Thanksgiving Young and Older
Thanksgiving, 1987
Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin sat in front of the fireplace in the living room of their penthouse apartment waiting for their daughter, Leona Nicole, to arrive from Chicago where she had moved after graduating magna cum laude from Harvard in May. It was one o'clock and the entire place smelled of turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pumpkin and apple pies and all the foods one associates with Thanksgiving. They were dressed casually in slacks and pullover sweaters.
They were both fifty years old. Napoleon's once completely brunet hair now boasted silver temples that made him look quite distinguished. Illya's blond locks sported a few grays sprinkled throughout and he wore glasses all the time. They were still UNCLE employees; against all odds, they had retired from the field ten years earlier and Napoleon was, in fact, Number One, Section One New York and had been since Mr. Waverly's death six years earlier. Illya was Number One, Section Five, Research and Development and spent his workdays developing and improving UNCLE's technology and weaponry.
Illya looked over at Napoleon who was working diligently on a New York Times crossword and asked, "Do you remember our first Thanksgiving with Leona?"
Napoleon put the paper down and sighed, "Like it was yesterday, Tovarisch. Like it was yesterday."
November, 1967
Napoleon and Illya had just managed to get the blueprints for the missile THRUSH had planned to build and escape the satrap before the Russian's expertly placed explosives sent it sky – high. The concussion of the blast sent them flying through the air before landing on top of each other in a tangle of arms and legs faces down in the dirt. Debris rained down on them until they managed to scurry under a tree for protection. When it finally stopped, they stood up and looked at the smoldering pile of steel and cement that used to be THRUSH's Colorado lab.
Brushing himself off vigorously, Napoleon grimaced in distaste. "This suit is ruined! It was my favorite! Did you have to cut it so close?"
Illya was busy wiping dust off his face and out of his hair. He snarled, "Your sartorial splendor was not my concern, Napoleon! Submit your claim for reimbursement when we submit our report."
"I plan to but, you know how Mr. Waverly always complains about the budget, or lack thereof."
Illya checked his weapons and pointed the way to head back to their vehicle. "If you are so concerned about your wardrobe and the Old Man giving you grief when it gets damaged, start buying your suits off the rack like I do." He began walking without looking back, knowing his partner would follow.
Napoleon took three steps and stopped dead in his tracks. "'Off the rack?' Partner Mine, after all the time we have spent together you think I would buy a suit off the rack? I'm horrified! I would rather be naked."
The Russian snorted, "Now, I amhorrified. Come on, it will take us three hours to drive back to UNCLE Denver. There is a 9PM flight to New York and I would like to be on it. I want to see Leona. I miss her."
Illya got in the driver's side and started the car as Napoleon wiped snow off the windows and side mirrors. He got in the car, banged his feet together to clean off some of the snow and dirt before he swung his feet inside and signaled for Illya to drive after he closed his door. "I miss her too, Tovarisch. We've only had her for three months and I really miss her. Who would have thought that would happen?"
They rode in silence for miles, each lost in thought. For once, neither one of them had been captured or seriously injured though it had been a close call shooting their way out of the building. Suddenly, something occurred to Napoleon. "Illya," he said, "Do you realize tomorrow is Thanksgiving? We'll be with Leona for her first American holiday!"
Illya concentrated on the twists and turns of the mountainous road before him. "Hmmm," he replied, "her first and my sixth. I remember the first time I saw a Thanksgiving meal; there was more food on the table than I would have had to eat for a week back in Russia. She is fortunate that she will not remember ever being hungry."
Napoleon smiled and patted his partner's leg. "That she is, my Russian friend, that she is."
MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU
They had arrived at the Denver office and were given a change of clothing before they caught their flight back to New York. After landing at LaGuardia Airport, they were met by a Section Three agent who drove them directly to UNCLE HQ where they reported immediately to Mr. Waverly to hand over the missile blueprints and give a brief synopsis of what had transpired during their affair. They then went to their office where Illya typed up the final report and Napoleon took the opportunity to read and sign off on files that had been accumulating on his desk in his absence.
Napoleon checked his watch and saw that it was almost 10AM. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. It was answered on the third ring. "Lamont, hi, it's Napoleon. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. How is Leona Nicole? Great, that's great. Listen, Illya and I are at HQ and we figured we'll pick her up later this afternoon. To tell you the truth, I'm beat but hold on, let me ask Illya."
Illya had stopped typing when he realized who his partner was speaking with and was looking at Napoleon expectantly.
Napoleon covered the mouthpiece with his hand and said, "Rosie is making dinner and they want to know if we want to join them."
The Russian shook his head, "I am not feeling much like being company. I want to leave here, go home and rest and then pick Leona up and bring her home. Let her have dinner with her aunt and uncle and Paige."
"I feel the same way," Napoleon said and removed his hand to speak to Lamont. "No, thanks, Lamont, we're going to sit this one out. What time do you think she'll be ready to come home? OK, we'll see you then. Tell Rosie we said hello. Bye." He looked at Illya. "They plan to eat dinner early, around 2PM so; we can go get her at five."
