I – Imitating Indians
(with apologies to anyone born in India and all Native Americans – I mean no disrespect)
November started crisp and cool, covering the Coulson yard in a myriad of colored leaves that delighted Skye and the twins. At the teacher's request Skye proudly chose the prettiest, largest and smallest leaves she could find to create a fall collage. It hung in the family room at her eye level. She brought it to everyone's attention.
A full year and then some had passed since the family began to take shape. Jemma had celebrated her tenth birthday mid-September claiming that she and Fitz could not be called 'the twins' until after the new year and Fitz's tenth birthday. He snarled at being called the baby brother, but secretly enjoyed the extra attention it garnered from his mother. He and Skye spent hours in the backyard raking leaves into giant piles then jumping into them and spreading them all over the yard again. They also enjoyed hiding under the piles and leaping up to surprise anyone daring to pass by which earned them both a swift swat from Gram when they caused her to drop a dozen eggs she had just purchased. However, it did very little to discourage them from trying again.
Halloween had been a treat for everyone. Phil went overboard with decorations and celebrations. He was more of a kid than all of their children put together, insisting on dressing as his favorite superhero and accompanying the younger kids as they visited the houses throughout the neighborhood collecting more candy than they could eat in a year. Melinda made sure most of it disappeared into a bag and reappeared in bowls scattered throughout her office. She smirked at the fact that perhaps the sugar high would motivate some of the less enthusiastic staff.
Skye had dressed as a little black cat complimenting Jemma's witch costume. Fitz donned a white lab coat and wild wig to be a mad scientist. Melinda fought quite a battle getting the three over excited children into bed on a school night, finally succeeding when Phil promised a Halloween story that scared the daylights out of all of them and had their bed full of children for the night. Skye insisted on wearing her costume to school the next day and cried all the way there when she could not. A compromise was made and the little girl wore the black leotard and tail with drawn on whiskers all weekend…and every evening the week after.
Jemma squealed with joy, jumping up and down through the hall and kitchen when she received a letter from Bobbi letting her know both she and Hunter would be in the States for Thanksgiving and would like nothing better than to celebrate with the family.
"It's our first real Thanksgiving as a real family." She smiled as she threw her arms around Melinda's waist. "Last year I didn't even think about it, but now there is so much to be thankful for."
Skye swung her legs, thumping them against the vanity in the powder room. Melinda had sat her on the counter to examine the gash in her knee. After fifteen minutes of calming her down enough to simply lift her pant leg high enough to see the small injury, Melinda wiped it clean and covered it with a Monster's Inc band aid. The little girl rubbed a dirty hand across her tear streaked face leaving a dirty swipe on her cheek. She sniffled a few times and looked to Jemma who stood in the doorway.
"I see Hunner and Bobbi comin to our howis?" She sniffled as she reached toward her sister.
"Oh, sweetie, there are no pictures. Bobbi merely sent me a note, a real note. Isn't it just lovely?" She held the paper for Skye to examine while Melinda quickly washed the smaller girl's hands and face. "This is stationery." Jemma explained to her younger sister. She smiled widely at her mother. "Most people don't use this. I wonder where she managed to find it. Don't you think it is so thoughtful of Bobbi to send this?" The little girl bubbled with excitement as Melinda lifted Skye to the floor and led both girls from the powder room.
"I think it's wonderful that Bobbi thought to send you such a fantastic gift." Melinda smiled at her older daughter's joy.
"Jemma gotz a giff? I see?" Skye walked on tiptoes to look at the paper Jemma still held with both hands.
"This is the gift." Jemma smiled as she handed the sheet of mock vellum to the smaller girl. She held the envelope and lightly passed her fingers over the British postage stamps. She knew it was one of the reasons Bobbi sent her regular mail rather than e-mail or a made mere phone call. Jemma loved seeing something from the UK, to hold it in her hands. Da had given her a cigar box to keep all of Bobbi's letters safe.
Skye looked at the paper and the blue squiggly marks on it. She turned it in a circle and then back to front scrunching her face in confusion. "This not a good giff, Jemma. It bees a pita paypour. I gotsa lotsa paypour in my deskess. This non't gotz even a pitcher." The little girl handed it back and frowned at the broad smile on her big sister's face.
Melinda laughed a small laugh as she scooped up her baby and plopped her in her booster seat. "Jemma is just happy to have something from Bobbi." She explained to the little one.
"But it bees ownee a paypour, momma." Skye wrinkled her nose and held out her palms in a bouncy motion that was typical of Skye.
"Yes, it is baobei," Melinda smiled as she kissed the little girl on the tip of the nose. Skye smiled and closed her eyes as she pulled back gently. "But it bees a paper from Bobbi and that makes it sooo important to Jemma, just like all your pictures on the refrigerator make me so happy." Melinda nodded toward the appliance that was almost totally covered with preschool artwork.
"You put you paypour onna fidgerador, Jemma?" Skye asked with wide eyes.
