Father's Day

It had been a morning like any other. She got up, made herself a cup of coffee, opened her phone to rifle through Facebook posts and sat quietly in her chair while the rest of the family was waking up. Her oldest son was on the computer her husband still snoring in the bed. After an hour he was up and stumbled for coffee himself. She got up, followed him to the kitchen and getting a peck on the cheek.
"Good morning dear, happy Father's Day."
"Oh, is it? Well thank you."
"What would you like to do today?"
He thought about it for a moment and realized that there was nothing he could think of that he wanted to do. "Nothing. I think today I want to do nothing." He took a sip from his coffee and started loading the dishwasher. She eyed him with a sideways smile then set about gathering dirty laundry.
"I suppose we'll just do housework then." She mumbled to herself.

It was nearing eleven o'clock before anyone asked about the younger of the two boys.
"How late was your brother up last night?" Father asked.
"Huh? Oh I don't know. I was in bed shortly after you and he was still up."
"Well go wake his ass up. No sense wasting the whole day."
"Simon," his wife chimed in "leave him be. He got a little sunburn yesterday and he probably just needs the rest."
"Fine but at noon sunburn or not he's getting up."
"Okay"

An hour later and still no sign of the youngest son. Simon looked at the older boy and nodded for him to go get his little brother up. The panic in his voice was palpable. It hung in the air long enough that you could feel the sound as much as hear it.
"Dad! Dad!" Both parents jumped and ran to see what was wrong.
"He's..he's cold" tears were starting to well up in his eyes.
"What?" Dad said. The young boy's mother rushed to the bed and upon touching her son began to wail.
"No! No no no no no! Jacob no!!" Her words slurred together overrun with anguish and tears. Simon stood silent, frozen with disbelief.
"I don't understand." He stammered. "He's thirteen."

The police came and then the coroner. His wife cried and clung to his side. The EMTs loaded the thin little body onto a stretcher then into the ambulance for transport. Simon didn't say a word. He watched it all unfold from somewhere outside himself. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real. The sun set over the tiny house. His wife and son cuddled together for comfort. It was Father's Day. The father found himself in the bathroom splashing water on his face. He dug through the closet for a picture of Jacob in his youth football uniform. He stared into his son's proud eyes, put the revolver under his chin and pulled the trigger.