DISCOVERIES
Chapter 1
Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
'Round yon virgin Mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace…..
Adam listened contentedly from the sofa with a sleeping Guthrie on his lap, as Crane played the last note and let it linger in the air for a few seconds.
"That was beautiful, boys," the oldest McFadden praised softly, trying not to wake Guthrie. "But I really have to get this one to bed and you should head up, too, Ford…"
"Please, Adam…one more song?"
Normally, Adam didn't budge on bedtimes. Ever. But this was Christmas and they had had such a wonderful day. Between the thoughtful presents, a warm church service with all their favorite music, a Christmas dinner that may not have been very elegant, but had been abundant and delicious, and the time spent around the piano singing, Adam was in a very mellow mood. "Alright, scamp, one more song. But that is it. Okay?"
A beaming smile was his reward, "Got it! Thanks, Adam!"
"Since Daniel chose the last one, you get to choose this one, Ford," Crane grinned, "What will it be?"
"Eh….the Twelfth Days of Christmas!"
"Okay…" But just as Crane was about to start Ford changed his mind.
"Noooo Oh Holy Night!"
"Alright," And again, Crane place his hands on the piano only to be stopped by Ford.
"Maybe The Little Drummer Boy is better…"
Adam had gotten up, carefully yet expertly maneuvering with Guthrie in his arms. "If you're going to keep changing your mind, I might change my mind as well, kiddo. I suggest you decide."
"Okay The Twelfth Days of Christmas then…." Ford quickly made up his mind, knowing Adam was always good in following through on threats.
Crane started playing and the remaining four brothers gathered around the piano once more, with Brian playing the guitar while singing along.
"On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me…."
Crane grinned, "A Partridge in a pear tree…"
Adam slowly walked up the stairs, "Come on, little buddy, let's get you to bed." Guthrie didn't even stir and Adam found his back and arms protesting under the weight. "This sure was easier when you were four…better yet: two." But he didn't mind. In fact, he kinda missed these moments. It wasn't often he got the chance to carry a sleeping brother up the stairs nowadays. In the room the youngest three shared, placed the 8-year-old down on his bed. At least the boy was already in pajama's so all he had to do was lift his legs on the bed, take off his socks, cover him up and tuck him in. Guthrie snuggled under the covers, but didn't wake up and Adam smiled as he leaned over the young boy and brushed an errant strand of hair aside so he could kiss his forehead. "Sleep tight, little man." He wouldn't get away with that nickname with a fully awake Guthrie, but now that the boy was asleep Adam reverted back to what he had called his youngest brother when the boy had been years younger. "Love you." Another thing Guthrie didn't like to hear anymore. Adam sighed sadly, they were growing up far too fast.
He quietly slipped out of the room, leaving the little nightlight on knowing that even though Guthrie claimed not to be afraid of the dark anymore, he still got scared during the night if he woke up in the dark, especially when no one was there, and descended the stairs.
"Twelve drummers drumming…" His warm baritone filled the room and the brothers smiled as Adam sang the line traditionally sang by him.
"Eleven pipers piping
Nine ladies dancing
Eight maids a milking
Seven swans a swimming
Six geese a laying
Five golden rings
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a pa - ha - hartridge in a peeeeaaaaaar treeee"
Crane's exaggerated final Partridge-line always made Ford giggle and today was no exception.
"That was fun!" The boy sighed. He threw Adam one hopeful look, "Guess this means I have to go to bed."
"It does, kiddo," Adam nodded, "There's another day tomorrow."
"But it won't be Christmas tomorrow," Ford tried his saddest look and even Daniel laughed.
"We can still sing, silly," Evan commented.
"Sure can, Ev," Adam tousled Ford's hair, "Okay, up you go, buddy." Then he looked over to Evan, "You're past your bedtime too."
"Aw, Adam, Ford got to stay up longer."
"Well, I think we're done staying up. I'm almost falling over myself."
"You're not falling, Adam," Ford giggled, already forgotten that he wanted to stay up. "Night Brian," He gave his second-oldest brother a big hug, "Thanks for a great Christmas."
