Bill tied Mattlock's little necktie around his own neck and took it off, and then slipped it over Mattlock's head, and around his upturned shirt collar. He buttoned Mattlock's top button while he stood fidgeting, and then tightened the necktie and flattened down his collar. "There," Bill said, inspecting his work visually and feeling around the back of Mattlock's collar.
"Are you done, Daddy?" Mattlock asked.
"Sure am, son," Bill said. Bill stood back and surveyed Mattlock. "You look like you could come to work with me on Monday. So professional," he said with a smile.
Mattlock looked down at himself in his black slacks, white button-down, long-sleeved shirt with a black tie and his shiny black shoes. Then, he looked back up at Bill, stuffed his hands in his pockets and raised his chin with pride and smiled broadly at Bill. Bill rubbed Mattlock's hair vigorously.
"Daddy, I'll have to comb my hair again," Mattlock said, smoothing his wavy brown hair down with his hands.
"Sorry, Mattlock," Bill said, and approached him to fix his hair.
"I'll do it, Daddy," Mattlock said with a slight rasp to his voice, and continued patting his hair down.
"Are you losing your voice, son?" Bill asked.
"It's scratchy," Mattlock replied.
"Well, it is spring. Probably the pollen in the air," Bill surmised. He felt his forehead with his hand. "You don't have a fever. That's probably what it is. Go on downstairs and play in the living room while I finish getting ready. The Parsons will be here soon."
Mattlock ran down the stairs and sat down to read issue #118 of his Dick Tracy comic books. He sat with his back against the cushions of the couch with his legs straight out over the edge. He wore a suspenseful look on his face as he slowly leafed through the pages. Bill finished getting dressed for their formal dinner with the Parsons. Sergei prepared dinner in the kitchen while singing to himself as he often did.
Moments later, Bill came downstairs in a shirt and tie and slacks and sat down next to Mattlock and shook out his newspaper to read it.
"Why do we have to be dressed up, Daddy?" Mattlock asked. "It's just C.J. and her Momma and Daddy."
"Well….This is the Parsons' first time coming to our house for a formal dinner, so we are dressed formally," Bill replied.
Mattlock looked at him with a confused expression.
Bill continued, "We dress up because this is a special occasion."
"Oh," Mattlock replied, and returned to reading his comic. Bill patted him on the shoulder and walked into the kitchen.
"How's dinner coming, Sergei?" Bill asked.
"Right on time," Sergei said.
"You told me we're having French tonight. What are the different courses?" Bill asked as he stirred the soup. Sergei, gently took the spoon from Bill's hand and quietly shook his finger at him in admonishment. Bill smiled and put his hands in his pockets.
"You'll be starting with gougères. The soup will be squash with anise. Then you'll have artichoke a la barigoule. For the main course, you'll have smoked goose with chestnut risotto. Finally, I've made two desserts from which to choose: gingerbread with caramel apples and lemon curd tart with elderberries," Sergei listed.
"Mmmmm, Sergei….You've outdone yourself again," Bill replied.
"Thank you. I hope everyone likes the food," Sergei said.
"How could they not?" Bill asked.
Sergei removed his apron and said, "I'm going to change my shirt and clean up a bit so I can be presentable when I serve the food. I'll be right back."
"Okay. I'll keep an eye on everything here," Bill reassured.
"Just so long as it is your eye…," Sergei warned. Bill smiled and sat down at the kitchen table and looked at his mail.
The doorbell rang. Mattlock yelled excitedly from the living room, "Daddy, C.J.'s here!" Bill got up and walked into the living room. Mattlock was standing up straight by the couch, waiting to greet their guests. Bill walked past him and to the front door.
Bill opened the door. "Welcome! C'mon in."
Cynthia entered first, holding C.J.'s hand, with Roger close behind. Roger shook Bill's hand. "Thanks again for inviting us, Bill," Roger said.
"Yes, Bill," Cynthia said, looking around at the interior of the Houston mansion. "Thanks."
Mattlock walked up to C.J. "C.J., do you want to come up to my room?" he asked.
"Sure!" she replied. Mattlock gestured to her to come with him and they both ran up the stairs.
Bill interrupted. "Now, dinner's going to be ready soon, Mattlock."
