A Few Days Later
Phil hadn't planned to spend most of his afternoon at the mall.
The original mission had been simple enough. Claire was still angry with him because sometime during the previous night, while apparently deep asleep, Phil had mumbled the name of one of his old girlfriends. He didn't remember doing it, which had somehow made everything worse when he tried to explain himself over breakfast.
Claire had stared at him across the kitchen table with the calm expression she usually wore right before saying something terrifyingly reasonable.
Phil had spent the rest of the morning trying to decide what level of apology the situation required.
Flowers seemed too ordinary.
Chocolate felt suspiciously cheap.
That eventually left him with the safest option he could think of, which was buying Claire a new dress and possibly adding a bracelet if the damage still looked severe by dinner.
Unfortunately, the newly opened magic and illusion store happened to sit two floors below the clothing shops.
Phil had noticed the sign while riding the escalator and promised himself he would only look through the window.
That promise lasted less than thirty seconds.
By the time he finally left the store, he had purchased a disappearing-card wallet, two magnetic rings, a packet of smoke capsules, a collapsible wand, and something called the Phantom Coin Matrix that the salesman had described with enough excitement to destroy Phil's remaining self-control.
He carried the magic supplies in one hand while the dress bag and a smaller jewelry-store bag hung from the other.
Phil felt reasonably confident that Claire would appreciate the dress. The bracelet was insurance. The magic equipment was technically unrelated, although he had already started imagining several ways to incorporate the disappearing wallet into future open houses.
He was walking past the food court when he noticed Jack sitting alone near one of the tables.
Jack's eyes were fixed on the condensation running down the side of his cup while his thoughts circled the same problem they had been circling for days. He had already bought the house, and everything was ready for him to move in.
He still hadn't told his parents that he actually planned to live there. He rubbed one thumb against the edge of the table and let out a slow breath without realizing that someone had stopped a few feet away.
Phil slowed down.
There was nothing particularly strange about someone sitting alone and thinking. Jack had probably been doing exactly that for several minutes.
Still, something about his expression caught Phil's attention.
He walked over with the shopping bags shifting against his wrists. "Jack." He called.
Jack didn't respond.
Phil stopped beside the table and tried again, speaking a little louder this time.
"Jack?"
There was still no reaction.
Phil leaned slightly closer and gave him a careful look before calling his name once more.
"Jack, buddy?"
Jack finally blinked and looked up as though he'd only just realized someone was standing beside him. "Oh. Mr. Dunphy. Sorry, I didn't notice you."
Phil smiled lightly, though his attention stayed on Jack's face. "You okay there? You've got that worried look people usually get right before an inspector mentions structural damage."
Jack let out a faint laugh, although it disappeared almost immediately. "No. Actually... I mean, can we talk for a bit? I need to get something off my mind, and I don't really know who else to ask."
Phil's expression changed immediately. He shifted the bags into one hand, pulled out the chair opposite Jack, and sat down without hesitation. "Of course you can talk to me."
Jack glanced toward the pile of shopping bags beside Phil's leg. "Am I interrupting something?"
Phil looked down at the bags and gave a resigned sigh. "Claire's mad at me because I might have said my ex-girlfriend's name in my sleep last night."
Jack stared at him.
"You did what?"
"I don't remember doing it, which turned out to be a terrible defense."
Jack's mouth twitched.
Phil lifted the clothing bag slightly. "So I'm buying her a dress. The bracelet is there in case the dress doesn't lower the temperature enough. FYI, never speak of your ex before your wife or present girlfriend unless you want to sleep on the couch or spend hundreds of dollars on clothes and jewelry and hope she forgives you."
"Thanks for the advice. But Haley is my one and only, like she is the only one I've been with, so I got nothing to worry about," Jack said with a smile. He looked a bit relaxed now.
Phil felt happy that he had eased the tense expression on Jack's face. He leaned his arms on the table.
"So what's going on with you?" Phil asked, giving him his full attention.
Jack rolled the cold cup slowly between his palms. "It's about the house."
Phil's eyebrows lifted. "Please don't tell me you found something wrong with it after I personally dragged you through forty houses to find that place."
Jack finally smiled. "Thirty-nine houses and one trap."
Phil placed a hand against his chest. "That house was not a trap. It was a carefully selected residential opportunity located in a wonderful neighborhood with excellent long-term family proximity."
"You put me three streets away from Haley."
"That's what I meant by family proximity."
Jack laughed quietly and shook his head. They both knew exactly what Phil had been doing when he saved that house for last. Phil had practically admitted it during the sale, then accidentally started talking about future grandchildren before trying to replace the word with gardening.
Jack's smile slowly disappeared. "There's nothing wrong with the house. Honestly, you were right about it. I love the place."
Phil nodded with obvious satisfaction. "I know you do. I saw your face when we finished getting everything settled. You looked like a kid who'd just discovered he owned the toy store."
"That's kind of the problem," Jack replied as his gaze returned to the cup. "Everything's ready now. There's nothing left for me to use as an excuse."
Phil's expression became more thoughtful. He already knew the contractors had finished, because he had been in and out of the house throughout the process. He had helped Jack deal with several pieces of furniture, argued passionately about the placement of one couch, and personally witnessed Jay criticize the original closets until Jack finally let him replace them.
"You mean there's nothing stopping you from moving in," Phil said, studying him carefully.
Jack nodded once. "Except apparently me."
Phil stayed quiet and waited.
Jack took a slow breath before continuing. "Mom and Dad know I bought the place, obviously. Dad thought it was a smart investment, and Mom's already given me opinions about half the furniture. What they don't know is that I'm planning to actually live there."