"Same to you, buddy," The hug was eagerly returned, "You all made it unforgettable. Sweet dreams."
"Night, Crane," the next brother was hugged, "I had fun singing."
"So did I, Ford. It's my favorite part of Christmas."
"Night Daniel." The hugs were reserved for the oldest three, "Night, Evan." Knowing Adam would be up to tuck him in, the 12-year-old skipped up the stairs to brush his teeth and get to bed.
"We could do one more song," Daniel tried to help Evan, but neither Adam nor Brian would go for it.
"No more songs," Brian put the guitar away to show them it was really over now. "I love it as much as you guys, but you all need your sleep. You know the stock doesn't know it's Christmas. They'll be awake the same time as always."
Crane was the only one who didn't manage to contain the eye roll, but fortunately for him, he had his back to Brian as he was just closing the lid on the piano and putting the music away. The other three barely refrained, but it took effort.
"Go on up, it's late enough," Brian roughed up Evan's already messy hair, "You're not fooling me. You're just as tired as Guthrie was."
"Am not." Evan pushed Brian's hand away, "You're messing up my hair." That made everyone laugh. "Okay, okay, I'll go."
"Me too," Daniel was usually the one to complain about bedtimes, but he had to admit he was tired. And it wasn't like the next day was a boring old school day. The next day would bring more fun and free time. So he was happy to go up.
"We'll come up to say goodnight in a few minutes," Adam promised as Evan and Daniel trudged upstairs.
Crane laughed, "I sure miss this when I'm at college."
Brian's eyes twinkled with mischief, "I can see why you'd miss it. The complaining. The noise. The chatter. The bickering…..yeah I'd miss it too."
"You're not fooling anyone, Bri," Crane got up from the piano bench, "You love it."
"Yeah yeah…I know."
"Can I make some more hot chocolate or is that work too?"
Adam's answer shouldn't have surprised Crane, "You can, but you may not."
With a sigh Crane let himself drop down in the comfortable chair, "How can that be considered work?!"
"It's not really," Adam had to admit, "it's part of the experience. Hot chocolate or eggnog?"
"Hot chocolate, please," Crane swallowed what he wanted to say.
"Could always add a drop of whiskey to the chocolate," Brian winked. "Would make for a nice adult drink."
"Let's stick to marshmallows instead," Adam walked off, not wanting to get into a discussion about alcohol. He wasn't even sure why he didn't want to take Brian up on that suggestion. He couldn't use Crane's age as an excuse, because he'd already allowed the teenager some of dad's eggnog and they did allow a beer every now and then. But somehow he felt there was a difference between an occasional beer and eggnog on the one hand, and adding liquor to a warm and homely drink like hot chocolate. He opened the fridge for milk and focused on making hot chocolate.
Crane leaned back in his chair. "It's been such a nice day."
"What made it so nice?" Brian stretched his long legs out and rested them on the coffee table as he leaned back on the sofa.
"I don't know…"
"I think you do…"
Crane studied his hands, "I just…I haven't felt like I'm in disgrace all day."
"Kiddo, we can't stay mad every single minute of every single day. That'd be exhausting."
"I know, but it's been nice to feel like I'm just home for the Holidays, enjoying time with my family. Instead of being dragged home and punished."
"Well, you are home with the family. To spend time with us. And to study when you can. Is that so bad?"
Crane shrugged, "I just don't get that I can't even make a hot chocolate. I don't get it, Brian. Why can't I even make you two some cocoa for a change."
Brian smiled, "That's big brother over-compensating. He feels he's let you down during your earlier teenage years and he wants to make up for that. Mind you, the whole no-working thing is something else completely. That's really to have you focus on your main job for now, which is being a student. That is a full time job. But this? This with the chocolate? And stuff like that? That's Adam wanting to take care of you."
"Aren't I a little too old for that?"
"Are we ever?" Brian shrugged, "It's nice to be taken care of every now and then. When someone does something for you. Enjoy it." Crane rolled his eyes, only this time, Brian did see it. "I'd refrain from that if I were you. I can promise you big brother won't like it. I can only advise you to undergo it. He'll let up eventually. But it will take him some time. He feels guilty."