"I know, Daddy. We'll be right back," he assured his father as he looked back over his shoulder.
"Alright," Bill replied and smiled as the two headed up the stairs to his room.
"Well, why don't we sit down and talk for a bit," Bill said, gesturing to the living room furniture. He let them walk ahead and when he got to the couch, he picked up Mattlock's comic off of it and placed it on the coffee table.
As Roger sat down, he said, "Dick Tracy, huh?"
"Oh yes. He's read every one of them," Bill replied as he sat down.
"It smells amazing in here," Cynthia said, sitting next to Roger on a loveseat.
"Sergei's prepared a special French meal for us," Bill said.
"I can't wait to try his cooking," she replied. "Cady has told us how much Matt likes it."
"How's the practice, Roger?" Bill asked.
"Never better. Nothing too taxing lately," he replied.
"How about you, Cynthia?" Bill asked.
"Wish I could say the same. A doctor's work is never done," she said with a smile.
"Anything interesting?" Bill continued.
"Not so much at work, but in the field of biomedical technology. I've been reading about early advancements in the artificial heart. Lots of work still to go on that one, but interesting to read about," she replied.
"That will save a lot of lives, no doubt," Bill said.
"That is the hope," she replied.
Sergei emerged from the kitchen to the living room, dressed in a newly pressed chef's shirt and black slacks. "Good evening, everyone. If you'll take your places in the dining room, I'll soon be serving up the first course of dinner."
"Thanks, Sergei," Bill replied. Bill stood up, and just when he was going to yell for the children, the two were already coming down the stairs. Bill looked over at them. "Children, we're going to the dining room. Sergei's ready for us."
"Okay, Daddy," Mattlock said, as he let C.J. walk ahead of him to the dining room, following the adults.
Bill and Mattlock were the last to file into the dining room. Everyone stood around the table. "Take any seat you want," Bill said.
Roger pulled out a chair for Cynthia, who sat down. Mattlock watched intently, and pulled out a chair for C.J., who looked at him perplexedly while the adults all smirked at each other. C.J. sat down, and then Mattlock. After Roger sat down, Bill took his seat at the head of the table. Everyone had a complete place setting that featured Rebecca's family China and silverware. Sergei leaned over the children and lit the two candles on the table.
"Help yourselves to the gougères," Sergei said as he motioned to the basket of French pastries in the center of the table. "I'll be back with the soup," he said as he went back to the kitchen.
Bill took the basket and handed it to Cynthia, who passed it to the others around the table.
"So, Matt…Are you glad that you're out of school?" Roger asked.
"Yes!" Mattlock exclaimed.
"What are you going to do with yourself?" Roger asked.
"I'm going to ride horses, and play with Champ, and play in my tree house, and go exploring," Mattlock rattled off.
"His cousin Will is coming for a visit," Bill said.
"Oh?" Roger said. "Are your brother and sister-in-law coming to stay as well?"
"Roy and Flo will stay for a day or so, but then they'll leave Will behind to stay for three weeks. It will be the longest time Will has stayed here. The boys are going to love it," Bill said.
"I imagine so," Roger replied. "Do Roy and Flo have any plans?"
"They were talking about taking a drive up to Santa Fe, and spend some time there. I think Roy was hoping to work on his new book some, while Will is here," Bill said.
"What's he working on?" Roger asked.
"A spy novel. Something called The Five Fingers," Bill replied.
"What's a spy novel, Daddy?" Mattlock asked.
"Well, son," Bill said, turning to Mattlock. "It's a book about men who work for the government. They go undercover in disguise and try to find out who the bad guys are and what they're up to. These days, spies are involved in stopping Communism, mostly."
"That sounds fun. What's Communism?" Mattlock asked.
"That's a little more complicated," Bill said.
"So, you like Dick Tracy, huh, Matt?" Roger asked.
"Uh-huh," Mattlock replied.
"Do you think you might want to be a detective when you grow up?" Roger asked.
"Maybe," Mattlock replied. "I've read all the comics," he said with a smile.
"That's what your dad told me," Roger said. "Comic books weren't around when I was your age. Superman came out when I was in my early twenties."
