The Third Blessing
By Dragon's Daughter 1980
Disclaimer: Other than being a loyal fan, I have nothing to do with Numb3rs.
Author's Notes: This was written originally as part of the Fifteen Minute Challenge at the forum for the prompt word Hanukah. The title for this piece comes from the fact that two blessings are recited every night of Hanukah, but on the first night, an additional blessing is recited. The article I read called it the third blessing, as I do here.
I would also like to take this opportunity to wish all my readers and reviewers a Happy Holidays and Happy New Year! Thank you so much for your comments and readership this past year.
"Alan?" The swinging door of the kitchen creaked open.
"Yes?" He studiously polished away a smudge of tarnish on the smooth metal. It had been carefully packed away for years, ever since the year when Charlie was two and knocked it over, nearly setting the kitchen table on fire. There were still the faint scorch marks on the wood to prove it. Besides, they had never been an overly religious family.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing," he answered. He didn't need to turn around from the kitchen sink to see Margaret's skeptical expression. There was a moment of silence before he heard the swinging door squeak again and her footsteps walk away. He lovingly ran a soft cloth over the Chanukiah.
He had his reasons.
*~*~*~*~*
He didn't look away from the lit candles of the Chanukiah when he heard her enter the darkened living room. Her hands settled gently on his shoulders. There was a long silence before she said quietly, "He's going to be fine."
Alan didn't respond directly to her words. Instead, he whispered under his breath, "Baruch ata Adonai, elohanu melech ha olam, sheheheyanu, v'kiyimanu, v'higiyanu, lazman ha zeh."
Her hands slipped away from his shoulders and she settled onto the ottoman next to him. Her brunette curls shimmered in the light of the flickering flames as she turned to look at him.
"It's not your fault," she said.
"What if he's just lashing out?"
"As impulsive as both of you are, neither of you make commitments of this magnitude without thinking it through first."
"He could die," he responded, voicing his deepest fear. She flinched, but said steadily, "He's good at what he does."
"But he's a cop, Margaret."
"And he's our son."
"I know."
"I looked up the national averages," he said after a long pause.
"What did they tell you?" He knew it was a rhetorical question.
"Why couldn't he have stayed in baseball?"
"You know him, and he is right. Do you really think that baseball would make full use of his talents?"
"Baseball won't get him killed."
"No one is saying that working for the FBI will."
"Margaret, he's carrying a gun, he's chasing violent criminals for a living, scum who won't hesitate to shoot at him." Alan tried to keep the terror out of his voice. "I don't care how good of a cop he is, I don't care how high of marks he's gotten in tactical weapons training, I don't care what kind of protection he has or what he's doing every other day, he's my son and people are going to be shooting at him. They could kill him Margaret, and there's no way that I can be all right with that. Ever."
"No one ever said that you had to be."
"You're not helping."
"What do you want me to say, Alan? That I think he shouldn't have applied to the FBI either? That he should have stayed in the minor leagues for the rest of his life? That he should have applied to law school instead? Alan, it's not our life; it's his. We both know how unhappy he's been in the minor leagues. He's got a law degree, and he's physically active, and the FBI will let him use the full range of his talents. He's going to make a difference, even if it's not in the ways that we had hoped he would.
"We've supported Charlie in everything he's done, and Don's… Don's had to fend for himself. For me, I guess… I guess we've lost the right to say what he can and can't do a long time ago. It's our turn to support him, without questions. He can take care of himself, no matter what. I tell myself that over and over again."
"Is it working?"
"No."
"I just…" he trailed off.
"I know." She put a hand on his knee in a comforting gesture. "I think he knows too."
*~*~*~*~*
"Hey, Charlie…"
"Yeah, Don?" The mathematician continued to scribble on his students' midterms as his agent brother sat down at the dining room table.
"…I don't remember us celebrating Hanukah when we were kids. When did Dad haul out the menorah?"
"Er…" Charlie paused in his grading and looked up at his brother, "why are you asking?"
Don shrugged, "Just curious. I mean, I remember the Christmas tree because Mom wanted it, but I don't remember us ever lighting the menorah."
"That's because we stopped when Charlie was two," answered Alan, walking into the dining room from the kitchen. He put down his sandwich plate and looked at his younger son, "You probably don't remember this, but your mother decided it wasn't safe anymore after you nearly set the house on fire. And it's called chanukiah in Hebrew."
"Really?" Don gave his brother an appraising look, "Does Amita know about this?"
Charlie gave him a dirty look while Alan just shook his head. He was used to this sort of behavior from his sons.
"So Dad, when did we start celebrating Hanukah again?" It didn't escape Don that his father became suddenly very uncomfortable. Alan fussed with his plate for a moment before he replied neutrally, "It was a few years after you left for college."
"It was the year you started with the Bureau."
Alan glowered for a moment at his youngest before he said in the same neutral tone, "I'm not sure. Charlie's probably right."
"Oh." Don decided not to press. Not at the moment, anyway.
*~*~*~*~*
"Dad?"
"Yes Donnie?"
"I was wondering—"
"Do you remember the three blessings on the first night of Hanukah?"
"Er…it's been a while since the Hebrew lessons…"
"Baruch ata Adonai, elohanu melech ha olam, sheheheyanu, v'kiyimanu, v'higiyanu, lazman ha zeh."
"…a long while since the Hebrew lessons…"
"Blessed are you Adonai, Ruler of the world, who has kept us alive and well, and has brought us to this season… Does that answer your question?"
"…Thanks Dad."
"…You're welcome. Just promise me you'll always come home."
"I will."