The Challenge in the Hiatus
Note: I don't own Bones. This is done out of love for the show and hatred of the hiatus.
30. Blessing
He looked past his own steepled fingers toward the clenched fist of his daughter, her own eyes squeezed shut as she was putting a great deal of effort into the blessing of their Sunday brunch.
Across from him, the resident atheist was waiting patiently for a break in the prayer to signal that it was okay to dive in.
But Christine was taking this seriously—very seriously—as the short prayer he had made over the meal, a simple Twitter-like blessing meant to assuage the non-believer wife and his I'm-going-to-make-her-a-believer-if-it-kills-me daughter was now turning into a blog post of sorts.
"Psst, Christine," he tried, Bones beginning to look like she was going to break her vow not to interfere, "God probably already heard you."
But his daughter remained frozen in a state of prayer, her fingers folded together, her eyes clenched shut, and her mouth chewing on whatever concept she was communicating with God.
He gave her a couple more minutes, but even his stomach was protesting the interruption in the regularly scheduled Sunday meal when Bones mouthed something which he took to be, "Does it always take this long to talk to your mythical being?"
He reached out. "Christine, honey, baby, love of my life," he whispered across the table, his eyes nervously glancing at Bones who had been gracious about Sunday mass and saying grace as long as it was only on Sunday and special occasions, but her goodwill was running a bit thin. "Christine, baby, you pray before the meal. And then you eat."
The eyes had it. . . they were tighter than Cams' wallet these days.
"Christine, honey," he said avoiding Bones, "the food is getting cold. And we're having your favorites. . . ." He listed everything on the meal hoping to find a winner. Bones started to say something, something that started off with "Anthropologically . . ." and he knew he was losing the battle. "Christine, your mommy really has to eat, honey, because she's pregnant and eating for two people and that requires that she eat an additional 300 calories. . . ."
The eyes popped open.
He sat back, pleased that he could keep her budding interest in religion alive without throwing off the balance of a nice Sunday. . . .
"Does God give you what you ask for?"
Luckily Bones was already chewing away on something which gave him a chance to chew on this with his daughter. "God grants us those things that he thinks we need."
"Even if I pray really hard?"
"Yes, even if you pray really hard."
His little genius was looking a bit put out by that, so he tried to soften the truth.
"God grants us what he thinks we need, but he puts a lot of effort into those things we ask for when they're for other people."
"It is not rational for a mytho. . . ."
"Bones!"
His wife gave him the look, the tilt of the head, the pursed lips, the whole scornful schoolteacher look that sometimes could be a real turn-on, but right now wasn't helping his side.
"When we ask things for other people, that means we're being slefless and God likes that."
"Like asking Him for Mommy to be healthy during this pregnancy?"
He shot a look at Bones. Okay, he was gloating a bit.
"That's a very sweet thing to ask for. I know Mommy appreciates it."
He could see Bones was touched by the gesture. So was he. Hell. . . strike that, heck, his little girl was learning to think of others. This religion thing had something.
Okay, now he really was gloating.
"Because it's self-lesh?"
"Self-less. Unselfish. Generous." He was going to pile on the adjectives before Bones got a chance to. "It's really a very nice thing to do for someone you love and who loves you."
Point for Sunday church and God, he thought. Booth one, Bones nothing. He shot his wife a grin.
"Is it all right that I pray for a baby brother?"
Oh, he was on a roll. They already knew the sex of their kid and if she was praying for a baby brother then she would think. . . .
"Uh-hem."
Bones was giving him that look again and he knew she was reading his mind even if she would tell him later that that was impossible. He straightened.
"Yes, honey. You can pray to God to keep Mommy healthy and to have a healthy baby brother." It might be unfair, but he and God and the sonogram were winning this little crusade. He grinned again toward Bones who was giving him a look of caution.
"So, you asked God to keep Mommy healthy and to have a healthy baby brother." He felt great. "What's wrong with that?"
How could Bones argue against anything that taught their kid selfless devotion to the needs of others?
"I asked God for a healthy Mommy, and a healthy baby brother. . . ," Christine repeated.
He smiled at Bones, triumphant.
". . .As long as he's a puppy."
Author's note: Bonesology puts out a challenge and I, like the fool I am, will answer. However, I will not write a connected story like The Lies in the Truth because that one makes my head hurt sometimes. I first saw the challenge here with FaithinBones and I'm throwing my two cents in as well if only to help pass the time. Because I can start any ol' where I want to on the list, I'm going to start low with the hope that I can get through a few stories at least without making this last until five years after Bones reaches its 500th episode. I am a slow writer who tends to write in spurts and I probably won't be doing a chapter a day. Sorry.
If this is crap and you don't want me to continue, just don't review.