"You can borrow some of mine, if you want," Mattlock said.
Cynthia smiled. "Yeah, Roger. You should take him up on it and catch up on those missed opportunities in childhood."
"I just might. You're never too old," Roger replied. "Thanks, Matt. That's very nice of you to offer."
Sergei entered the dining room with a soup tureen on a cart. He began ladling soup into everyone's bowls. Once everyone was served, Sergei left with the cart and they all tried the soup.
"How did your grades come out at the end of the year, C.J.?" Bill asked.
"She got all A's," Mattlock said, with faint chagrin in his voice.
"Now son, what have I told you about letting C.J. answer for herself," Bill said firmly but kindly.
"Sorry," Mattlock replied. Cynthia and Roger smiled at each other.
"I got all A's, like Matt said, Mr. Houston," C.J. replied.
"That's very good. Did you find that you had a favorite subject?" Bill asked.
"I like writing a lot. Most subjects aren't that hard, and writing isn't hard either, but when the teacher gives us an assignment, I can write how I want," C.J. replied.
"You mean you have the freedom to create, and the other subjects have set answers?" Bill asked for clarification.
"I guess," C.J. replied.
Sergei returned to the dining room to refill everyone's drinks.
Cynthia asked, "Sergei, do I detect a hint of licorice flavor in this soup?"
As Sergei was refilling Roger's drink, he replied, "Yes Madame, it's the anise."
"Interesting. I usually don't care for the flavor, but in this soup, it's very nice," Cynthia replied.
"Glad you like it, Madame," Sergei replied. "How is everyone else finding the soup?"
"It's weird," Matt said. C.J. looked at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled. "It tastes a little like Twizzler's."
"That's the anise, Mattlock. Anise is what makes the flavor of black licorice and Twizzler's is licorice flavored," Bill said.
"Oh," Mattlock said, and turned to Sergei. "Is there any chicken soup in the kitchen instead?"
Sergei smiled. "Afraid not, Mattlock," he said.
"You don't have to finish it if you don't like it, son. I'm sure Sergei won't mind since licorice is an acquired taste," Bill said.
"Not at all, Mattlock," Sergei said.
Mattlock put his spoon down and pushed his bowl forward. C.J. looked sheepish, and quietly did the same. They both smiled at each other. Sergei took both of their bowls away and the children continued eating what was left of the gougères.
"Now don't fill up on those pastries, kids," Bill warned. "What are your plans for the summer, C.J.?"
C.J. perked up. "Julia and I are going to go to the zoo and museum and play a lot at each other's houses."
"And how is Julia?" Bill asked.
"She's fine. She gets out of school next week. They go longer than we do," C.J. replied.
"That's great," Bill said. "I'm sure you two will make the most of your summer."
"We're going to go on our first family vacation," Roger said.
"Your first?" Bill said with surprise.
"I'm afraid so," Roger said, looking at Cynthia.
"You look at me as if it's my fault," Cynthia said smiling while feigning outrage.
"I can leave anytime. I work for myself," Roger said and then winked at her. "She's taking the time off for the first time since Cady was a baby. Well, this length of time."
"Well, Roger and I have been working, and Cady's been in school, so…" Cynthia said.
"Face it, Honey...You care a lot about your patients," Roger said. "You could take the time off anytime."
"Well, that's very noble. I'm sure it's easy to become exhausted in your line of work, Cynthia. It's probably good to take some extended time off for your own health. You can't be there for your patients if you're not taking care of yourself," Bill said.
"That's what I've been telling her," Roger agreed.
"Alright, alright, you two. I'm going on vacation," Cynthia said.
"Where are you going?" Bill asked.
"Galveston," Roger said.
Bill looked at Cynthia with a surprised look on his face. "Well, that's not very far away. Don't you want to go somewhere further away from your cares?"
"One step at a time, Bill. I could only get her to agree to go if we stayed close for emergencies," Roger said, and put his arm around Cynthia's shoulders.
"What do you plan on doing in Galveston?" Bill asked.
"I suspect we'll spend a lot of time at the beach. Cady's never seen the ocean. I haven't seen it since I first moved to Houston," Roger said.
"I think I was a teenager," Cynthia said.