"That's plain silly. We all did what we had to do."
"Maybe, but you were 12, kid. Same age Ford is now. He still gets his cuddles. He has his chores. But he's not doing the books. He's not in charge of getting Guthrie in bed. Or helping him with his homework. Sure, we help each other. We all do. But it's not his job and he knows it."
"Different situation."
"Not really. There's still Adam and me."
"But you're older now. More experienced."
"True….and you missed out because we were inexperienced back then."
"Three hot chocolate!" Adam came walking in with mugs and another plate of cookies and squares. "If I eat more of these I'll end up bursting out of my jeans."
"No chance. Not on a ranch with all the work you do." Crane took his mug and snatched another rocky road square. The lanky young man seemed to be able to eat as much as he wanted and not gain an ounce.
"That's true," Adam, too, found a comfortable spot and sipped the hot liquid in his mug. "I still can't get over that gift you boys gave us." He looked at the wheel-shaped picture frame they had already mounted over the fire place, replacing the ugly landscape that used to call that spot home. "With all his cockiness and smart-mouthed remarks, deep down, Evan is the sweetest boy possible."
"If he asks me one more time if we really, really do like it, I'm gonna…well…I don't know what I'm gonna…but it ain't pretty!" Brian's eyes betrayed his emotion, though.
"He has no idea how special it is that he thinks of that at his age," Crane agreed.
"Look who's talking!" Adam snorted. "You're the one who expanded on the whole idea and had them all go through tons of photos to find the right ones to show us what we mean to you boys. Not something a regular 18-year-old does. I just.." Adam cleared his throat, "well, you have no idea what it means to me."
"Or me," Brian added, "so…" He needed to change the subject or he'd get emotional, "So, what's on your study schedule for tomorrow?"
Crane pulled a face, "Really? It's Christmas and you want to talk about homework?"
"Well, it's either that or my grocery list."
"I think we're out of cocoa," Crane said dryly, "we've been drinking it all day."
"I guess that answers your question," Adam laughed at Brian, "the boy would rather talk about groceries than his classes."
"I'm gutted," Brian place his feet on the floor to get his cocoa. "Am I too dumb to talk about economics and literature and all that good stuff? Or is Adam just your favorite brother?"
"You're not dumb!" Crane was quick to protest, echoed by Adam.
"Ah so he's your favorite brother!"
Crane rolled his eyes, "You're neither dumb, nor do I play favorites. And tomorrow I just might happily discuss the fine art of animal management, introduction course, mind you. I skimmed through the book yesterday, as a diversion from my reading, and the first half of the book offered nothing I didn't know already."
"I'm sure there's a new angle or some kind of information that is new," Adam tried, but Crane shook his head.
"Nothing. Biology looked more interesting, but I guess for now I'll stick to literature so I'll get that out of the way."
"There you go," Brian smiled, "And if you're interested in a discussion of The French Lieutenant's Woman, I'm your man."
"You were so disappointed when you finally read that," Adam pointed out, much to Crane's amusement.
"Well, I thought there'd be real hot steaming sex. Well…not so much."
"See? Disappointed." Adam laughed, "Well, I'm beat. Sorry, but I'm heading up. You should too, kiddo."
Crane looked at Brian as if to say 'he's at it again', but found his other older brother nodding seriously, "You need your rest if you want to get through all that work."
"You two are as bad as each other." But the 18-year-old got up.
"Just because we love you, kid." But as Crane stretched and started to walk away from the table Adam raised his eyebrows, "Were you raised to leave your empty mug on the table?"
Crane looked back in surprise, "I thought…I wasn't trying to…I mean…earlier you wouldn't even allow me to clear the table!"
It caused the oldest to laugh, "Well, this I'll consider cleaning up after yourself. Just like taking your books upstairs when you're finished. Or making your bed."
"You really are confusing me, Adam." Crane collected the mugs.
