"Frank Reagan, do you plan to stay in that bed all day? It's time to get up!"
Frank stirred at the sound of his wife's voice. He had been awake for a while, but had remained in bed, lying there reminiscing. There were so many memories going through his head this particular morning.
He recalled the moment he had held his first born chid, Daniel "Danny" Fitzgerald Reagan. The memory was so clear, it was as if it had occurred just the day before. He remembered the proud feeling deep inside as he held the tiny, wrinkled infant in his arms, he could still feel his restless squirms, hear his loud cries of protest. He recalled his own words to his wife, Mary Margaret, who had just given birth to the feisty little creature wrapped in blue.
"We did it Mary! We have a son!"
"Yes, we do, Frank."
He could see her smile, tired and weary after hours of labor, but just as proud and happy as he was.
He recalled going out into the lobby, and making the announcement to his own mom and dad, as well as Mary's parents.
"It's a boy!" he had exclaimed as he passed out cigars to everyone in sight. "It's a boy!"
He recalled the same proud memories at the birth of his only daughter, Erin, and then his second son, Joseph "Joe", and finally, his youngest, Jamison "Jamie".
He sat up in the bed now, pulled the covers up around his waist.
"It's my day. If I want to stay in bed all day, I just might do that!"
"Your day? As in Frank Reagan day? Really? I didn't know that. I must have missed that memo."
"Ha! Ha! Very funny, Nicole. You know what I'm referring to. It's Father's Day."
"Oh….that day! Well, then, that's different. It is your day. But you still need to get out of bed."
Frank continued to sit, enjoying the view of his beautiful wife standing at the foot of their bed. She obviously had been up for a while, her hair was already styled, and her makeup perfect. She was wearing her favorite pink silk robe, and he assumed underneath it was his favorite pink nightgown. Or maybe not. She usually slipped into a robe following her shower, only dressing once her makeup was applied. The sight of her, and the thought of what might not be under that robe, aroused him. He wondered if he might persuade her to return to the bed with him.
"I find it strange, Nicole, that you are wanting me out of bed. You're usually quite fine with me in it."
"That is quite true, Commissioner."
"Then how about joining me," he said as he patted the bed next to him.
"Wow. That's a pretty difficult offer to resist, but resist I must. Breakfast is almost ready, so you need to get up."
"But it's Father's Day. I'm supposed to be served breakfast in bed. So, where is it? I'm expecting all my favorites. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, biscuits, gravy—"
"In your dreams, Frank Reagan."
"Well, what kind of wife doesn't give her husband what he wants on Father's Day?"
"The kind that prefers not to clog his arteries with all that cholesterol. Besides, you're not my father. It's not my job to serve you breakfast in bed. You should be up, doing that for Henry."
He tilted his head from side to side.
"Good point." Frank hesitated, sighed. "I miss those days."
"What days, Frank?" Nicole asked as she crawled back in bed, snuggled up next to him.
He put his arm around her, pulled her close.
"Those days when the kids were all little, and they would all pile on the bed with me and their mother, waking us so they could serve me my breakfast, give me the cards they had made at school, and were so proud of."
"Sounds like sweet days, Frank."
"They were. Back then my worries were which one would get hurt on the playground, not which one would get shot. Their hurts could be fixed with a kiss on the boo-boo."
"And Joe was still alive."
"Yes. And Joe was still alive," Frank replied, a sadness taking over his face, his voice.
"Well, unfortunately, Frank, we can't turn back the clock. So, you concentrate on the good memories, and enjoy the present. Now you have three wonderful grandchildren with Sean, Jack and Nicky, and a wonderful daughter-in-law with Linda, and—"
"And you," Frank added, kissing her on the top of her head.
"Yes, and me."
Well, those additions in my life — the grandkids, and a beautiful, sexy wife, and Pop still with us — all that I am thankful for. The kids have their own families now, their own lives. Now Danny is the dad getting breakfast in bed. Some day Jamie will. Life moves on, whether we want it to or not."
"That it does," Nicole replied.
Frank turned her toward him.
"I am extremely lucky to have you in my life, Nicole," he said as he caressed her face, pushed her hair back. "I love you."
With his hand on the back of her neck, he pulled her close, leaned in and touched her lips with his own.
"Oh, jeez!"
Nicole jerked away at the sound of Henry's voice.
"Good morning, Pop," Frank said to the man standing just inside the bedroom door. "Happy Father's Day."
"Same to you, Francis," he replied. "Now get out of bed and get downstairs. Breakfast is ready and getting cold."
"We'll be right down, Pop."
"Good! And put on a shirt before you come down. I have no desire to stare across the breakfast table at your hairy chest."
"Whatever you say, Pop. I wouldn't want to ruin your breakfast this morning."
"Good. Now hurry up."
When Henry disappeared from the doorway, Frank said, "What's up with him? And what's the big deal about my chest hair?"
"I have no idea," Nicole replied, running her hand through the thick hair of his chest. "I quite enjoy it myself."
"Well, you can keep enjoying it if you like," he said, as he reached to untie her robe.
"As much as I would love that, I think we'd better get downstairs."
Nicole quickly kissed his chest, then turned around and slid off the bed on her side. Tightening the belt of her robe, she said, "I'll see you downstairs. Happy Father's Day, Frank. I love you."
Frank left the bed, slipped into long pajama pants and a Tee-shirt, then headed into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth before heading downstairs.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Nicole was waiting with his favorite coffee mug, full of steaming hot coffee.
"Thank you. I could have made it to the kitchen and helped myself."
"Yes, you could have. But, as you said, it's your day. And since it is, Henry and I thought we would have breakfast in the dining room."
"The dining room? That's a bit formal for breakfast, don't you think? Especially just the three of us."
"Yes, it would be a bit much if it were just the three of us."
Frank looked at her, puzzled. "What do you mean, if?"
"Come see."
She reached for his hand, led him to the dining room, where the door was closed.
"After you, Frank." Nicole motioned him to go inside.
"What's going on, Nicole?"
"Go in. You'll see."
Still puzzled, he stalled for a few seconds, then opened the door.
"Happy Father's Day!" they all said in unison.
Much to Frank's surprise, the dining room was full. Everyone was there — Danny, Linda, Sean, Jack, Erin, Nicky, Jamie, and Pop.
Shocked, Frank asked, "What's going on? What's this all about?"
"It's Father's Day, Dad. We thought it would be nice to all get together for breakfast before Mass," Erin replied.
"It's a great idea!" Frank said, his smile huge. "A wonderful idea!"
"Well, let's get seated," Henry insisted. "It's getting cold!"
Frank turned to Nicole.
"Did you plan this?"
"I'd love to take credit, but no. I believe Erin and Linda get most of the credit. My only contribution was to get you downstairs."
"You were a bit slow about that, I must say," Danny replied with a smirk.
"Sorry about that," Nicole said, smiling.
"Look at that spread!" Frank commented as he headed to the head of the table, pulling out the chair for Nicole.
"All your favorites, Francis," Henry said. "Bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns, biscuits, gravy."
"And pancakes!" exclaimed Sean.
"Pancakes, too? Wow!" Frank said, smiling at his grandson.
Frank turned his smile to Nicole.
"Enjoy it this morning, Frank. You will return to your low sodium, low cholesterol diet tomorrow."
As he sat in his chair, Frank said, "This is nice. This is really nice. Do I get to say Grace?"
"Yes, you do, Dad," Erin replied.
Frank said Grace, then sat, looking over the table as his family began passing the large bowls and platters of food while chatting with one another.
He missed Joe, and Mary, and his own mother, but he was thankful for the family he had, and that they were all together this morning, on his day.