"You've lived in Houston all your life, Cynthia. That surprises me," Bill said. "I'm glad you're taking the time off."
"I was in school, then residency, then working. I'm afraid I didn't make time," Cynthia said.
"I understand," Bill replied.
C.J. said, "I wish I could bring Julia."
"It's a family vacation, Baby," Roger said. "We've talked about this."
Sergei entered the dining room with a tray and began removing the empty bowls of soup.
"I really liked the soup, Sergei. Thank you," Cynthia said.
"You're welcome, Madame," he said. He finished gathering the bowls and left. Moments later, he came back with a large bowl on the cart. He began serving up the dish. "This is artichoke a la barigoule. It has fresh garlic, parsley, onion, carrot, and celery, white wine, chicken broth, lemon juice, and of course, artichoke hearts," Sergei described.
"Mmmm. I love artichokes," Cynthia said while straining to look in the bowl from which Sergei was serving.
"Speaking of hearts, tell me more about advancements in the artificial heart. That sounds very interesting," Bill said.
"Well, there's a doctor named Kolff and a doctor named Akutzu and they were able to implant an artificial heart into a dog and he survived for ninety minutes," Cynthia said.
Mattlock dropped his fork next to his plate and had a look of shock on his face. "The dog died?" he asked.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Matt. I probably shouldn't be talking about this over dinner," Cynthia said.
"It's alright," Bill said, and patted a sad-looking Mattlock on the back. "That's pretty remarkable."
"Yes it is. Kolff is a very interesting man. He's originally from the Netherlands. He's worked on the artificial kidney and started the first blood bank in Europe. Of course, the problem with artificial organs is that the body tends to reject them. If we can just figure out how to fix that, we're going to save a lot of lives," Cynthia said.
"I can see why you find your work so important. I find my work important, but I'm not saving any lives. I think if I was, I would definitely feel more invested than I already am," Bill said.
"There was a time when I wanted to be a medical scientist working in a laboratory somewhere. I envisioned myself working on cures for illnesses," Cynthia said.
"What made you want to work in a hospital setting?" Bill asked.
"At the end of the day, I realized I like people and I like helping them directly," Cynthia replied.
Mattlock cleared his throat.
"Your throat still bothering you, son?" Bill asked.
Mattlock cleared his throat again and nodded up and down.
Bill said, "He's had an irritated throat today. Probably allergies. He doesn't have a fever or anything."
"Oh. Well. That is a problem right now. Let me know if you need anything and I'll get it for you," Cynthia said.
"Thank you. I appreciate it," Bill said. "Have a drink, son," he said as he put his arm around Mattlock's shoulders. Mattlock drank some of his milk as Bill suggested. C.J. observed Matt closely with some concern on her face. Mattlock smiled at her with a milk mustache when he was done, and she smiled back at him and pointed at her own face to tell him about the milk on his. He wiped it off and smiled again. Roger watched them with a smile on his face while Cynthia and Bill looked at their plates and ate.
A while later Sergei brought the main course. "For the main course, we have smoked goose with chestnut risotto," he announced.
"That looks and smells, fantastic, Sergei," Roger said.
"Thank you, Sir," Sergei said. He served up the main course to everyone at the table.
"I don't remember the last time I had goose," Cynthia said.
"Me neither," Roger said.
"Sergei's smoked goose is terrific," Bill said.
"Everything has been, so far," Cynthia said.
"Roger, tell me…what's something you're working on right now?" Bill asked.
"I'm helping an insurance inspection and auditing business get started. I told you…nothing earth shattering," Roger said.
"So, auto inspections, then?" Bill asked.
"Yes. But roof and home inspections too," Roger replied.
"I'm sure they'll be successful. There's been a consistent housing boom since the boys came home from the war and it doesn't seem to be slowing down," Bill said. Mattlock cleared this throat and coughed a couple of times. Bill patted him on the back. "I didn't ask how long you'd be in Galveston," he said.
"We're hoping to spend a week or more," Roger said.
"Well, C.J., what do you hope to do in Galveston?" Bill asked.
She sat up straight and enthused, "I want to walk on the beach and collect sea shells and swim in the ocean."
"The whole time?" Bill asked with a smile.
