**The Awkward Age**
Because they saw parenting so differently, Diana and Arthur divorced. Each blamed the other in their own way.
*»Arthur never took responsibility for anythingI had to handle everything myself from the day Alfie was born,»* Diana would explain.
*»My ex-wife never knew how to relaxeverything had to be under her control. She drowned in unnecessary tasks and made herself miserable,»* her former husband would say.
Alfie was fourteen now, living with his mother, seeing his father once a weekweekends and Wednesdays after football practice. Though Diana and Arthur had split nearly eleven years ago, neither had remarried. Arthur lived alone in his late mothers flatshe had passed seven years ago from illness.
Weekends with his father were Alfies escape, especially this past year. Not that Diana ever truly restedshe still worried. Arthur, in her eyes, was hopelessly irresponsible.
*»Jokes and laughterthats his thing. Funs always been his element. But a serious, stable relationship? Impossible. When it was just us, everything was fine. Then Alfie came along, and everything changed.»*
With a baby, Arthur barely lifted a finger. No help, no care, dodging chores while Diana shouldered it all. She embraced motherhood instantly; he never quite grasped fatherhood. The grievances piled up until they parted ways.
That was Dianas version. Arthur had his own.
*»We just didnt understand each other. I used to think having a child would be wonderfulshowing him the world, teaching him things. But Diana turned parenting into a minefield of rules and panic. She was terrified of germs, illnesses, anything that might harm Alfie. I even started hesitating to hold him. And when I did help, it was never good enough. Eventually, I stopped trying.»*
*»Arthur, we should divorce,»* Diana announced one day. To his own surprise, he felt only relief.
So they split amicably, agreeing Arthur would still see Alfie.
*»Whats the point arguing with someone who wont listen? Shes always right,»* he thought.
Eleven years later, Arthur hadnt remarriedonce was enough. Professionally, though, he thrived. Ironically, his success came from *fun*he designed video games, and it paid handsomely.
Diana finished tidying the kitchen and headed upstairs.
*»Alfie left the bathroom light on again. Scatterbrained, just like his father.»* She ignored the *»Do Not Enter»* sign on his door and pushed it open.
Same scene as always: Alfie glued to his PC, not even glancing up.
*»Youre not a child anymoreturn the lights off yourself.»*
*»Yeah, yeah.»*
*»Half an hour more, then homework. Youve got a test tomorrow.»*
When she returned, he hadnt moved. She snapped at him to switch off the game. Alfie rolled his eyes, muttered under his breath, and grabbed his history textbook.
As she chopped vegetables for tomorrows soup, Diana sighed.
*»How long will this phase last? A year and a half ago, he changed overnightimpossible to manage. Typical teenager, I suppose. But if this drags on, Ill lose my mind.»*
On Saturday, Arthur arrived to pick up Alfie.
*»Dad! Finally!»* Alfie bolted from his room.
*»Did you pack your books?»* Diana demanded.
*»Oh, come *on*, Mum»* Grumbling, he grabbed his backpack and followed Arthur out, barely waving goodbye.
*»Arthur, help him with mathshis marks are terrible. And dont just feed him pizza!»* The door slammed before he could reply.
In the car, father and son grinned.
*»Whats the plan?»* Arthur asked.
*»Cinema, then the parkand pizza first!»* They burst out laughing.
Now that Alfie was older, Arthur had found a way to connect. Friendship didnt happen by itselfit needed shared time, common interests, easy conversations without lectures.
*»Hows school?»*
*»Fine, Dad. Ive got it.»*
*»Course you do. But if youre stuck, well figure it out.»*
*»Nah, its just my history teachershes got it in for me. The only decent ones the PE coach…»*
After they left, Diana thought bitterly:
*»Of course hes happy. Arthur only reconnected once Alfie was old enough to be fun. The hard parthomework, discipline, cookingthats *my* job. He just gets to be the cool dad.»*
Sunday evening, Arthur dropped Alfie home.
*»Brilliant weekend. Go on in.»*
*»Cheers, Dadbest ever!»*
Monday brought a parent-teacher meeting. Dianas stomach twisted as the tutor slid Alfies report across the table. A few Bs, an A in PEthe rest Cs and Ds.
*»Thats ithes done for,»* she fumed, barely hearing the teachers words.
*»Alfies at risk of failing history and maths. Hes bright, just lazyand he games during lessons…»*
Shame burned through her. On the walk home, she seethed.
*»No more laptop until those grades improve. But how? The terms nearly over»*
She stormed into his room, snapped the laptop shut, and marched out with it.
*»No games till summer. Fix your grades. Have you no shame?»*
*»Mum, relaxyoure overreacting,»* Alfie said, echoing his fathers tone.
Dianas anger spiralled until*slam*Alfie bolted. She grabbed her phone.
*»ArthurAlfies run off! Probably to you!»*
*»Calm down. Well sort it.»*
At Arthurs door, Alfie blurted, *»Dad, I want to live with you.»*
*»I want that too, mate. But your mum wont allow itnot yet.»*
*»Dont make me go back. *Please*. Ill fix my grades.»*
*»Alright, stay here. Ill talk to her.»*
To his shock, Diana barely resisted. Quiet, defeatedshe agreed faster than hed expected.
Next morning, Arthur shook Alfie awake.
*»Up, lad. Breakfast, then school.»* Ten minutes later, Alfie was still dead asleep.
They scarfed toast, Arthur packed sandwiches, and they raced out.
*»Bed by ten tonightdeal?»* Alfie nodded.
The week flew bytakeaways, laughs, easy chatter. Then Arthur got a call: Alfie hadnt been to school.
*»Dont worry, Dadsupply teachers rubbish,»* Alfie lied. Repeatedly.
Diana erupted when the school phoned.
*»Your son skips class! Hes *failing*!»* She screamed into the phone. *»Im taking him homenow!»*
Barging into Arthurs flat, she gasped, *»Youweour son»*
Alfie fled before the storm hit.
*»Hes skipping school! Failed two subjects!»*
As Arthur calmed her, his own trust crumbled. Then Dianas mother called.
*»Alfies here. Says he cant live with you anymore.»*
Relief washed over Diana. *»Hes safeat Mums.»*
*»Dont cry,»* Arthur murmured, rubbing her shoulder. *»We need a plan. Hell run againI did the same at his age. Bans wont work. Whens your holiday?»*
They went campingtents, backpacks, textbooks in tow. Diana drilled history; Arthur tackled maths. The trip was magic.
Now, outside school, they waited nervously. Alfie burst out, waving his results.
*»Passed! *Both*!»*
*»Well done, son!»* they chorused.
*»Im treating you to the best ice cream in town,»* Arthur declared, hitting the accelerator.
At the café, watching them clown around, Diana felt no anger. Just lightness. Arthur caught her gaze.
*»See? We did it. Together, were unstoppable.»*
She knew the past was gone. But nowsomehowthey were a team again.