Jemma shook her head, rereading the letter for the countless time. "I'm going to keep in my room."
Skye looked at her sister for a beat then let out a little breath. "Momma, I have peaba jelly bread?"
"Absolutely," Melinda smiled at Skye's abridged version of peanut butter and jelly. I have some nice warm chicken soup from Grams to go with it. How's that sound?"
"Mmmm," Skye rubbed her belly. "I no like-a green soup, momma." The little girl shook her head.
"Not one green chicken in the pot." Melinda criss-crossed her heart as she turned toward the cabinet and withdrew four bowls.
"Momma," Skye scolded. "Shickens not be green."
Melinda watched as Jemma made her way down the hallway toward the stairs. "Jemma, come right back for lunch and tell your brother his sentence is commuted so he'd better get himself down here as well."
"Yes, momma." Jemma answered softly as she walked up the stairs still staring at the letter she held.
xx
Fitz dropped the book he'd been reading and rolled off his bed at the soft knock on his door. He'd been banished to his room for the last hour for talking back one too many times. It was more of a self proclaimed exile to avoid his mother's threat of taking him there herself for more than just a bit of time to think about his snarky attitude.
It was just one of those days when Fitz was out of sorts, angry at everyone and everything. Twice he'd brought Skye to tears, which was very unlike the little boy who generally was the first to defend his little sister. He'd teased Jemma unmercifully and barked back at his mother when she asked him repeatedly to stop. Part of the whole thing was his foul mood and most of that was caused by the fact that Phil had taken Trip on a 'mission' with him today.
Trip got to go observe the security procedures Phil and his team were putting in place for a former Basketball star player who would address a group of college players at a banquet the following weekend. Fitz felt quite left out. Even if he wasn't much of a basketball fan, he was an avid Phil fan. He was hurt since he hadn't even been asked to go and angry because he didn't beg to be part of the adventure. So he spent the morning taking out all of that on his mother and sisters.
"Look, Fitz!" Jemma smiled as she rushed into his room holding the letter out to him. "Bobbie and Hunter are coming for Thanksgiving." She pulled the treasured letter back to her heart. "Isn't that splendid?"
Fitz dropped down on the bed and snarled, "so what…who cares about a ridiculous Yank holiday…it's just a stupid reason to overeat." He folded his arms over his chest and jutted out his chin.
She frowned at him for a moment then smiled again. "Oh, Fitz it isn't ridiculous, it's a time to be thankful for all we have, for family and friends."
"Well, I'm not feeling overly thankful right now so yes…it is ridiculous." He puppy growled at her.
"You're just resentful because momma made you stay in your room. She says to come for lunch." Jemma sighed as she turned to leave the room.
"I sent myself to my room if you remember correctly, Jemma. And I don't want any lunch." Fitz called after her sarcastically.
A few minutes later Jemma walked back into the kitchen. Melinda sat at the table sipping her soup while Skye bit down the middle of half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich sending the opposite ends of it around her cheeks. She set the sandwich down revealing streaks of purple and tan on both. Jemma sat on her own chair, picked up her spoon and daintily sipped the broth.
"Fitz?" Melinda asked with one word.
"He says he doesn't want lunch." Jemma told her mother without looking up.
"Mmmm, hmmm," Melinda raised one eyebrow as she rose and stormed to the bottom of the stairs.
Skye stopped her sandwich halfway to her open mouth. "Uh oh," the little girl raised both brows as she watched her mother. One side of her oddly eaten sandwich dropped back to her plate. She picked it up and held one piece in each hand debating which to bite first.
"Serves him right," Jemma spoke under her breath.
Melinda stood at the bottom of the stairs, closed her eyes and counted slowly. "Fitz!" she called just loud enough for the boy to hear. "Your lunch is on the table. I expect you to come down here."
"I'm not a bit hungry." Came his answer, apparently he was lying down in his room and had no intention of getting up, even to reply.
Melinda put one foot on the first step. "Leopold James Coulson Fitz if I have to come up there neither of us is going to be very happy."
"I'm already unhappy." The little boy called back, almost daring her to carry through.
Melinda took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She really did not want to do this today. It was Saturday. She just wanted a nice quiet peaceful day with her little ones. She took another breath and exhaled. "Last chance, Fitz."
"I said I'm not hungry. I'm not happy and I'm not about to come down there." Fitz's angry voice was a lot louder than it needed to be. That and the wicked slamming of his bedroom door were the straws that broke the veritable camel's back.
Melinda shook her head. "Suit yourself, little man," she whispered to herself as she started up the stairs. "Jemma," she called to the kitchen. "Keep an eye on Skye, please. Your brother and I won't be long."
Skye slurped a noodle halfway into her mouth before catching it with her hand and helping it along. She chewed quickly and swallowed. "Jemma? Momma gonna be mad to Fitz?"
Jemma looked over her shoulder and shook her head before turning back to her sister. "Yes, Skye, I think momma is very angry toward Fitz."