"Every day," she confirmed, beaming ear to ear.
"I'm sure we'll come back with a bucket of sea shells at least. I love swimming in the Gulf. It's so warm," Roger said. "Cady is going to love it."
"I remember the seaweed around my ankles. I can do without that," Cynthia said. "But I do remember the wonderfully warm, salty water."
"When's Will coming?" Roger asked.
"Most of July," Bill replied.
"Oh. That's when we'll be going to Galveston. I guess Cady won't get to meet Will this time," Roger said.
"There will be other times," Bill reassured.
After a while, Sergei brought out the two choices for desserts and everyone made their choices and enjoyed the final course of his French cooking.
Matt cleared his throat again after dessert was over. "I'm tired, Daddy," he said.
"Son, it's just 7 o'clock," Bill replied with his arm around his shoulders again.
"I don't feel well," he replied.
"Bill, we can go if you need to take care of Matt," Roger said. "We'll have dinner again soon…. My treat; though, I can't guarantee cooking like this. This was outstanding."
Bill felt Mattlock's forehead again. "Still no fever," he said. "Okay, son, why don't you go upstairs and get ready for bed and I'll see the Parsons out and come tuck you in."
"Okay, Daddy," Mattlock said. He got off his chair and C.J. got out of hers at the same time and hugged him.
"I hope you feel better Matt," she said.
He looked surprised, but smiled slightly at the hug from his friend. "Thanks, C.J. Goodnight," he said, and sluggishly walked away.
"Goodnight Matt," Roger said. "Feel better."
"Yes, Matt," Cynthia said, and then quietly said to Bill, "Again…let me know if you need anything."
"See what I mean," Roger said to Bill. "She can't help herself."
"Thanks, Cynthia. I'm sure he's fine. At worst, it's probably a spring cold," Bill said.
After Mattlock went up to his room, Bill walked the Parsons to the door. Sergei joined them.
"Thanks for coming and sorry it was cut short," Bill said.
"Not a problem, Bill," Roger said. "Thanks for having us," he said as he shook Bill's hand. "And Sergei…Thanks for the wonderful meal."
"Yes, Sergei. Positively delicious," Cynthia said.
"I liked the gingerbread the best!" C.J. exclaimed.
Sergei leaned over, smiled, and took C.J.'s hand. "Well, thank you Miss C.J. Glad you enjoyed it. I hope you join us again sometime," he said.
"Yes, C.J. You're welcome anytime," Bill said with a smile.
"Thanks Mr. Houston," C.J. replied.
The Parsons walked out the door and after Bill closed it, Sergei said, "I like that little C.J. So smart, polite, and charming."
"Yes she is," Bill said. "Thanks for the excellent meal and helping me co-host," Bill said as he patted Sergei on the back. "I'm going to go check on Mattlock."
"I'll go clean up," Sergei replied.
Bill walked up the steps to the landing and into Mattlock's bedroom. He was lying on his side in bed facing the door with his eyes closed. Bill walked up to him and sat on the edge of his bed and stroked his hair and felt his forehead again. "Still no fever," he said. "How are you feeling, son?"
"Tired and my throat hurts," he replied.
"I'll get you some Tylenol Elixir in a bit," Bill said.
"Okay, Daddy," he replied.
"Did you have a good time before you started feeling badly?" Bill asked.
"Yes," Mattlock said.
"That was nice of C.J. to hug you. Wasn't it?" Bill said.
"Uh-huh. She's nice, Daddy. That's why she's my friend," Mattlock said.
"Did you two ever talk about that kiss you planted on her?" Bill asked with a smile.
"No. I don't think she liked it. I'm just glad we're still friends," Mattlock said.
"Well…friends are very important. Some say they are the measure of a man. I agree. C.J. seems like a good friend," Bill said.
"She is," Mattlock said.
"Then that's all that matters. Just remember that friends are friends because they are always there for each other no matter what. Anyone who isn't there for you, isn't your friend." He continued, " I like C.J. and her family. You're good at picking friends. I'm proud of you, son. I'll go get you the medicine and some water to keep by your bed." Bill pulled the blankets up over Mattlock's shoulders, left, and moments later, brought back the water and medicine.