Promise
A clap of thunder reverberated throughout the house and the table's occupants regarded each other with raised eyebrows.
Jethro Gibbs set down his coffee cup and narrowed his gaze out the breakfast room window. His vivid blue eyes appraised the gloomy horizon. "It looks like it is coming down in sheets out there."
Maria stood and began clearing empty dishes. "Si, maybe the tropical storm has reached us here in the village. Campeche is not that far."
Her voice reflected some of her worry at the storm's intensity.
Tony's fork, laden with scrambled eggs, stopped midway to his mouth and he protested, "No, no, no! Lorenzo and I have plans today- important plans."
Gibbs shook his head. "Nope, I think that will be a no go. This weather looks rough." He pushed back his chair with finality and rose, grabbing dishes to take with him to the sink. "Go to your plan B, Son."
Finishing his eggs and taking a swallow of juice, Tony replied with evident disappointment, "No plan B exists because I only want plan A, to hang out with Lorenzo."
Crossing his arms across his chest he puffed out his lip in a disappointed pout.
Even with a scowl plastered across his face, Tony was an extremely handsome young man. Finally all grown to a height of over six feet, his athletic physique, glimmering green eyes, and sparkling personality drew people to him like a magnet.
His abuela considered him her very own pride and joy, despite his current upset.
Rinsing the last few dishes before Jethro loaded them into the machine, the older woman spoke soothingly in the voice she had always employed to calm him. "Well, Bambino, you can see su primo- your cousin, another day. Instead, you will help me, and this day will be muy perfecto because we will work in the storage room."
"You announce that like I have won a sweepstakes or something, Abuela." Tony grumbled, drinking the rest of his juice down in a single gulp and then jumping up from his seat.
He grabbed the last of the dishes on the table and carried them to the sink to reassure her and dissuade her from thoughts of chores. "I believe I can find something to entertain myself if I put my mind to it, but thank you so much for the suggestion."
Maria cut off the water and regarded him, obviously debating whether to simply commandeer his help or not.
With genuine affection, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Te amo, Abuela mia."
She reached up and rubbed his cheek. "Y yo- and I love you, Antonio."
Tony leaned against the counter and pursed his lips thoughtfully. At twenty four and a brand new college graduate, he had a couple of weeks before he needed to seriously job hunt and take on adult responsibilities. Until then, though, he was spending free time as he usually did, at the family's Mexican home.
He regarded his father, intent upon arranging the dishes so that they strategically had the finest shot at cleanliness once the dishwasher cycle began. His dad possessed a sharp, analytical mind which surfaced even during mundane household tasks.
Jethro Gibbs was a good man, a superb NCIS agent, and an extraordinary father.
Resigned to the inevitable, Tony sighed dramatically. "Ok, Abuela, you have me captive here. Consider me just pleased as punch to do whatever you want done in the storage room."
She and Gibbs laughed at his tone of voice and he grinned, then pointed towards the hall. "I will meet you in the chamber of chores in half an hour."
True to his word, Tony returned at the appointed time to find Gibbs on a ladder in their storage room, just beginning to construct a couple of additional shelves from boards he had propped against the ladder. His dad's woodwork and construction served dually as therapy and hobby.
Maria stood on a shorter ladder and held a marker and a roll of masking tape. Noticing Tony, his abuela explained that as she examined the contents of boxes, she listed the inventories on the tape and stuck those content listings to each container.
Pointing, she directed Tony to the opposite side of the room, and showed him the extra tape and markers she had set there for him.
The trio worked in companionable silence for nearly an hour before Tony dropped one of the containers he had attempted to move. He hurriedly began to herd the contents and shove them back into the interior, but one of the articles caught his attention.
"Abuela," he called, jabbing a finger towards the carton. "This box holds lots of my stuff from different ages- I mean when I was a kid."
She eyed the box and nodded in agreement. "Si, that box I put on the top of the shelf, I remember. I have just put some mementos in here and there, nieto."
Intrigued, Tony sat down crosslegged on the floor and pulled the container close to take a better look. Almost all of his childhood mementos had been carefully catalogued and packed up by Maria over the years, with dates on the boxes as reference points. This one, though, must have been his abuela's catch all box, to house things she had missed.
Reaching into the depths, he grabbed a book from the odd assortment. Closer inspection identified it as a ragged journal.
Holding it up for Maria to see, he laughed with delight. "This is my very first diary!"
Running his fingers across the frayed cover he smoothed down a tear at the edge which exposed the cardboard and regarded it excitedly.
Jethro glanced down at his son's find. "That is not familiar. When did you get that diary, Son?"
"Dad," Tony chided, "Santa brought me this one when I was seven- or maybe eight, the very first one I ever got."
Jethro peered over his glasses at the journal and grunted, then turned back to his own task.
Maria, intent upon her own agenda as well, paid it even less consideration.
Annoyed at the lack of fanfare, Tony called out impatiently, "Abuela, look, and pay attention please. Se presta atencion- this is my very own first diary."
She turned long enough to flash a smile in his direction, "Muy bien, nieto, good, grandson."
Disappointed in their lack of passionate response, Tony grasped the book against him and then took a better look. "Let me correct myself. It was not Christmas, but on my birthday when I got this as a present."
Neither Maria nor Jethro responded to the clarification, intent upon their own tasks.
Reaching up and grabbing the edge of a shelf, he pulled himself to his feet and announced with a note of petulance, "Well, since my dad does not care and my grandmother does not care about a chronicle of my childhood, I will excuse myself and go read and remember all by very own self."
"Halt," Gibbs ordered, his voice joining that of Maria.
She pointed towards a shelf of boxes. "You go nowhere- en ninguna parte- until you finish this, Antonio. Then you may read your story."
Sighing in annoyance, Tony set the diary on the nearest shelf for safekeeping and grabbed one of the containers his grandmother identified. "Ok, but I think both of you are heartless for not allowing me to go immediately to read what I wrote in those pages. You two managed to handicap the emotional growth I could have gained with my personal activity, one which would have kept me from being underfoot. I think I'll tell Ducky about this and see if I will have damage fallout for years to come."
His audience did not bother to even acknowledge his words.
Resigned that leniency eluded him, Tony grabbed another box and got back to work.
Jethro glanced over at Maria and smirked.