Nate lays across the back seat of my car, sleeping. He heard my mom leave a voicemail asking me over for Thanksgiving and convinced (nagged) me to pay her a visit. With no family of his own, I figured he would enjoy spending time with my mom. I pull up at her small house three hours later. I turn in my seat and shake Nate awake. "Wake up, kid. We're here."

He yawns and stretches, much like a cat after its nap. We gather our bags and head up to the front door. I ring the doorbell and I hear feet coming up to the door. My mom opens the door and says, "Victor! How are you, dear?"

"I'm great, Mom, how are you?"

"Just wonderful now that you're here." She hugs me, then turns her attention to Nate. "And this must be Nathan."

"Oh, you can call me Nate. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Sullivan."

He holds out his hand to shake her hand, but she decides to hug him anyway. "That's not how we do things in this house. Hugs all around." She steps back and smiles at him like she's known him for years. "And you can call me Grandma, sweet pea."

When I told her on the phone that I had taken in a kid, she was delighted and said, "It's about time I got some grandchildren from you. Even if they're not technically yours." It looks like he's gonna fit right in with the rest of the family.

Mom leads us into the kitchen and warms up some pasta for Nate. She insisted on him eating after hearing his stomach growl. His face lights up at the first bite. I chuckle and grab a beer from the fridge. "That good, huh?"

He nods while swallowing."You're a great chef, Mrs. Su... I mean, Grandma."

"Well, thanks for the compliment, but I didn't make it, sweetie. It's store bought. I don't cook, but I'm sure you could figure that out from my son." She puts a hand on my head. "I can pretty much guarantee he's never touched a stove in his life."

Nate laughs, "Yeah, we have pizza almost every night."

"Now, Vic, that's no way to feed a growing boy," she scolds.

"Hey, he likes it!" I protest. "He can't have brussel sprouts seven days a week."

"I'm gonna die of heart disease because of you," Nate gasps, grabbing his chest like he's having a heart attack.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." I mutter, pulling a Cuban out of my front shirt pocket. I realize my mistake too late.

"And you smoke in front of him?" Mom snatches the cigar out of my pocket. "The poor boy is going to drop dead before the age of 30."

"Mom..."

"I thought I raised you better."

She tosses the cigar in the trash. "Ah, come on. Those are expensive," I groan.

"And-" She covers Nate's ears. "-illegal!"

Nate shakes his head with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Shame on you, Sully."

Mom takes a deep breath, about to go off again, but the door bell cuts her off. "Oh, Carrol!"

I shoot Nate a look. "You ratted me out."

He ignores me and asks, "Who's Carrol?"

"My little sister."

I flinch a little at the shrill sound of my sister's voice. "Vickie!" Carrol runs into the kitchen and hugs me around the neck.

"Hey, Sis," I grunt, trying to keep from falling over.

"Uncle Vic!" comes a voice from the hall.

"Blake, Jack! What's up, guys?" Carrol's kids have grown since I last saw them. I put my hands on their heads and scruff up their hair.

"And who's this?" Carrol asks, peering behind me.

"Oh, this is Nate. Nate this is Carrol, Blake, and Jack."

"Hi Nate!" says Jack.

Blake simply waves. He's the quiet one.

"Wanna play Nintendo with us?" Jack asks.

"Uh..." Nate looks over at me, silently asking for permission.

I nod, motioning towards Carrol's boys. "Go on, kid. We'll call you up for dinner later."

He smiles excitedly and runs after the boys. "So..." Carrol starts once the young ones are out of ear shot. "Who's the girl?"

"Girl...?" I frown and try to decifer what she's getting at.

Mom gets there before I do. "There's no girl. Vic's taken in a kid from Columbia. They've been living together for a few months now."

"You adopted an orphan?" she asks incredulously.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure about the orphan part and I haven't technically adopted him, but yeah. I'm looking after him."

"Oh my god! What if he had a disease or something? What if he was a criminal? What if-"

"Look, Carrol, he's fine. And I couldn't leave him. He's just a kid and he's... special, you know?"

"Well, I don't doubt that, but you can't just pick up random kids off the street."

"Love you too, Sis," I say, rolling my eyes.

"No, seriously. Have you had him checked for fleas? Did you ever think about having to taking care of the psychological issues that come with living on the streets?"

"Carrol, lay off your brother," Mom interrupts. "I think it's a good thing he took in that boy. Nate's a sweet little thing."

