Tiny Dancer

One Small Piece to Hold

It had been a few quiet weeks. Quiet in that way things feel right before you realize you've been holding your breath.

Ella had been going to therapy, doing her best to eat full meals again, and sometimes even laughing at sitcom reruns with Eric. But not everything was fixed. Not even close. Still, tonight was supposed to be about Red.

Red's last day at the plant had come and gone, but the weight of it hung in the air. When he didn't come home by dinner, Kitty sent Ella and Eric to track him down. Of course, Steven insisted on coming too.

Now, the three of them stood outside Casey's Tap, the neon sign buzzing overhead like it knew secrets.

"Should we be surprised this is where he ended up?" Eric muttered, staring at the cracked brick.

Ella sighed. "It smells like beer, heartbreak, and some kind of...old man sadness."

Hyde cracked a small grin. "Yeah. Sounds like Red's kinda place."

Inside, Red was holding court at the bar, laughing louder than they'd ever heard him. A few empty mugs lined the counter, and he was in the middle of some story involving forklift races and a guy named Phil crashing into a vending machine.

"Dad," Eric called, walking up beside him. "Come on. Time to go."

Red turned slowly, blinking at them. "My favorite dumbasses."

"Great, he's drunk and sentimental," Hyde muttered.

Red pointed a finger at him. "You. Mop-top. You still living under my roof?"

"Yup," Hyde said. "And using your shampoo."

Red barked out a laugh and threw an arm around his shoulder. "Fine. You can stay."

Ella chuckled and helped Eric guide Red to an empty booth in the corner. Once seated, Red seemed to deflate. Not in a sad way, just... tired. Like the fight had gone out of him, and he didn't know what came next.

"Didn't think it'd hit me this hard," he mumbled. "You give thirty years to a place, and they hand you a cake and a pink slip."

Eric sat beside him. "You're more than that job, Dad."

Red looked at him, like really looked. "I hope so, son."

There was a moment of quiet. Then Red muttered, "Your mom made meatloaf for dinner. I missed meatloaf?"

Ella offered a sad smile. "We saved you a plate."

Hyde leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms. "This retirement thing's gonna be a journey, huh?"

"Shut up," Red said, but there was no real bite.

Ella picked at the edge of a napkin. "How are you really, Dad?"

Red was silent for a beat. Then: "I hate that my mom's gone. I hate that my brother's coming to town. And I hate that I can't protect you kids from everything, even when I want to."

Ella's throat tightened. "You're not supposed to protect us from everything. Just... be there when it falls apart."

He nodded slowly. "Guess I can do that."

They all sat for a while. It was the kind of night where no one rushed to fill the silence. Hyde shifted beside Ella, and she leaned her shoulder against his for just a second. Long enough for him to feel it, short enough to deny it later.

"I've been trying," Hyde said softly.

"I know," she replied. "So have I."

"You're doing better," he said. "You're smiling more."