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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Dark · #1746773
The untold story of Family Ties' Steven Keaton's downfall.
Part One



“Intervention”



The fire burned low in the fireplace, creating a cozy feel in the otherwise cold, tension filled family room. Steven sat on the rocking chair close to the fireplace, slightly rocking back and forth. His head was fixed upon the fire, unmoving. One hand gripped his leg, while the other massaged his beard. Elyse, his successful wife of twenty-five years, sat on the edge of the nearby couch, her head down, her hand holding a glass of wine, her thumb nervously traveling in endless circles around the lip of the glass. His son Alex, sat furthest away, in a small cushioned chair, in the far corner of the room. He sat silent, with one leg crossed over the other, staring at his father. Mallory, his eldest daughter, sat next to her mother on the couch, a box of tissue upon her lap, her eyes red with strain and worry. His daughter Jennifer, sat in between her mother and older sister, on the floor, her back resting upon the couch. Her face was a mix of confusion and fear. Her bottom lip was beginning to swell, for her upper teeth were applying much to much pressure upon it. Elyse raised her head, and looked at Steven briefly. She turned her gaze to her wine glass, swirled the contents, and swallowed what would normally have been at least three or four decent sips. A small trickle of the Burgundy swam down her chin, dripping into her lap before she was able to stop the flow with her free hand. She inhaled a large breath, and let it out slowly. She blinked twice, long, deliberate. Elyse turned back to her husband.

“Steven, we are concerned about you, that is all.” All eyes in the room shifted toward Steven, hoping to see some kind of reaction, some kind of recognition to the statement. They did not get what they wanted, for Steven did not react. He continued to slowly rock back and forth, never taking his eyes from the fire.

“Steven, please look at me,” asked Elyse. When it appeared that Steve would ignore the request, he at last turned his head, and smiled at his wife.

“Thank you Steve. You know we all love you, Steven. We are concerned about you, honey. We have all expressed our concern over the last couple of months, and it just seemed we weren’t getting anywhere. I called this family meeting Steven, and I know that in the past you had waved off any such meeting as ridiculous and unneeded, but Steven, honey, I feel, we all feel, that we have to have some answers, at the very least some kind of dialogue, communication, understanding.” Steven, eyes closed, a smile upon his lips, nodded his head throughout. When Elyse finished, Steven lowered his head, and raised his arms forward, palms open. In this same position he spoke, “Understood. Absolutely, understood.” He raised his head and placed his hands in his lap, and said, “Let’s talk, then.”

Elyse, somewhat relieved, inched back into the couch, and rested her back. Silence overtook the room for many uncomfortable moments. Steven sat smiling, shifting his gaze to all four of his family members, pausing on each, first his wife, then his youngest daughter Jennifer, then Mallory, finally upon Alex, for an awkward amount of time. The room remained silent. Finally Elyse blurted, “I don’t know where to start! I don’t know how to start!” Alex, popped out of his chair and half jogged to the center of the room. “I’ll tell you what. I propose we all have a chance to speak, or make a statement. I would suggest each statement be as brief and to the point as possible. In each statement, we all should include how we feel, why we feel the way we do, and that’s it. No questions at this point, OK? We’ll leave that for later. We simply voice our concerns and feelings, one at a time. And then, Dad, when we are finished, we would ask of you a reply, or a statement of your own.” Alex was rather animated, moving about while speaking. He stopped and looked at his sisters and mother, “And obviously, this is an emotional matter. I would ask that we can all agree though, to make this matter of fact as possible. Let’s simply look at this as a fact finding mission. And also, let me remind all of us here, that while emotions run high, let us in our statements be compassionate and respectful. Can we all agree on this?” Steven beamed at his son. “I think that is a great idea, son. Well done.” Alex smiled and nodded his head, and turned toward the rest of his family. Each looked at each other for confirmation, and all either nodded or murmured in agreement. “OK,” said Alex, “why don’t we start with you Mom. Remember to try to keep it brief.”

“Thank you Alex,” said Elyse, “I agree with your father, that this is a great idea.” Alex smiled upon his mother, and walked over to his chair, dragging it closer to the middle of the room before settling in. Elyse began, and then her voice cracked, causing her words to stumble. She drew in a quick breath, and with a slightly higher than normal voice, began.

“First of all, I would just like to say, how much I love you Steven. I would like to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, how happy you have made me. We have had a wonderful twenty years of partnership. You have blessed me with four beautiful, intelligent, truly special and outstanding children.” Elyse turned to each of her children, smiling. Mallory reached out and squeezed her mothers hand. “I have had a blessed life. You have cared for me, respected me, and treated me as if I were a princess. We have gone through hard times and good times, and we have always come out on top, never getting too down, and never getting too high, I mean, you know what I mean.”

“But you guys did attend Woodstock, correct?” deadpanned Alex. For a short minute, the family room was warm again with laughter. “I’m sorry,” Alex confessed, “but that was just too easy. New rule. No interruptions.” Elyse smiled at her son. She looked at her daughters as well, her voice rising again, cracking, “I’m so glad you are all here. I love you.” Mallory reached into the box of tissue, and handed her mother a sheet. Elyse dabbed her eyes and wiped her nose. “I’m sorry. Like Alex said, I’ll try to keep my emotions in check. I suppose, I am most concerned Steven, that over our twenty, really thirty years of knowing each other, you did not confide in me, rather, you did not discuss or explain or even ask me what I thought about your decision. I guess that was what really scared me Steven. It was as if I didn’t count, or that I did not exist, or that I didn’t really matter. It was a monumental decision when you decided to abruptly quit as station manager. And then, with the basement, honey. Again, without even consulting me, without even asking me. We spent a lot of hard earned money finishing the downstairs, Steven. To convert it to, to turn it into some kind of farm?”

The telephone began to ring.

“Oh,” Elyse said, “just let it ring. The machine will pick it up.” Steven bolted up, the first time in hours showing that he still could maneuver. “No, it’ll take but a second. That’s Billy, he said he would call.” Steve walked over to the end table near the couch, where the cordless telephone blinked and beeped. He picked up the receiver, pushed a button, held it to his ear saying, “Hello? Hey, Billy, how are you?” A few seconds passed before he said, “Sure. Sure thing. Two dozen? No problem. I’ll leave them in the outside fridge by the garage. And, and, no charge this time. I’ve been working on a new breed this time. I think you’ll be impressed with these wrigglers. Where are you guys going?” Again, there was a small pause before he spoke again. “Well, good luck. I was out there last night, and scored fairly well. Texas-rig or Carolina-rig them, don’t use a bullet weight so they sink slowly. Yeah. Uh-huh, yep, that’s right. These crawlers are even bigger, so don’t be intimidated by their size. Use a number two hook, maybe even bigger. You want to make sure that the hook harness is large enough, otherwise they’ll squirm right off. Yeah, OK Billy, sounds good. Let me know how they work out. Sure. I hear you. Good luck.” Steven took the phone away from his ear, pressed a button, 'beep', and placed the phone back on it’s plastic pedestal. Concerned eyes looked his way.
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