"Poowa Fitz. Him gonna be sad to momma." Skye shook her head and slurped another noodle.
A few minutes later Melinda entered the kitchen with a very contrite Fitz in tow. He slumped into his chair and slid down until little more than his eyes showed over the edge of the table then folded his arms over his chest.
"Sit up, Fitz," Melinda warned softly as she dished a bowl of soup. Fitz scrunched up his nose at his mother's back, but did not do as he was told. Jemma shook her head as Skye watched over the edge of her bowl, slowly slurping noodles from her spoon.
Melinda set the bowl in front of her grumpy little boy and stood back, folding her own arms over her chest. She glared down at him, waiting for him to comply with her request. Both girls watched in silence. Their brother often challenged their mother's authority. It never ended well for him.
"You gonna getsa a dà dǎ pìgu, Fizt." Skye giggled, covering her mouth with one hand.
"Zài tā luǒlù de dǐbù," Jemma added with the exact same giggle.
The boy sneered at his sisters as he pushed himself upright on the chair then peered up at his mother. She smiled at his action, gave him a quick nod and turned to the amused girls.
"That's enough, you two. Leave your brother alone and finish your lunch or there will be enough big spankings for everyone's little bottom." Melinda winked at Fitz as she sat back down to finish her own lunch. The girls took the hint and continued eating as well.
Fitz picked up his spoon and swirled it back and forth in the soup. He watched as the liquid twirled and the noodles spun in tiny whirlpools. He glanced at the half sandwich on the plate next to the bowl, ready to remind his mother that he did not like peanut butter or grape jelly, but realized it was cream cheese and marmalade. He glanced at her quickly and saw her look back with a smile.
"You aren't dredging a pond, Fitz" Melinda remarked as she picked up her own spoon and nodded toward him.
The boy turned down the corners of his mouth and stilled his hand, but made no move to try his soup. He tapped the end of the spoon with one finger and swung his feet under the table. His brow was locked in a furious scowl but he stared into the bowl rather than anyone at the table.
Skye shrugged off her big brother's crankiness, sat up straight and slurped the last of her noodles. She frowned at the broth left in her bowl. "Momma, I gots no mower bumps in mine soup. Now it just whattor."
"It's broth, sweetheart." Jemma corrected as she tilted her bowl away from herself and finished the last of her soup. She too had lost interest in Fitz's tantrum and simply let it go.
Skye leaned forward and stretched up to look into her bowl. She looked at Jemma then back to their mother. "I no like-a just brothe with no thing elless. It be just whattor."
Melinda smiled as she added a few noodles to Skye's bowl then sat back down after retrieving them from the large pot on the stove. She watched Fitz staring at his lunch. "Not enough bumps for you, Fitz?"
The boy looked at his mother over his brows and refused to even smile at her attempted humor. "I'm not hungry." He mumbled as he dropped his spoon with a clink and slumped back against his chair, once again folding his arms over his chest.
"You are so very cross today, Fitz." Jemma stated softly as she stood and carried her bowl to the sink. "Aren't you the least bit excited about seeing Hunter again?"
Fitz rolled his eyes and let out a fluttery breath, but did not answer. He was sick of his sister's fascination with the American holiday that would bring their friends to visit. He wasn't about to share in anyone's happiness when he felt so lousy just about everything. What he really wanted to do was shove that damn bowl right across the table, knock this stupid chair over and scream at the top of his lungs until he just couldn't scream anymore. He closed his eyes and imagined the scene in his mind.
Jemma shook her head at her brother's attempt to ignore her questions as she sat back down on her chair. Melinda placed a few slices of apple in front of her. She nodded her thanks and nibbled on a piece. Melinda motioned to Fitz with her eyes and gave Jemma a 'give him a break' look as Skye rambled on about her upcoming Thanksgiving pageant at school.
"I gonna be a indin at a big big dinnor in mine school. Miss Pani say it." Skye nodded as she made her announcement. "I gots a head belt widda fetter." She laid her hand atop her head as she spoke. "Momma and Daddy come to my school an eat atta taybo wit me." She smiled at Melinda who smiled back. "You not be a indin, okay momma?" Skye shook her head as she spoke. "You just be a mine momma and daddy just be a daddy."
Fitz rolled his eyes and shook his head. "It is not a belt, ninny. It is called a headband and Native Americans in the eastern part of the United States in all likelihood did not wear them. It is a sad bit of stereotyping." Suddenly the boy felt hostile toward his little sister who would have all of their mother and father's attention with her stupid inaccurate celebrate of (again) this insipid holiday he was being forced to endure. He kicked the table leg repeatedly, a bit harder each time.
"We will love being your lunch guests, baobei." Melinda threw a warning glance at her son then smiled at her youngest as she took away her empty bowl and set a small plate of apple slices in front of her.
Skye scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "You no haffa guess, momma. I telled you lasterday, member?" It seemed the little girl was oblivious to her brother's snide comments.
