Hank Booth glanced at the clock that was sitting on the side table next to his recliner in his small apartment. 11:30 am...Shrimp would be here within the half hour to share a birthday lunch with him at the retirement center. Smiling happily, Hank pulled on his best navy blue cardigan sweater over his colorful plaid shirt and he slipped into his good pair of khaki pants. He checked himself out in the mirror above his dresser, chuckling as he smoothed down his hair and winked at his reflection. "Mamie Flaherty better keep an eye on you today, buddy boy. It looks like you still got it, doesn't it, you sly dog!"
Hank glanced at the bright, colorful birthday cards that were propped up on his dresser as he got ready to head over to the dining room for his birthday meal. Living at the retirement center hadn't been his first choice, but he was slowly adjusting to it. He really missed being in his own tidy rowhouse in the pleasant Philadelphia neighborhood where he and his wife had lived happily for many years, but that just didn't fit his needs anymore. His wife...he lovingly touched her picture in its gilt frame...his lovely Martha...had passed away last year. He had wanted to stay in his own home...He had wanted to keep her memory alive in that house, but he had a bad ticker and bum knees, and navigating the stairs up to his bedroom every evening and then down again in the morning had become too much for his failing health to handle. He had decided to be practical instead of sentimental, so with his grandsons' blessing, he'd sold the house and almost all of his worldly possessions except for the few things that he kept for his new apartment at the center. His life was now easier to manage, and he'd made several new friends over the last few months that he'd been living there. Over all he was coping well with all the many changes in his life, but he knew in his heart he had to go all out to celebrate his birthday this year, remembering how Martha had enjoyed fussing over him every year on his birthday, making his favorite homemade spaghetti dinner, and topping it off with his favorite cake for dessert. He had been thrilled when Shrimp had called to say he was going to visit his grandfather on his birthday.
Hank reached over to pick up one of the cards that had fallen over on his dresser and brushed against another picture frame. This one held a picture of Shrimp and Jared when they were kids, probably about ages 11 and 6. It had been taken the first Christmas after the boys had moved in Hank and his wife. He picked up the frame and studied the picture closely once again, shaking his head slightly. For some reason he never completely understood, Hank almost never heard anything from Jared, and it still bothered him from time to time. He'd tried to do his best by the boy, but Jared was too stubborn to listen to anybody about anything. Jared had pulled the 'you're not my father' card several times as he was growing up in Hank's house, and it seemed even as a young man he could never grasp the reasons he'd had to leave his father's house to move in with his grandparents. Jared had been a handful as a teen-ager: he could be quite charming if it suited his purpose, but more often than not, he was sullen, rude, and resentful toward his grandparents.
Seeley, on the other hand, was just as stubborn as his younger brother, but he'd usually listen to logic and reason. He seemed to have a gentler, more sensitive nature than Jared, although he was very protective of his younger brother. The boy had understood what Jared never could...they had been in a dangerous situation while they were living with their father, and they were finally safe with their grandparents. He wasn't as prone to take a side in an argument just to be difficult as Jared was, but it seemed that once Seeley had made up his mind, it took an act of God to change it. That willingness to stick to his guns, no matter what, was what had made Shrimp a successful FBI agent. Hank cringed as he set the picture frame back on the dresser. That stubborn streak had gotten Shrimp in trouble more than once, too...and it had kept him from seeing the truth about his relationship with Rebecca. If Seeley had just listened to his grandfather, the whole crummy situation with her could've been avoided...although, Hank had to admit, Parker was a great kid, and he was a very proud great grandfather, even if he didn't get to see his great grandson as often as he wished. Rebecca was stingy with her visitation arrangements, and Shrimp didn't want to make waves with her. Sighing softly, Hank resolutely set his face in a smile. He was going to be happy to see his grandson, and they were going to have a great time together this afternoon.
