A/N: Welcome to the most awkward family dinner in the history of family dinners.

„What the heck, Dad?“ Tom hisses a few days later at James, who’s leaning against the counter in his kitchen way too comfortably. In the dining room he can still hear the soft murmurs of the two voices he didn’t expect when his father’s suggested they ‘should have a roast on Friday night’.

Libby's not been talking to him for the past three days, and now Tom’s supposed to have a lovely dinner with her and Matt? His wife – ex-wife – and his used-to-be best friend Matt?

The two siblings look like they belong there in James’ house. And Tom? He seems to be a guest.

Okay, he’s not been home for any meals these past days since he’s gotten here. But he thought... well, he thought that maybe his father wanted to talk. Maybe catch up? And now Libby's there, her brother looks like he considers killing Tom slowly and painfully, and Tom can’t walk out without looking like a massive jerk.

Okay, more of a jerk than he already seems to be seen as here.

“You wanted to talk to her, didn’t you?” James has got that stupid smile on his face that Diana swears Tom inherited. He’s never believed her.

Tom scoffs. “What, you think this is the right time to possibly discuss a divorce? She didn’t want to talk to me before, why would she do now?”

James’s smirk grows, as does Tom’s anger. “I never said you should talk about the divorce, son,” he says. “Maybe it would do you some good, if you actually talked to her. You know? Ask her how she's doing? Sometimes those little, nice conversations work wonders.”

With that James walks past Tom, turning around in the doorway before leaving for the dining room. “You don't have to stay, if you don’t want to. You’re a free man and this is a free country. But this is my house, and if you can’t behave like a grown-up, I’ll throw you out.”

Then, he’s gone. And Tom stares at the spot his father’s just vacated for a few moments, before he lets out a frustrated growl and paces the floor.

His heart is thudding heavily in his chest and his hands tug at the ends of his hair. This is madness. He should just leave. They can’t be in the same place for more than a few minutes without arguing. And that’s just him and Libby. Tom doesn’t even want to think about Matt.

And then he stops pacing. What is he even doing? What is Libby even doing? This is the house Tom grew up in. She’s got no right to drive him out of his own house. Well, his father’s house. No, Tom decides with a huff. He’s not going to give her that satisfaction.

Sending a quick text to Julia, promising to call later in the evening when the dinner with his father – just James, because Julia obviously doesn’t know there’s anyone else here in the house, or Tom's life for that matter – is over, he takes a deep breath and leaves for the dining room.

***
He’s missed so much. Tom’s known that, you can’t stay away for five years and expect that everything will be the same when you come back. But he didn’t realise just how much he’s missed.

Matt is not living in Oxford anymore. He’s moved to Birmingham two years ago, owning his own construction firm, being quite successful with it. He has a girlfriend, but hasn’t asked her to marry yet. Not that Tom particularly cares about that, but James is chatty this evening.

Tom also now knows that Matt still manages to drive to Oxford every two weeks.

Yes, he gets it. But Birmingham is closer than New York. Thank you very much.

And then there’s the fact that both Mr and Mrs Lucas died in the past year. Tom actually swallows heavily at the news he’s heard a few days prior but that haven’t hit home until Matt talks about it, and Tom sees how Libby swallows, casting her eyes downward, munching on her piece of roast.

“I’m sorry,” Tom says. It’s stupid. But what else is there to say?

“It's not your fault,” Libby mumbles.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Matt cuts in at that point. Tom’s a bit surprised to be honest. He hasn’t been prepared for Matt giving him a harder time than Libby. Or maybe he has.

“We sent you invitations to the funerals. Maybe they’ve been lost in the fan mail.”

The silence is heavy until James clears his throat. “You’ve both been very brave. It wasn’t easy.”

They continue to eat in silence. This is the strangest dinner Tom’s ever attended. Maybe he should just go to his room?

But no. That’s exactly what he doesn’t want. Being send away by those two. Because again, he feels like he’s 20, not quite grown-up but somehow listening to his parents’ advice when visiting. Which he and Libby did a lot at that time. Well, what Libby obviously still does.

“What about the house?” Tom asks instead, seeing from the corner of his eyes how James shakes is head slowly. What? He’s supposed to make conversation, isn’t he?

“It'd be too big to live there alone,” Libby mumbles, and Matt adds, “And with my business in Birmingham, I can’t just come and live here.”

“Plus, a house isn’t cheap in maintenance,” James adds as Tom feels himself nodding along.

“Well, from the money you’d get in a divorce, you could surely buy the house back,” he hears himself mumbling next and then there’s silence.