Jemma covered her giggle as Melinda winked at her. "I do remember, baobei. Daddy and I will be there for you and we won't guess at all."
Fitz sneered at all of them but stopped his foot an inch from the table leg at a warning glance from Melinda. Instead he again he picked up his spoon but tapped it hard on the place mat in an irritated tempo. His scowl deepened with each tap until Melinda casually removed the utensil from his hand. He narrowed one eye at her before resorting to using his knuckles to do the same thing.
"I wish I could be there as well." Jemma added trying hard to ignore the altercation between her mother and her brother. "Your little pageant sounds lovely. I am sure you will be the grandest Indian there." Skye smiled at her sister's comment and munched on a piece of apple.
"I be a bestest indin with Chessie and Darenen." She nodded before shaking her head and continuing with a frown. "Ryan no be a indin. Him be a pilrim. He no is happy to Miss Pani."
Fitz glared at his mother and sisters, flicking his finger against the side of his bowl with a plink, plink, plink. "The correct terminology is Native American." He scoffed, kicking the leg of the table in tandem with his flicking. He didn't care if his mother didn't like it. The rhythm of the knocks made his anger louder. "Indians are those born in India and have nothing to do with your ridiculous holiday."
"Fitz," Jemma sighed at her brother as Melinda tapped his knee in a not so gentle warning to stop.
"You know I'm correct, Jemma." Fitz stilled his kicking, but continued to swing his feet angrily. "This Yank holiday is nothing more than a plot to defame James the first." He snarled back.
Skye watched the conversation between her siblings as she nibbled her apple slices.
"It has little to do with that, Fitz." Jemma countered. "It is about a people celebrating their bountiful harvest and their many new friendships in a new land. You and I can do the same."
"A people who defied the King and ran off to do as they pleased all so they wouldn't be expected to follow the law of the land," Fitz's voice grew louder as he leaned forward and poked his finger against the table. "You can do as you please…I'll have no part of the nonsense." He slapped his palm on the table causing both sisters to jump.
Melinda shook her head and began to speak but was interrupted by her youngest daughter. "They is no king in my dinnor, Fizt. They is ownee indins and pilrims havink a big dinnor wit mommas and daddies." Skye corrected.
Fitz laughed through his nose and threw back his head. "See, she doesn't even know what the whole bloody thing is about."
"Fitz," Melinda warned. The boy threw his hands in the air and let them drop with a slap on his thighs rather than risk slamming the table again. He turned to Skye. "You don't know what your Thanksgiving is all about. You're too little."
"I not too liddle." Skye shook her head and smiled at her brother. "It about saying tank you, Fizt. I say tank you for the boards that zing." Skye nodded around an almost yawn.
Fitz rolled his eyes and let out a long breath. "No one cares about birds that sing and I don't care about this dumb holiday." He kicked the leg of the table hard, jarring everything on it then fell back against his chair again.
Skye's bottom lip jutted out in a slight pout. "You no nice aday, Fizt." The boy rolled his eyes, let out a breath and shook his head refusing to look at either sister. Once again the little boy folded his arms over his chest and glowered at the girls.
"Okay, enough," Melinda warned making a 'time out' signal with her hands. "We are done." She scooped Skye up from her chair, walked around the table and reached out a hand to Fitz. "Jemma, can you please clean off the table while I put your sister and your brother down for a nap."
Jemma's eyes went wide as Fitz stared open-mouthed at his mother's outstretched hand. He leaned away from it. "I'm not a bloomin' toddler. I'll not be made to nap." He glared up at his mother's determined look.
Melinda placed Skye on the floor and turned to her older daughter. "Please, take your sister into the bathroom and help her wash her hands and face." She tapped her baby's nose. "And you, use the potty while momma talks to your brother."
Jemma quickly took Skye's hand and directed her down the hall to do as she was asked. Melinda set her arms on her hips and glared down at Fitz who scowled right back.
"I don't know what's gotten into you today, young man, but it is about to come to a screeching halt." She was no longer trying to use humor to diffuse her son's bad mood. Things had gone way past that and it was time to be totally serious. Her patience was wearing thin and Fitz wasn't walking on thin ice, he had gone right through, dived through…head first.
Fitz swallowed hard but refused to back down. He pushed himself off the opposite side of the chair, stood next to it and glared at his mother. "I'm not about to take a nap and you can't make me. I'm not a baby."
Melinda folded her arms over her chest and took a deep breath. Fitz had his bad days, but today was the worst she could remember. Even those first days in Sheffield had nothing on the last five and a half hours. She fought the urge to throttle the little boy, hoping to use a calmer more understanding path. She took a breath to calm her voice and spoke as quietly as possible. "No, you're not, but you are cranky and irritable. Maybe a nice long sleep will help your very nasty attitude before I choose to use an alternative method to adjust it for you."
Fitz narrowed his eyes, set his own arms across his chest and shook his head.
