and trained his eyes on the road instead of glaring at Willow. The last thing he needed right now was to crash his car.
Soon after, they were approaching the hotel Mike had hastily booked for the two of them when he had found out the news.
“Come on, Willow. We’re here.”
He heard a groan but no further protest as she exited the car and went to the trunk for her bag.
As Mike waited for the clerk to check them in, he shot a text to Lucas informing him they had arrived.
15 minutes later, the Sinclairs were getting out of their car and approaching Mike outside of the hotel as Willow remained within their room.
“Lucas, hey. Max.” He nodded.
Lucas gave Mike a pat on the back as Max eyed Mike up and down.
“Looking rough there, Wheeler! How’s the wife doing?” She smirked and lifted her brow slightly as she spoke. "I would rather have her company than yours, you know."
Lucas put a hand on the small of his wife’s back. “Max, be nice.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not my fault he looks like the Grinch with glasses, and he’s a bore.”
He reddened with humiliation. "Shut up, I—”
“Don’t listen to her, Mike. You look better than most people our age, and you’re plenty of fun.”
Mike was grateful for Lucas’ words, even if they were lies, but still, he couldn’t help but ask, “Better than Will?”
That was met with silence and a stifled snicker from Max.
“Okay, okay. I set myself up with that one, I guess.”
Mike, Lucas, and Max decided to visit a bar after Mike ensured Willow would be in bed for the night.
Much to Mike’s gratitude, there was no more mention of Shannon from either Lucas or Max. In fact, the topics of conversation had been going fairly smoothly until their kids were brought up.
“Charlie is doing really good! They’re in college now. Second year.” The man was practically beaming as he spoke.
It’s nice to know that at least Lucas was a proud father.
“Nice.” He took a sip of his vodka cranberry. “What does she major in again?"
Max chimed in without missing a beat.
“They.”
“Huh? Do you have another kid?”
“No, dipshit. Charlie is nonbinary.”
Now Mike was really confused.
“What’s that?”
Max sighed and exchanged a look with Lucas.
“It means they’re neither a girl nor a boy. Nonbinary. Charlie doesn’t use “she” or “her” pronouns.” She leaned in. “You know what pronouns are, right, Mike?”
Mike blanched at her words.
“Of course I know what pronouns are! I used to write like every day, for God’s sake.”
“Okay, because you sure weren’t acting like it.”
“Sorry… I’m not hip or whatever like you two.” He absentmindedly waved his hand around as he spoke.
Lucas laughed, feeling a bit of sympathy for his friend. “It’s okay, man. Just try to use they/them pronouns going forward, okay?”
Mike sipped his drink once more and muttered, “Yeah.”
Lucas, ever the mediator, tried to ease the tension budding in the air.
“Anyway, Mike… How are your kids? Enough about ours. You don’t talk about them much.”
Mike put his drink down and sighed. What did he have to say about them? They were fine. A major pain in his ass, but fine nonetheless.
“Uh, well. They’re fine. Elliot is 17, so he’s a senior. Willow is 14, 15 soon enough. She’s still a freshman.”
“Okay…” She drew out the word as if suspicious of Mike. “Anything else?”
“Willow likes to draw… I think?”
Max couldn’t help herself from chiming in.
“You think? Do you know shit about your kids?”
Mike was silent. Did he? Probably not as much as he’d like. He didn’t try to be an absent father. He wasn’t Ted after all. He just swore his kids hated him. Whenever he did try, they always seemed to push him away.
“They don’t tell me much.” He plays it off with a humorless laugh. “Teenagers, y’know?”
Max and Lucas exchanged a knowing look. Mike swore they had some sort of telepathy going on. He couldn’t tell if they were currently feeling sorry for him or being judgmental.
Lucas was the one to speak up first, shooting Max a look as he saw her mouth open. “Yeah. Teenagers.”
Mike found he didn’t have much of a social battery after that. He just wanted to go back to the hotel and wallow in his misery.
Not only was he unhappy because someone who was an important part of his upbringing passed away, but being around Lucas and Max made him realize how miserable his life had become.
The two looked so happy together, the joy basically radiating off of them. All of their shared glances, subtle touches, a language no one in the world understood but them. He didn't have that. Not anymore, at least.
He soon said his goodbyes and made his way back to his hotel room. He needed his rest.
Tomorrow he’d see Will for the first time in over a decade.