Walking quickly through the center's common parlor, Hank found a seat on the bench in the center's foyer. Shrimp would be there any minute. He hoped Seeley wouldn't be too disappointed in the meal that was going to be served for lunch. Most of the food there was good, but he knew that Shrimp was going to miss the spaghetti with meatballs, the homemade garlic bread and the cake his Nana used to make for his grandfather's birthday. Hank was lost in thought, remembering how cute his wife had looked covered in flour as she made her homemade pasta, when he was roused by a familiar voice.
"Pops...hey, you're not taking a nap already, are you? You must have had too much fun for your birthday this morning." Seeley Booth pulled his grandfather into a bear hug and slapped him gently on the back. "How have you been? Are you adjusting to your new place?"
"Things are great, Shrimp! Hey, we'd better go check out the chow line. I want to make sure I get some cranberry sauce with my special turkey dinner. I hope you're hungry." Pops poked Booth playfully in the ribs. "You look like you've lost weight. You're way too skinny." Hank and Booth walked into the cheerful dining room and looked over the day's selections before finding their table. "I thought you said you were fully recovered from having your brain surgery."
"I am, Pops, but, you know, I gotta keep down to my fighting weight so I can catch all those bad guys." They nodded pleasantly at the server who brought their plates. "I'm pretty much healed and back to one hundred percent, except I'm a little forgetful now and then." Booth sat thoughtfully a few minutes before explaining the after effects of his surgery to his grandfather. He didn't want his grandfather to worry about him. "Bones helped me write down some directions to keep in my pocket in case I forgot which train to take when I got to the station this morning. There's a lot of annoying stupid crap like forgetting I like brown sugar on my oatmeal, and that I like to wear my cocky belt buckle and my wild socks and crazy ties, but Bones says that's perfectly normal in brain tumor cases like this. Thank God, I didn't forget how to drive, or anything real important like that, so I can still work, even though I did miss the fact that a guy was lying during a murder investigation. It was a good thing I had Bones with me in the interrogation room that day, or the bum would've gotten away with murder. Bones says I've got to be patient, and that I'll finally be back to normal soon, but we all know I'm not very good at that kind of thing…"
Four times Shrimp had mentioned this Bones fella, Hank thought. Who the hell is Bones? Must be his new partner...
"Bones must be a great guy to do all that kind of stuff for you. Must be a helluva skinny guy, too, to have a nickname like that…" Hank picked up a bite of turkey with his fork and gestured with it toward his grandson. "Yes sir, those kind of guys are the best kind of guys. Always got your back, you know? Remember, I told you about Litton in the service with me in Korea? He was that kind of guy. There was this one time…"
Booth cringed slightly at the mention of Litton. As much as he loved his grandfather, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear about Ben Litton for the thousandth time. Clearing his throat, he quietly interrupted his grandfather's story. "Bones isn't a great guy…"
"What? Sure he is. I bet he's a great guy...helping you like that…"
"Pops, Bones...my partner is a woman." Booth decided to concentrate on eating his mashed potatoes, suddenly feeling awkward as he explained things to his grandfather. "She's a forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian, but she works with the FBI. I'm the FBI's liaison, so she's partnered with me. Remember? She's the one who's always going on expeditions to dig up Incas and Aztecs on her Christmas vacations. Sometimes she goes to identify victims of genocide. This summer she's going to study some native group in South America. She likes to look at bones, so I gave her that nickname."
"Yeah, those scientist types are usually odd ducks. That doesn't sound like a good way to spend Christmas or summer vacation to me." Hank grinned at the idea of his grandson being stuck with some elderly professor... like a Margaret Mead type. Hank was pretty sure Seeley wouldn't be happy with that. "Well, I guess her husband probably doesn't like that too well either, but at least you can make sure it just stays buddy-buddy between you two. You probably don't have to worry about being distracted by a pretty face while you're working."
And that was when Hank saw it...the fleeting expression of affection and happiness that accompanied the slight blush on his grandson's face. This was different and unexpected...the last time Shrimp had blushed like this was when he announced at dinner one evening many years ago that he was taking Sherrai Bellipini to the prom. Even when he was with Rebecca, Seeley didn't react like this...like a shy, nervous teenager. Was his boy Shrimp in love?