Melinda counted to ten in her mind…very slowly then drew another breath and pointed toward the stairs. So much for calm, cool and understanding…now the frazzled mother fought just to keep from bellowing at the stubborn child. "You have exactly five seconds to get yourself up those stairs and into your room." She glared at him, leaving no room to doubt her intention.
The little boy stared for a moment before sliding around the chair and stomping down the hall. "I'll go to my room," he growled as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking back toward his mother who still stood pointing. "But I will not take a nap." He shouted his last refusal and pounded up the stairs.
Melinda counted the seconds before she heard his bedroom door slam. She let out the breath she'd been holding, closed her eyes and took deep breaths to quell her growing anger. Skye was already hopping toward her and Jemma had that 'oh, no poor Fitz' look about her. She swallowed the anger she felt at her son's behavior as she picked up her baby and headed up the stairs.
xx
It took just about ten minutes to settle Skye into her bed, sing two songs and explain to her that Fitz was not angry with her before the little girl relaxed enough to drift off with Salty secure in her arms. Melinda slipped out the door, pulling it shut softly. She took a deep breath and crossed the hall, tapping twice on Fitz's door before pushing it open.
The little boy stood looking out the window. He turned and glared at his mother with the same anger he'd had pounding up the steps.
"You've come to tan my backside now. Haven't you?" He snarled at her. "I'm not afraid." He lied, already failing to hide the shake in his voice.
Melinda's tamed anger threatened to overtake her. She resisted the urge and refused to take a defensive stance with her nine year old son. "Is that what you think you deserve?" She asked calmly.
"I'm sure you do," he barked back. "I've been a cheeky brat all day. I'm sure you're only here to take me over your knee and teach me a lesson, then."
She stared at him for a beat and knit her brow. "It had crossed my mind." She answered honestly and almost smiled at the dread that crossed his face before he rolled his hands into tight fists. She turned and pulled the chair from his desk and sat down.
They stared at each other for a moment before Melinda spoke. "Come here, Fitz." She jutted her chin at the spot in front of her.
Fitz's hands went behind his back as he took a tentative step toward his mother, losing a bit of his bravado with each additional step that brought him closer to her. By the time he stood in front of her examining the toes of his stocking feet he'd lost most of the nerve he'd planned to use before his mother exacted his punishment. He glanced quickly at the shoes he'd kicked off after entering his room. One stood on its heel under the window he'd been standing in front of while the other lay upside down on the dresser. Just seeing them Melinda would know what he'd done…and he'd been warned on more than one occasion about that rather nasty habit.
Melinda looked at the top of his curly head and silently sighed. "This isn't really the way I planned on spending such a beautiful Saturday afternoon." She waited a few seconds for the boy's reaction, which was basically just wriggling his toes. "Did you?" She asked quietly.
Fitz shook his head, but did not look at his mother.
"Not really sure how we got here, Fitz or why you're so horrid with us today. It's not like you to stay angry so long." Again she waited for the response that did not come. She bent low to look into his face, but he turned away. "Did I do something to make you so very angry with me?" Melinda's voice was soft and quiet. "I'm sorry if I did, but your behavior is no way to handle it."
Fitz shook his head again, biting his bottom lip to stop its quivering. Melinda reached out and placed her hands on his upper arms. She rubbed them up and down slowly before sliding them down slowly until she pulled his hands forward and held them in her own. She pulled the little boy forward and he tensed, expecting the worst.
"Are you angry with Jemma or Skye?" Melinda almost whispered.
Fitz watched his mother's hands massage his own and took a shaky breath. Again he shook his head and chewed his lip. Melinda placed her finger under his chin and raised his head to look at her. Fitz squeezed his eyes shut and bounced nervously on one foot. "Maybe we should talk about it, huh?" He shook his head rapidly but could not stop the tears that began to roll over his cheeks.
Melinda pulled him into a tight embrace which only gave the little boy permission to finally let go and sob deeply into his mother's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him onto her lap, rocking gently and shushing him softly. Waiting until those sobs turned to sniffles, Melinda rested her chin on top of her son's head. "Tell momma, baobei…" She kissed the top of his head and waited for his reply.
Fitz took a deep breath and reached into his back pocket pulling out a crisp white handkerchief. Melinda smiled at the red embroidered letters on one corner 'PRC'. She knew where her little man had gotten it. Fitz strove to be exactly like his father. It wasn't surprising he'd tucked that hanky in his pocket 'for emergencies'. He wiped his eyes, then his nose, folded it neatly then tucked it back into his pocket.
The little boy looked at his mother for the first time. "Why did Da not want me to go with him today? Why did he only want Trip?" He spoke through his tears then took a shaky breath and wiped a tear away with the back of his hand. "Is…is he ashamed of me because I'm not a normal kid like Trip…I don't…can't…"
Melinda stopped him, pulling him back to her chest. Suddenly, everything became very clear. "Oh, my beautiful boy…no, no, no, your father is never, ever ashamed of you." She hugged his closer. "He loves you very, very much and he doesn't care at all if you aren't athletic like your brother." She kissed the top of his head as she felt him sob once again. "Listen to me, Fitz." She pulled him back to look in his face. "Your dad…he's not much of an athlete himself." Fitz forced a weak smile. "He didn't think you'd be interested…not like Trip." She brushed his curls away from his forehead.