"Yeah, lay off," I say, grabbing her and rubbing my knuckles over her head like I used to do when we were kids.

"Get off, Vic!" She pushes me off and huffs. "You act like you're five."

Hours later, the food arrives and Mom sends me down to gather the boys. I walk downstairs and hear them chanting, "Go, go, go, go!"

I lean against the couch and watch as Nate hits a button. A little red guy on the screen jumps and hits a flag pole. They cheer and whoop. Nate stands up and does a little victory dance. "Did you see that, Sully?"

"Yeah, great job on... that thing. It's time for dinner, kids."

"Aw, but Sully, I'm on a roll."

"Well, be my guest. If you want tell Grandma you'd rather stay down here and play... whatever this is, go ahead. It's your funeral."

"Come on, guys," Blake speaks up. "We can pause it and come back later."

They race past me and up the stairs. "You boys sound like a herd of elephants," I hear Mom say from upstairs.

The boys sit next to each other at the table talking and laughing like old friends. Well, Jack and Nate do. Blake just smiles. After dinner is dessert. Along with the apple and pumpkin pies, Mom bought a huge ice cream cake. Nate gasps, eyes wide in wonder. "I didn't know you could make ice cream into a cake."

"Genius, right?" I respond. "An excuse to put icing on ice cream."

"Can I have some?"

"Of course, kid. How else are we gonna finish it before it melts?"

He laughs and accepts a plate from Mom.

As everyone heads off to bed, Carrol pulls me off to the side. "I think it's wonderful what you're doing for that boy," she says. "You've put your life in hold and given him someone to look up to."

"Who?" I ask, confused.

"You, dummy." She laughs a little and punches my arm. "I watched him during dinner, and I saw the way he looks at you. You're his hero, Vic."

"What? No, that's-"

"Yes, you are. It's wonderful, but you need to be careful. It'll break him if you leave, so don't go skipping out on him like you did with..." She pauses and swallows hard. "Just... be careful." She walks off to her room, leaving me to my own devices.

I open the all too familiar white door to find him strewn across the covers scribbling in his notebook. He looks up and smiles. "Hey, Sully. Is this your old room?"

Here we go with the questions... "Yeah. I was super into space, as you can tell." Glow in the dark stars are stuck everywhere and model rockets decorate the otherwise empty bookshelf.

"Why did you join the Navy if you wanted to go to space?"

"My dad said I wasn't smart enough to make it."

"Your dad said that?"

"Yeah, but it's okay. I always hated him, so it was nothing new."

"Is he dead?"

"No, my parents divorced about five years back. Who knows where that son of a bitch is now."

"Were you upset?"

"Not really. I guess I was kinda expecting it." I sigh. "Can we please change the topic? This is depressing as hell."

"I thought you said you weren't upset by it."

"That's enough, Nate."

He drops his eyes. "Sorry." Silence. "Sully?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you rub Blake and Jack's heads when they first got here?"

"I don't know. It's just a thing you do to kids."

"Well, why don't you do it to me?"

"You don't usually like to be touched." I smirk and taunt, "Somebody's jealous."

"I'm not jealous," he claims, blushing.

"You want me to mess up your hair?"

"...Maybe."

I walk over to the bed and place both my hands on his head, ruffling his hair. His laugh quickly changes to grunting and growling as I tackle him onto the bed, careful not to hurt him. I pin him to the mattress. "Sully!" he yells, trying to push me off. I don't budge, but instead I lay myself flat over him. "Sully!" His voice is muffled this time. "Sully, get off! I can't breathe!"

I roll over and dutifully endure Nate's fists pounding my back. "I could have died!" he says.

"Don't be such a drama queen," I retort, making sure he can see me rolling my eyes.

He huffs and angrily turns his back on me when I don't react to his little tantrum. Then we crack up together like someone flipped a switch to change the mood. I reach over and scruff up his hair. "Goodnight, kid."

"Goodnight, Sully."

I reach over to the bedside table and am about to switch off the lamp, but someone interrupts me. "Sully?"

Internally, I groan. Externally, I answer, "Yeah, kid?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For letting me meet your family. I've never had a Thanksgiving dinner before. Or a family."

"You're welcome." I choose to ignore the last statement. There's a time and place for that, but it's sure as hell not before falling into a food coma. "Get some sleep. Morning will be here before you know it."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Nate flips over so he's sleeping with his back to me. He takes a minute to settle. I'm finally drifting to sleep when-

"Sully? Where do pumpkins grow?"