Illya nodded as he yanked the completed report out of his typewriter. He signed it and then passed it over to Napoleon for his signature. He took it back, placed it in an interoffice envelope and placed it in his "outgoing" mailbox. He stood up and grabbed his coat off the hook and said over his shoulder, "Let us take our leave, Napoleon, I hear my bed calling me."
MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU
Illya was dreaming that he was swimming with dolphins. They were talking to him in the whistles and squeaks they make and he could understand them. One dolphin in particular seemed insistent about communicating with him; its voice was getting louder each time it spoke until he realized he was hearing the phone ringing. Lunging up from his bed, he reached over and picked up the receiver. "Kuryakin," he muttered.
"Illya, hi, it's Rosie. I'm sorry to bother you…"
Illya sat bolt upright. "Rosie, what is wrong? Is Leona all right?" The clock on his nightstand said it was two – thirty.
He could hear the hesitation in her voice. "Well," she began, "she's been a bit fussy all day. She didn't want the oatmeal I fixed for breakfast; all she would eat was a piece of toast. And now, she's refusing to eat anything at all."
Illya was pulling on his pants, socks and shoes as he spoke. "Is she ill? Does she have a temperature?"
"No, no fever. She just saw Dr. Jameson the other day and she was fine. I think this food is just too foreign for her. I should have just made something else for her…"
"It is not your fault, Rosie, that she is still getting used to American food. I am coming to pick her up. I will be there shortly. Goodbye."
He hung up the phone and pulled on a shirt. Putting on his tie, he knocked on Napoleon's bedroom door and entered. "Napoleon, I am going to get Leona now. Rosie said she is refusing to eat. I will return soon."
Napoleon swung his legs onto the floor. "I'll come with you," he said.
"No, it is not necessary. I will be back soon." And with that, he turned and left.
MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU
Napoleon was sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee when Illya returned with Leona almost two hours later. He walked in with a rather large shopping bag on one arm and the little girl in the other. He handed the toddler off to Napoleon and placed the bag on the counter before removing his coat. Napoleon hugged and kissed his daughter and then began removing her hat and coat. "What's all that?" he asked.
The Russian stepped back in from the foyer and began removing containers from the bag. "Rosie asked if we had eaten and when I said no, she would not let me leave without taking food for dinner. There is light and dark meat turkey, stuffing, gravy, macaroni and cheese, crescent rolls, cranberry sauce, olives, mashed sweet potatoes, yellow turnips, collard greens and slices of apple pie and pumpkin pie and a quart of apple cider."
"Oh, good grief, I'm starving now! Here, take Leona," Napoleon said. He reached into the cabinet and removed two plates. He put some of everything except the pie, olives, celery and cranberry sauce on both, wrapped them in aluminum foil and then filled two pots halfway with water. He sat a plate on top of each pot and turned the flame on medium high. "We should be able to eat in about twenty minutes, Partner." Snapping his fingers, he opened the fridge and took out a container of white rice. Placing some on a third plate, he wrapped that in foil and found another pot to use to warm it up.
Twenty – five minutes later found the two agents polishing off the food Rosie had sent. Leona sat on Napoleon's lap eating the rice he had heated and was feeding her. He had finely chopped up some turkey and some collard greens and mixed it into the rice for her. "You like that, huh, little girl?" he asked her as she took another spoonful into her mouth. She nodded and said, "Yes, Daddy."
Napoleon put his fork down and smiled from ear to ear. "Daddy, you called me Daddy! That's the first time you ever said it. Good girl!" He showered her forehead with kisses. He pointed at the Russian. "Who is that, Leona Nicole? Do you know who that is?"
She looked at the grinning blond and said, "Papa!"
Illya held out his arms and Napoleon handed her to him. "Yes, I am your Papa! That is the first time you have ever called me that! You have made me quite happy, Leona!" She giggled in delight as he tickled her and kissed her cheeks.
Napoleon raised his glass of cider in the air and said, "I propose a toast. To Leona Nicole! You have made this Thanksgiving memorable!"
Illya raised his glass in turn. "I will drink to that! To Leona!" He clinked his glass against his partner's and they drank. He gave a sip to his daughter, kissed her and said, "Not too much for you; I do not want your stomach to be upset. Let us eat the apple pie; I could use a little dessert."
Thanksgiving, 1987
They heard the key go into the lock and the door open. "Dad! Pop? Where are you guys?"
"Don't shout the house down!" Napoleon answered. "We're in the living room." He stood up just in time to be almost knocked down by Leona racing in and giving him a huge hug and kisses on both cheeks. "Careful, I'm an old man!"
"You will never be an old man, Dad! And, neither will you!" she exclaimed as she launched herself onto the couch next to her other father and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his temple. "I missed you both so much!"
Illya kissed and hugged her back and said, "We have missed you too, Daughter. I hope you are hungry because I am ready to eat."
Leona laughed, "You're always ready to eat, Pop. Come on, then. I've brought dessert: Apple and pumpkin pies. And, rum raisin ice cream."
Napoleon said, "I remember when you wouldn't eat that sort of thing."
She stood up and put her arm through her Dad's and replied, "That must have been a long, long time ago because I love pie and ice cream now."
Illya stood and put her other arm through his. "Sometimes, it seems like yesterday, Leona Nicole," he said, "it seems like yesterday."