"I'm sorry, momma…" Fitz sobbed again as he fell back into her embrace. "I'm sorry I was so disrespectful to you. I'm sorry I was mean to Jemma and Skye."
"Are you angry with your Da for taking Trip and not you?" Melinda asked into the little boy's curls as she comforted him.
Fitz shook his head. "I was mad at me." He sniffed twice before pulling his hanky out a second time. "Because I'm not like a real kid and because I didn't even ask Da if he would take me along. I was afraid he would say no and I didn't want to hear him say he didn't want me with him."
Melinda's heart was breaking for her baby boy. "Baobei, your Da would have taken you in an instant. He just didn't think you were interested. You should have come to me or to your dad, sweet boy. You should have let us know how you felt." Melinda stated although she was sure the very intelligent little boy already realized that fact.
"I didna think I was so angry until Da and Trip left all happy to be together." The little boy shrugged his shoulders. "I felt…angry at their happiness." He swiped at the tears threatening to fall again. "What's wrong with me momma? Why does it make me so angry to see them happy? It's not normal, momma." Fitz looked into his mother's eyes searching for some explanation for the terrible feelings that had plagued him since Phil had planned this outing with his eldest.
Melinda pulled him close and kissed his forehead. "Oh, my sweet boy, you're feeling jealous and that's normal, so very normal." She wrapped her arms around him and swayed a little as she smiled at her son's brush with a very typical part of growing up. She was overjoyed that his little genius mind overlooked it and just reacted. She didn't care much for his reaction, but Fitz rarely did anything small.
This little boy was so intelligent with numbers and design, so creative with everything he did but he struggled with understanding his own and other's emotions. Melinda wondered if it were part of his genius or due to the difficult years he spent with a too young mother more dependent on chemicals than raising her child. Sometimes she greatly disliked Emelie Fitz, but she was eternally grateful for her gift of this beautiful boy…even when he was having a no good, very bad day like today.
They sat together for a few minutes as the tension between them dissipated. Fitz took a deep breath and played with the damp hanky he still held as he rested against Melinda's shoulder. He released it in a long shaky exhale. "Are you going to spank me now?" He whispered into his own chest.
Melinda hugged him tighter and resisted the chuckle she felt. "You certainly deserve it, little man." She hesitated, letting the little boy squirm for a bit, gently patted his bottom a few times then hugged him again. "No, my sweet baobei no…no spankings today…but…" Fitz looked up at her when she hesitated again. Melinda smiled down at him. "We are going to talk to Da about today and …"
Fitz's face fell into a deep frown as he nodded slowly.
"You are going to take a nap." Melinda squeezed his hand that she held as he opened his mouth to protest. She held up a finger and raised her brows. "Or we can rethink that spanking…"
Fitz yawned a wide exaggerated yawn. "All of a sudden I am awfully tired." He almost smiled as he snuggled into his mother's embrace.
Melinda smiled, kissed his head and stood, setting Fitz on his feet. They moved to the bed and shewaited for him to lie down and get comfortable before sitting next to him and once again singing softly until her little one relaxed into slumber.
xx
A little after three Skye bounced down the stairs as Phil and Trip came through the back door. She raced to her father, shrieking his name and bouncing around him until he scooped her into a bear hug, kissing her over and over until her giggles had her breathless. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face there, inhaling the familiar smell of his cologne. A second later her head popped up and she looked at Phil with a serious glare.
"Fitz no beed a good boy aday, daddy. Him no talk nice at us." She shook her head as Phil looked to Melinda.
"Okay, little broadcaster," Melinda smiled as she took the little girl from her father and set her on the floor. "Go play with Jemma while I talk to Daddy."
Trip beamed as he stood in a brand new basketball jersey and held an autographed ball under his arm. He held out a hand to his little sister. "Come on, baby girl, let's go find Jemma." He took her hand and led her from the room.
Melinda finished telling Phil all the gory details of the day about two minutes before Fitz shuffled into the kitchen. He stopped when he realized his parents were seated at the table speaking in quiet voices and was pretty sure what they were discussing.
Phil turned in his chair and eyed the little boy standing in the doorway. He crooked a finger at him then pointed to a spot next to his chair. Fitz blew out a quick breath and complied.
Melinda excused herself, slipping into the family room after placing a quick kiss on her little boy's head. Phil's discussion lasted about five minutes. It consisted of an apology for not inviting Fitz along for the day, a quick lecture on talking back to his mother, and a firm tap on the backside for even thinking Phil would ever be ashamed of him. It ended with a hug and a promise that Fitz would never let something make him so very angry and not talk to his mom or dad about it in the future. Father and son then entered the family room together.
