Nothing to Do
Jethro Gibbs was sitting tensely in the living room recliner, examining the cold case NCIS file in front of him. He was so focused and deep in concentration that he didn't hear his son approach him until Tony suddenly perched on the arm of his chair.
"Hey, Dad," the ten year old greeted.
Jethro glanced up, massaged the bridge of his nose, and regarded his visitor over the top of his reading glasses. "What's up?"
Tony smiled, "Nothing- I don't have anything to do."
Jethro's mind whizzed. Tony rarely hinted that he was bored or at a loss for an activity. "Why don't you go outside and play ball with your friends or something?"
"Can't- Abuela won't let me go out 'cause she says it's raining. Look, though, Dad, it's just drizzling. What's the problem with that?"
"The problem is that she said you couldn't go outdoors, so you're not going." His dad resumed his investigation of the file.
Tony sighed and leaned back, wrinkling some of the file's papers. Jethro directed irritably, "Tony, get off the arm of the chair! I'm working here. Go find something to do. Why don't you watch television?"
Tony slid off his seat. "I'm on restriction from tv for three days, remember? But if it bothers you that much, I'll just find a nice, quiet documentary for entertainment." He snatched the remote from the coffee table and aimed it at the set.
"Don't!" his father ordered, glaring at the boy. Tony released the control and meandered out of the room.
He made his way to the kitchen next. Their housekeeper, Maria, a member of the family since Tony's pre school days, was singing softly in Spanish. Abuela was in the middle of frosting a cake. Sticking his finger in the icing, he pulled up a blob of the confection and popped it in his mouth. Abuela immediately scolded, "Stop right now, Bambino! This cake is for tonight and I need to finish."
Tony grinned brazenly and leaned beside her. "Let me go to the park and I won't be bothering you."
Maria's response was to scold. "You are not going out in the rain, but you are going to leave me alone in this kitchen. If you don't go find something to do, I will give you some work. Que ir a otro lugar. Go somewhere."
Tony spun around in a series of turns until he was almost out of the kitchen. "I don't have anything to do- no tengo nada que ver." Maria ignored his response.
Tony spent the next few minutes entering and exiting every room in the house. Passing both his dad and Abuela again he found they were still focused on their tasks. Finally, he returned to his dad's bedroom. Seeing nothing obviously of interest, he sauntered over to his bookcase. Scanning the book titles, he noticed a photo album in the middle of the texts. Slipping it out. he opened to the first page, where he saw a snapshot of a much younger Jethro with a beautiful redhead.
Tony swallowed. He knew who she was- Shannon, his mom. She and his sister had been killed years ago when Tony was barely past babyhood. His dad never brought them up unbidden- he would, though, answer questions about the two. He just didn't ever initiate a discussion.
Grabbing the album, he took a running jump and landed on his dad's bed. Kicking off his shoes, he slid himself against the pillows and headboard and started studying the collection of pictures. They all were taken while the two were dating- that was obvious. Tony marveled at the several different facets of his mom illustrated in the pages. He tried to find reflections of himself in her but couldn't discern a resemblance except in their eyes.
He looked carefully at the pictures of his dad. Jethro was laughing in several of the shots, and in the rest he looked relaxed and carefree. Tony was used to observing his dad as a responsible parent- serious and capable of providing a home for his son. He did have a sense of humor, and did laugh, but Tony couldn't remember seeing his father so lost in the moment that his whole body reflected elation.
His mother was gorgeous, and Tony watched her transform from a teenager to a college co-ed and fiancée as the pages progressed. The same was true of Jethro. The first photos showed a teen aged boy, and by the end he was totally a Marine- not just in his dress, but in his bearing as well. The last few pages of the book were filled with mementos, and Shannon had added the dates, and in some places, comments. Tony peeled off the transparent covering over a ribbon labeled "the ribbon I wore in my hair our first date" and rubbed his fingers across it. There were ticket stubs, and programs from events. One scrap of paper had a penciled heart with "Jethro" covering the middle of it.
There was a page torn from what looked like a phrasebook and Tony recognized Jethro's precise handwriting. Glancing at the terms he realized they were Russian to English translations. Jethro had autographed, "When we get to Russia one day, you'll be Lara and I'll be Yuri, but I'll never let you leave without me." Tony remembered the characters in a movie-it was Doctor Zhivago. He'd watched it one lazy Sunday afternoon a few months ago, and the farewell scene between the two protagonists was memorable.
With a flash of insight he realized that she had left without him- his mom, that is. She had left them both. Tony regarded the album as a whole. Why wasn't it with the others in the living room? There were several of Tony with his parents and sister, Kelly. Then after the accident, there were more albums of Tony growing up. Why did his dad keep this one segregated? Thinking back on his mom leaving his dad, he realized that this album was the only tangible object left that proved Shannon and Jethro shared a history together that had not included anyone else- even their children, or their families.
There was a noise at the door and Tony looked up to see his dad leaning on the doorframe, watching him sadly. Tony sat up immediately to explain, "Dad, I'm sorry. I know I should have asked permission to go in your room, and I shouldn't have gone through your stuff. I just didn't have anything to do so I was….." Tony stopped abruptly when he realized his dad wasn't responding.
Jethro stood still a moment longer, then walked over to the bed. Motioning to Tony to move over, he climbed up beside him, slid back to the headboard, and pulled Tony to him. Resting an arm over his son's shoulder, he leaned over and kissed him on the top of his head. Taking the album from his son, he felt a stab of pain as his sight went immediately to a picture of Shannon. Tony turned to regard him and realized how emotional an ordeal it was. "It's okay, Daddy. I'll go put it back on the shelf."
Jethro wiped quickly at his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, then smiled and composed himself. "Hey," he said gruffly, "let's look together."