"Bones isn't married, Pops, and as far as the pretty face goes…" Booth grimaced and shuddered slightly as he felt himself blushing. So much for being cool and calm. "She's very attractive...actually she's absolutely gorgeous. Big blue eyes, long, silky brown hair, and this perfect, smooth skin...she looks great even without makeup...even early in the morning right after she gets out of bed…"
Hank arched an eyebrow at his grandson. "How often do you get to see her like that? What kind of partners are you?"
Booth knew his ears were turning bright red...as red as the carnations in the crystal vase sitting on their table. "I saw her like that because I went to pick her up for work early one morning and she wasn't ready yet. We're just partners, Pops. We work together, that's all."
"Must be a skinny little thing if you call her Bones." Hank was watching Shrimp from the corner of his eye as he buttered his roll. "Not much meat on her, I guess. Myself, I kind of like a curvy woman, like your Nana…"
"Pops!" Booth bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Judging by the way Pops was chatting with all the ladies who stopped by their table to wish him a happy birthday, Booth knew that Pops was going to have his pick of curvy women at the retirement center. "Bones is definitely not a skinny little thing." A dreamy look flitted across his face as he thought once again of his beautiful partner. "She's got a really, really nice figure...she's very well put together...but that's beside the point. We're just partners, and we're just friends, okay? She's helped me out a lot getting over my surgery these last few months, and Parker likes her, so she helped me out with him. We usually get a bite to eat after we close a case, or have coffee at this diner we like, but it's not like we go out on dates, or anything serious. It's not like that…"
Hank heard the hint of longing in Seeley's voice. He and this Bones lady might be work partners, but now one thing was very clear to Hank. Shrimp was very much in love with the woman he was working with. It wasn't one of those 'do the right thing' kind of love affairs like it had been with Rebecca. It wasn't the 'pretty face and well stacked' kind of love affairs like it had been with Tessa and Camille. It was the real kind of love...the kind of love that leads to 30, or 40, or, if you're lucky, 50 years.
"Okay, Shrimp, I get it." Hank stirred some sugar into his coffee, watching as the younger man across the table from him attacked his pie. "You're friends. So Bones...does she have a real name?"
"Temperance. Temperance Brennan." Booth took a sip of his coffee. "You may have heard of her. She writes mystery novels."
"Shhh! Don't say that so loud or every old lady in the joint will be over here begging for autographs. You work with Temperance Brennan? Say...are you Andy Lister?" Pops grinned as he watched his grandson squirm a bit. "You are, aren't you? Hey, I may tell some of the ladies that my grandson is Andy Lister. That might help me in the crocheting department."
"What?" Booth looked confused as he drained his coffee cup. After seeing the sly grin that crept across his grandfather's face, he decided he didn't really want to know what Hank meant by crocheting. "Never mind. Here...I brought you some presents for your birthday." He grinned as he pulled three small boxes from his coat. "This one's from Parker…"
It was a school picture of his great grandson in a silver frame. "This kid looks just like you, Shrimp. He's a fine boy. What's this...a new watch?"
"Yep, and some new wool socks. It can't be a birthday party without socks, right? That's what Nana always said." Booth smiled wistfully as they rose from the table. "I know you miss her, Pops, but I want you to know that you're never gonna be alone. You'll always have me, no matter what." He hugged his grandfather gently before guiding him out of the dining room.
"Thanks, son." Hank brushed away a tear and sniffled quietly. "Damn allergies. Hey, what d'ya say about us playing a couple of games of dominos and drinking some Irish coffee? Check that piece of paper your lady friend gave you. You've got a couple of hours before you have to catch the train, right?"
Rolling his eyes, Booth looked over his itinerary and gave his grandfather a broad grin. "I don't have to be at the station for about four hours, Pops. Prepare to get your ass kicked at dominos, old man."
"I don't think so…" Hank Booth grinned as he and his grandson walked to the parlor to set up the game. He knew Martha would agree...even without her to help him celebrate this birthday, Hank Booth knew he was a very blessed man.