"Hey, little man!" Trip greeted his brother with a wide smile. He pulled himself up from the couch and held out the bottom of his jersey. "Whadya think, bro? Cool huh?" He picked up the ball and bounced it once on the carpet, earning a glare from Melinda who was helping Skye snap together a few Legos into an airplane shape. Trip grimaced and shrugged once as he tucked the ball under his arm. Fitz smiled at his brother's treasures. "This is nothing, Fitz, nothing at all. You wouldn't believe it. Da told the guy all about you and how smart you are and how you helped me improve my game with all that math stuff and he was so impressed, man. He thinks you're a star all on your own, Fitz." He lightly socked the smaller boy on the shoulder. Fitz smiled as he rubbed the spot.
"Me?" The little boy asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, man. He wants to meet you, little guy, wants you to tell him all about those math things you used with me."
"Really," Fitz beamed as Phil placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. Fitz tilted his head back and looked up at his father who nodded in agreement.
"Hey, man he invited all of us to his house next weekend. He's got a real pool right inside his house!" Trip's voice squeaked with his excitement. "And man, he's got more Legos than you will ever see in your whole lifetime! Geez, Fitz you could build a full sized plane and walk around inside it!"
"I don't know Trip, next week is Thanksgiving and well, Fitz's behavior today doesn't really beg reward." Phil shook his head as he winked at Melinda.
Fitz let out a soft sigh as the weight of his father's statement showed in his face. Trip's mouth fell open as well before he shook it off and smiled. "Ya know, Da, you could always just give him a dozen or so whacks on the wazoo and call it even."
"Hey!" Fitz quickly protested, causing everyone to break into laughter.
Xx
Hunter and Bobbi arrived on Tuesday morning, stopping at the Coulson's office before settling in to the basement guestroom to sleep off their jet lag before the tribe arrived home after school. It was certain the holiday celebration scheduled for Thursday would have an early start.
Phil and Melinda left the office by eleven leaving themselves enough time to be seated at the festively decorated table in Skye's classroom. They sat on kid sized chairs and smiled at their little Indian as she marched into the room with her class decked out in her purple headband adorned with several brightly colored feathers sans any shade of green. She stood proudly beside her fellow tribesmen singing "I am Thankful" at the top of her lungs. Melinda covered her mouth to hide the laugh and looked to other parents doing the same. Phil merely beamed with pride. When the little program ended the children formed a circle around their parents and joined hands.
"Thank you for the world so sweet." Smiled Chelsea in her brown paper bag painted vest and deep blue head band.
"Thank you for the food we eat." Ryan recited with a less than enthusiastic sigh.
"Tank you foe the boards that zing!" Skye bubbled with enough enthusiasm for both of them.
"Thank you, God, for everything." The entire class sang as they raised their joined hands then dropped them and ran to their parents.
Everyone clapped, hugged and turned to the table for a midday meal that consisted of traditional Thanksgiving fair and ethnic dishes brought in by the children's families including Skye's favorite fried rice.
"I a good indin, momma?" Skye asked around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
Melinda quickly wiped the drips from her little girl's chin. "You are a perfect Indian, baobei." She smiled.
"Best Indian in the room," Phil agreed. "The Pilgrims would be proud to have you at their feast."
Skye smiled as she sampled a small slice of pumpkin pie covered in whipped cream. Phil wriggled his eyebrows at her treat as Melinda shook her head. The Coulsons, along with several other parents stayed to help with clean up and elected to take their little Indian home early, wishing everyone a safe and happy holiday before departing. Skye was asleep before they made it to the highway and stayed that way as Phil carried her to her bed when they arrived at home.
Jemma and Fitz stormed into the house a few hours later anxious to see their visitors and disappointed to find only mom and dad in the kitchen. Both their faces fell when Phil opened his arms in greeting. He wasn't usually home this time of day.
He gripped his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm crushed," he mock-whined. "My own children give me the cold shoulder."
Jemma giggled at his jest as she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Oh, Da, I always love you. I just expected to see Bobbi and well…"
He bent down and kissed her forehead. "I know princess…I just can't compete with the amazing Bobbi." He laughed again and wrapped his arms around the little girl.
"I knew you were teasing," Fitz smiled as he moved closer to his father. Phil reached out and tousled his hand before pulling him into the group hug.
"What in bloody hell is all the noise about?" Hunter growled as he pushed open the basement door and marched into the kitchen feigning anger. "Can't a bloke get a decent bit of sleep after crossing the pond in the middle of the night?"
The twins turned and backed into their father, eyes wide.
"Knock it off, Hunter, you're scaring them." Bobbie scolded as she slapped his shoulder and stepped around him. She spread her arms and stooped to gather the two smiling children into a welcome embrace, kissing both over and over.