"Shouldn't be too confusing. Don't leave your stuff lying around. That rule has always been in place….I remember an old toy truck left on the stairs…."
Crane blushed to his roots. "Okay, so clean up after myself, but not others…in that case…" with that, he put Adam's and Brian's mug back down, "I guess I shouldn't clean up after you either."
He walked off, satisfied he had effectively shut up his oldest brother. From Brian's sniggers he could tell the other older brother enjoyed the fact that he'd gotten one over Adam. He felt like doing a fist-pump, but refrained.
"Good, you shouldn't!" But Adam's reply came too late and the man knew it. He turned to Brian instead, "And you shut up."
"Hey, I didn't say a word, bro."
"You're laughing."
The pout on Adam's face made Brian laugh even louder.
"Fine, be that way." But Brian's laughter was infectious and Adam couldn't help laughter along. "Okay, he had me."
"Yup." Brian was still chuckling as Crane said his goodnights in passing.
A few hours later Brian wasn't laughing anymore. The house was quiet. Not even Guthrie had come back downstairs to keep him company on the sofa. Brian had contemplated not even pulling it out, but eventually he had and now he was sitting on his pull-out bed in his shorts and t-shirt, his blanket wrapped around him. He couldn't sleep. He shivered despite the warm blanket. Maybe he should go and get that whiskey out after all. But he stopped that train of thought. He knew only too well that drinking didn't help. A short period that first year had taught him that. Alcohol enhanced whatever mood you were in. And his mood was depressed enough without having it worsened by the effects of liquor.
He sometimes wondered if he was the only one to feel like this at Christmas. Adam seemed to be fine, but he knew the man was good at hiding his emotions. The younger boys seemed to have settled in a new Christmas routine, had even given Adam and him that wonderful gift to convey what they had trouble putting in words: that they looked at the older two brothers as parents, in a way anyway. Crane…Crane had so much to think about right now that Brian doubted this was first on his list of things to feel sad about. Maybe he was reading them all wrong, but it felt like he was the only one who could barely keep it together this day.
Christmas had been a joyous affair when their mom and dad had been alive. Mom had loved Christmas. She used to start buying the first presents in July, was baking weeks before Christmas, had the house decorated inside and out. And the warmth, the excitement…she would play Christmas music on the record player all day long, and if she wasn't doing that, she was singing carols herself in her beautiful soprano. No matter how hard he tried, he would always come up short in comparison. And he did try. Had tried for six years.
Not only did he feel like he could never live up to his parents, but the mere mention of Christmas brought on painful memories. The most painful one was of the day before they died, when mom had been dreaming out loud about that year's Christmas. For some reason he had been alone with her in the kitchen – probably because he was hoping to get an early piece of the strawberry pie she was making. And while working she'd shared her dreams with him. Dreams for her boys, dreams of the future.
Adam hadn't even left for college yet, but she was dreaming of him coming home for Christmas. She'd gone into detail about the welcome home he would get. She even dreamed of them bringing home girlfriends for Christmas, maybe not that first Christmas, but definitely soon. She was looking forward to watching them go through the next steps in their lives, even though she was sad to see her first born leave home. She never got to see that happen. Just like Brian would never get the chance to bring a girl home to meet her. Never would he bring a fiancée home for Christmas, or his own family. And he could picture it. He could see it in such detail that he could touch it. Feel it. Smell it. He wanted it so badly, but it had been stolen from them. Stolen by some idiot who didn't think about the consequences of his actions. Just a punk kid who didn't use his head. With devastating consequences. Their lives had been changed forever. Dreams and possible futures shattered, never to be restored.
Christmas would never be complete. It would never be the way it was or the way it was supposed to be. It shouldn't hurt this much after six years, but it did. A physical pain. He shivered again and wrapped his arms around his own body. He was glad everyone else was asleep. It was the only time of day he could let his emotions out, let his guard down. You had to be strong for the kids, he had to be strong for Adam, but when he was alone he could let the grief crash down on him. He loved that the boys felt Adam and he were doing a great job parenting, but all he wanted right now, was to have his own parents there.