Refuge

"Hawkeye," Daniel Pierce said with good-natured exasperation and a light kick to his son's butt, "do you really have to be right here? You're very much in my way." Then, after the briefest of pauses, "Move it or lose it, son."

Hawkeye promptly moved out of his father's way, giving B.J. a pointed look. "That's his way of saying how much he loves me."

And B.J. had to laugh. Because this was how it was with the Pierce men. The genial teasing, the playful give-and-take, the quick-witted comebacks. Over 30-some years, the two of them had perfected their own brand of bantering. What B.J. and Hawkeye had dabbled in for a couple of years in Korea had nothing on what the Pierces had developed into high art.

"B.J.?" the elder Pierce asked. "Pancakes all right with you?"

"Absolutely, sir." It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He'd been told, time and again, to knock off the "sir" crap.

Sure enough, another admonishment was coming. Daniel pointed straight at him with the spatula. "Enough of that 'sir' shit, y'understand? You can call me Daniel or Dan, or hell, you can even call me Dad. I would only ask that you don't pick one of Hawkeye's saucier nicknames for me… Hmm, what would those be, son? I'm sure you've called me 'the old fuddy-duddy' at least once behind my back."

"Heck, Dad, I probably even called you that in front of your back," Hawkeye said with a grin. "The names I called you behind your back were undoubtedly much worse."

"Then spare me," Daniel said with a roll of his eyes. Followed by the smirk that B.J. had known was coming. The interesting thing about these two was that they could insult the hell out of each other and smile the whole time, each knowing perfectly well the other loved him unconditionally.

This is a warm home, B.J. thought, and not for the first time. This is a home filled with love. He could completely understand why Hawkeye, a professional man in his 30s, chose not to move out.

"Pancakes it is," Daniel declared as he started to gather the necessary ingredients.

"Can't we help you, Dad?" Hawkeye offered, though he maintained his distance, having learned his lesson after being kicked out of the way.

"Nope, nope. Won't hear of it. You boys just keep me company while I'm workin' here, that's all." Daniel spun around to face them, once again brandishing the spatula as though it were a weapon. "Just stay over there!"

Hawkeye took a seat next to B.J. at the kitchen table. "The spatula commands and we obey," he deadpanned, raising his hands in the surrender gesture.

His father got busy mixing the necessary ingredients, chatting over his shoulder as he did. "What are the two of you planning today? Such a beautiful Sunday… I hope you're going to be outside…?"

"We hadn't actually talked about it," Hawkeye replied. "Beej? Any thoughts?"

B.J. shrugged. "I've heard so much about the fishing around here…"

Hawkeye put a hand up, "Say no more. Fishing it is. Dad? You'll be joining us, I hope?"

Daniel, in the throes of mixing vigorously, said, "That sounds like a great idea. By all means, count me in. Be forewarned, though, B.J.—Hawkeye gets awfully grumpy if he doesn't catch anything."

B.J. gave a dismissive wave. "I've seen him grumpy." Then he laughed, "Actually, I've seen him sleepy, sneezy, and doc, too."

Daniel turned from the mixing bowl to look at him, and added with a wink, "But nobody's ever seen him bashful!" And the three of them—yes, even Hawkeye—burst into raucous laughter.

B.J. watched the delight in their faces as they all shared the moment. I feel really good, he thought with amazement. I'm so glad I'm here. And he gave a short, silent prayer of thanks for Hawkeye Pierce and his father Daniel.

Nearly two weeks before, he had packed his bags and left Mill Valley, California… scared and completely adrift. His marriage had ended, and he had no idea which way to turn. All of a sudden he was a man without a family. Feeling small and lost and very confused, he had landed unannounced on his best friend's doorstep… and he'd never felt more welcome anywhere.

Hawkeye and his dad were amazing from the get-go. Compassionate and accommodating and supportive. "Stay here as long as you need to, Beej." "Anything we can do for you, just let us know." "By all means, make yourself at home."

Coming here was so smart, he thought now as the laughter died down. Maybe the smartest thing I ever did.

Hawkeye was asking his dad where their fishing poles might be, and Daniel was saying that they should check up in the attic… and the whole while, B.J. just sat there watching the two of them, his eyes filling with tears.

In spite of the breakup of his marriage, in spite of the fact that he was all the way across the country from his home, he felt strangely at peace. As it turned out, when your life is shattered, family is anyone who's willing to help you pick up the pieces.