"Ow," Hunter whined as he massaged the spot Bobbi had struck. He watched the children greet his partner then cleared his throat with an exaggerated sound. "Hey, doesn't a chap get a little bit of that?" He opened his arms and waited as the two children clung to Bobbi and merely blinked at him. He smiled wider and jerked his arms a few times urging them forward then looked at Bobbi when neither moved. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders.
"What? Nothing?" He looked at the kids with an rejected sulk.
Fitz broke first, smiling then laughing as he rushed to embrace his friend. Jemma followed close behind wrapping her arms around the scruffy man.
"Hunner!" Skye's shrill shriek startled everyone as she dashed into the room and squirmed between her brother and sister to greet Hunter. He lifted her up pretending to struggle with the chore.
"What have you been feedin' this imp, May? I can barely get her off the ground." He lifted the little girl almost to his shoulder before Bobbi scooped her away and covered her with kisses.
"Nǐ hǎo bǎobèi. Wǒ yǐjīng xiǎngniàn nǐle." Bobbi smiled at Skye. "Wǒ cuòguòle nǐmen suǒyǒu rén." She told the little girl and her siblings how much she missed them.
Skye merely smiled and hugged her friend. Jemma and Fitz took Hunter by the hands leading him to the family room already bombarding him in stereo with everything that had happened since they'd seen him last. Phil followed hoping to rescue the man before they scrambled his brain. Melinda watched for a moment before reaching to relieve Bobbi of her little bundle but the woman hugged the little one tighter and shook her head.
"Nope," she smiled. "I got her…I'm keeping her." She nuzzled the little girl causing her to giggle and push back from the woman.
"You ownee keep me a litill bit, Bowbi a-cuz I bees momma's baobei." She placed her hands on either side of Bobbi's face. "Okay?" The tiny girl was totally serious and Bobbi had a very hard time doing the same as she nodded slowly. Melinda turned away to hide her smile.
By Thursday morning the kids had versed Hunter in all things Thanksgiving including Skye's solo rendition of her school pageant complete with a personalized head belt made to order for the man. Skye colored strip of card stock with every color crayon in her box then taped feathers pulled from the hand held duster mom used to clean the furniture. Skye frowned at the fact they were all black, but Hunter explained it was his most favorite color and acquiesced to wear the headpiece for the day.
The house filled with wonderful smells and even more wonderful friends. Mack and Elena arrived with desserts and a few of their favorite dishes as well. Phil added two leafs to the dinning room table making it long and large enough to accommodate everyone. Gram Triplet joined the family helping to stuff the turkey and keep it basted well, slapping the hand of anyone that so much as tried to open the oven door without her permission.
Trip carried extra folding chairs from the garage. Hunter entertained the younger kids or they did him, it was a toss up and point of argument later in the day. William May arrived late in the afternoon carrying gifts for all of his grandchildren and explaining why Lian was out of the country and could not join them.
At three o clock everyone sat down to dinner wondering where they would put all of the food spread across the table. Phil carved the large turkey and smiled at the family that had grown from just he and Melinda sharing a small turkey loaf and fries two years ago to this. He blinked back the tears as he watched his children interact with the others at the table.
Trip had grown at least three inches and now towered over his father. Jemma was eating again, maybe not as much as they wished, but she was eating without provocation or argument. Fitz had his moments of doubt but they grew farther apart. He had grown close to both parents and allowed both to hug and kiss him goodnight…a major accomplishment. Skye was their baby, their sweet baby girl who no longer screamed terrified in the night or feared being taken or sent away because she made a mistake or dared to be naughty.
Mack tapped his glass and cleared his throat, quieting the crowd at the table. He looked to Phil who gave him a quick nod as he sat at the head of the table. He watched at the large man took Elena's hand in his own and held out the other to Fitz. The little boy watched as his hand disappeared into that of his large friend and turned to take Bobbi's hand on his opposite side. Around the table everyone did the same until the circle was complete and the big quiet man closed his eyes and bowed his head.
"Lord, we thank you for this bounty…this food and this family. Thank you for bringing these children to our hearts and for making all of us closer. Thank you for Miss Triplet's health and for keeping everyone safe through all the troubles we've weathered. Thank you for smiles and laughter, for tears and sorrow. Thank you for parents that love and children that need love. Thank you for friends and for bringing us together on this day of Thanks. Amen."
"Amen" everyone repeated as they dropped their hands and prepared to dig into their feast.
Skye still held on to Mack's very large hand. He looked to her and smiled. "We not done." She informed him softly. He raised his brows in question and she nodded.
Mack cleared his throat again and everyone looked. "Skye says we're not done…so…" he closed his eyes and bowed his head again.
Everyone put down their forks and did the same. Skye looked around the table at everyone then cleared her own throat.
"And tank you foe the boards that zing." She repeated with four year old reverence.
Everyone paused, waiting…
"Amen!" Fitz smiled, winking at his little sister.
She smiled back and picked up her fork.
Melinda took a breath to catch the happy sob in her throat and squeezed Phil's hand.