Silence before two voices talk at once. “Are you fucking crazy bringing up the divorce now? How is that even related? Is there anything you do or say anymore that isn’t calculated? You really made me think you cared just two minutes ago.” – Matt, and finally just an exasperated “Tom,” from his father. Libby remains strangely quiet. Tom looks over at her, seeing how she stares down at her plate, chewing on her meat slowly, deliberately.

He sighs. Honestly, this time he’s got no idea himself why he’s brought it up. And he knows that it's not appropriate. He knows he should have kept his mouth shut, and he definitely knows he’s fucked up. Again. Tom closes his eyes.

“I’m...,” he starts, trying to meet Libby's gaze again, but this time she does speak up, and interrupts him.

“Just don't say anything. And please just leave him be,” she addresses James and Matt. “We know why he’s here, so that shouldn’t be surprising.” She closes her eyes and then looks up at Tom. He ignores his father and brother-in-law and focuses on his ex-wife instead. “I’m trying to have a nice Friday night, could we do this tomorrow?”

Tom nods, more to himself than Libby. “Yeah, I’m...”

“Just shut up,” she grumbles, before he can say any more.

Maybe he’s just tired of this situation, Tom thinks. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here at all. Just let Brian find a good lawyer, found out Libby's current address, and then had the papers send to her with a time limit for signing. But no, now he’s here in his old house with memories everywhere. In the house where be grew up in with the garden he shared his first kiss with the woman currently sitting in front of him.

Along with the other people he hasn’t seen in quite some time. With two men who look like they want to punch him. At this point, Tom would gladly let them. For being so stupid. Not just for coming here, but also for the many ridiculous things that left his mouth these last couple of days.

It’s almost like he can’t help himself around Libby. Beth. Lucas. Whatever. She's always talked back at him. Supported him, of course, but didn’t take shit from him, either.

Maybe he’s gotten too used to life in Hollywood? Where everyone makes sure he’s well looked after? Maybe he thought Libby's changed just as he has? For the better, of course. He’s grown up, right? Got his career started and saw the world. She's not grown that much. But maybe he should not say that right now.

So, amidst the sounds of eating and cutlery and crockery being used, Tom is silent, hoping this evening will end fast enough for him making a call to Julia that he desperately needs. Not that he can tell her anything that’s actually going on.

***
“So, what do you say,” Matt starts when the plates have been cleared away, “Tom, will you join us at the pub tonight?”

Beth almost chokes on the gulp of wine in her mouth, but manages to swallow before any accidents can occur. To his credit, Tom looks just as shocked as Beth feels, even going slightly pale as far as she can see.

“Oh, I don’t think...” Tom starts, and Matt seems to be on a roll.

“Well, I think. It’s a great idea. You want Beth to talk to you? You want to be treated as an adult and not a child? Get involved, see your friends. Former friends. Maybe show that you care a bit. Works great for you when you’re going to galas and charity events all over Hollywood.”

Matt smirks, and Beth knows what he’s doing. But taunting Tom has never worked well. He'll just get competitive, and Beth can already see the three of them sitting in the pub they’ve used to frequent regularly when they were younger and Tom and her still in love.

James clears his throat. “I think a night out could work wonders,” he winks and then stands up from the table. “I’ll be in front of the TV. Don't be too loud coming back home.”

As Tom and Beth stare after him, Matt chuckles. “What do you say, Tom? Are you in?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Thank goodness, one more person aside from her at this table that actually has some common sense.

“I can’t be seen here out and about. People will see me and they’ll tell, and then the paparazzi will appear and there goes the peace and quiet.”

Matt snorts at the same time as Beth can’t help but mumble, “What peace and quiet?”

Really now? That’s his reason? He thinks people will care that much for him being in a pub in a small town? That’s how he’s living his life in America now, isn’t it?

Okay. So, Tom’s competitive. Well, unfortunately, Beth is too. “Who would tell, Tom? The beekeeper that served you your first legal beer? The one that cleaned after your first legal ‘I’m Tom, and I can drink all of you under the table’?. Or your friends that have never spoken about you before, even when some media called when you first became famous?”

Tom's silence just eggs her on, along with the barely concealed exasperation in his eyes. “If that’s what your life in Hollywood is like with your new friends, maybe they’re the problem, not the people you’ve grown up with here.”

Beth feels Matt’s eyes darting from her to Tom, but hers don’t leave the man on the other side of the table while she takes a sip from her wine glass to hide a smile.

Tom stands up, head held high, a smirk playing around his lips. “I’m getting changed, I’ll be down in five minutes.”