Phil frowned slightly. "You haven't told them?"
"I keep trying," Jack admitted. "Every time I decide I'm going to say something, I find a reason that particular moment is wrong. Dad looks tired, Mom's busy, dinner feels too nice to turn into some big announcement. Then another day passes, and I'm still sleeping in my old room while owning a completely finished house a few miles away."
Phil watched him for a moment before leaning back. "Are you worried they're going to take it badly?"
"That's what I thought at first." Jack hesitated and rubbed one hand along the back of his neck. "Now I'm not sure that's actually what's bothering me."
Phil nodded slowly. "What do you think is bothering you?"
Jack looked up at him. "What was it like when you moved away from your parents?"
The question caught Phil slightly off guard. His expression changed as he considered it more seriously than Jack had expected.
"At first, I thought it was incredible," Phil said, smiling faintly at the memory. "My own schedule, my own choices, nobody asking why I was awake too late or why I thought cereal counted as dinner. I remember thinking independence was basically adulthood without supervision. And I was in college, so it was pretty cool."
"That sounds like you."
"It was very me," Phil replied before his smile softened. "Then the excitement wore off a little, and there were nights when everything felt quieter than I expected. I'd get home, close the door, and suddenly realize nobody else was there."
Jack's fingers stopped moving against the cup.
Phil noticed immediately.
"I missed hearing my parents around the house," Phil continued. "Even annoying little things become comforting when they're gone. Somebody watching television downstairs, somebody opening cabinets in the kitchen, somebody asking a question you've answered three times already. You spend years thinking you want everyone to leave you alone, then you finally get exactly that and realize complete silence is overrated."
Jack stared toward the food court for several seconds before speaking again. "That's what I'm afraid of."
Phil's joking expression disappeared completely.
Jack leaned back and looked almost embarrassed by the admission. "It sounds stupid because I spend months away from home sometimes. I stay in hotels, I travel constantly, and I've been handling myself on sets since I was a kid. Somehow moving into my own house feels completely different."
"It is different," Phil replied gently. "Hotels are temporary. You always know you're going home eventually."
Jack nodded slowly. "When I was younger, home used to be empty all the time. Mom and Dad were constantly working, and I hated coming back to that house because nobody was ever there. Then everything changed over the last few years. They started coming home more, we started eating together, and suddenly the house felt like somewhere I actually wanted to return to."
He paused and swallowed before continuing.
"Now every time I imagine moving out, part of me keeps wondering whether I'm voluntarily going back to that same feeling. I'll finish filming, drive home late, open the door, and there won't be anybody inside."
Phil looked at him for a long moment before asking quietly, "Are you also worried about what happens to your parents after you leave?"
Jack nodded. "Yeah. I keep thinking maybe Dad starts staying at work later because I'm not coming home for dinner. Maybe Mom starts traveling more again. I know that sounds like I think I'm somehow holding their marriage together, and logically I know that isn't true."
"The fear doesn't care much about logic," Phil said.
Jack looked back at him.
Phil leaned forward slightly. "Buddy, I think you're worried about your parents, because you love them and you remember what happened before. But I also think worrying about them is easier than saying you're scared to live alone."
Jack opened his mouth to answer, then stopped.
Phil gave him a small, sympathetic smile. "That face usually means I accidentally said something smart."
Jack let out a quiet laugh and looked away. "Maybe you did."
"You know what moving out actually changes?" Phil asked while lightly tapping the table. "Your address. That's the biggest guaranteed change. Everything else depends on what you do afterward."
Jack listened.
"You can have your own house and still show up at your parents' place for dinner whenever you want. Your dad can come over and pretend he has a business reason for visiting. Your mom can walk through the place and quietly rearrange something you thought was perfectly fine. And since I very carefully sold you a house nearby for completely innocent real-estate reasons, you're also going to have the Dunphys showing up far more often than any reasonable homeowner would expect."
Jack smiled again. "There it is."
Phil shrugged without shame. "Close families stay close. I stand by my strategy."
The smile lingered on Jack's face before he became thoughtful again.
Phil reached across the table and squeezed his shoulder. "Talk to your parents properly. And don't do that thing you do where you walk in with a whole speech prepared and somehow make it sound like you're announcing quarterly earnings."
Jack gave him a look. "I don't do that."
"You absolutely do that," Phil said. "Just tell them you want to move into the house, you're excited about it, and you're also a little scared. Parents like hearing that stuff. Well, we don't like hearing our kids are scared, obviously. That came out wrong. We like knowing you still need us sometimes... all the times."
Jack looked down at his cup, a small smile pulling at his mouth.
Phil leaned back and thought about it for a second. "Moving out isn't really leaving home anyway. It's more like... adding another home."
Jack looked up at him.
Phil's face brightened as the thought came together. "Yeah, exactly. You're expanding. Like Starbucks, except instead of coffee, it's family."
Jack stared at him for a moment. "You almost had something really good there."
"I still think I nailed it."
Jack laughed and shook his head, although the tension that had been sitting on his face for most of the afternoon was finally beginning to disappear. "Yeah. I think that's what I needed to hear."
Phil smiled warmly and picked up his shopping bags. "Good, because I should probably get this dress home before Claire assumes I ran away with another ex-girlfriend."
Jack glanced at the jewelry bag. "You really think the bracelet is necessary?"
Phil stood and considered the question with grave seriousness. "Jack, when your wife hears another woman's name coming out of your mouth while you're asleep, necessity becomes a very flexible financial concept."
...
That night...
Jack's mom called him for dinner. He took a deep breath. "Alright, it's time."
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