Dave wasn't typically a fan of Easter dinner. Easter as a holiday was meaningful, and he never missed Easter services, if he could help it. But the dinner wasn't much fun without family to share it. His own was spread all over and couldn't be bothered to come to him, since he was the only one who lived on the East Coast and the rest of them lived in little groups all over the States.
This year, though, he decided it was up to him to make Easter more than a frozen dinner in front of the television. Especially when he could cook. The plan was to spend the time he wasn't working, searching high and low for his grandmother's old family recipe. Generally, they didn't believe in writing things down. Just a handful of this and a pinch of that. So, Dave didn't have much hope of finding anything resembling a frayed note card. Truth was, he'd searched for years, and never found it. For the first time, though, Dave refused to give up. Instead, he searched the internet, until he found almost exactly what he was looking for.
Then, he called up Hotch and invited him and Jack over for Easter dinner. The rest had family, significant others or a self-imposed solitude that they intended to keep. Hotch, Dave knew, didn't have connections with his own family and it was becoming harder and harder to celebrate with Haley's family, especially now that he was dating again.
"I'll try to come, Dave, but it's going to be tight," Hotch said apologetically. "Jack just started 6 & under tee ball this past week and there's a game on Saturday night. And I've got to run to the office in the morning to take care of some things."
"Don't worry. I can take Jack for you in the morning. We'll go to church and then he can help me with an old family recipe," Dave said cryptically.
"We usually just have turkey or ham. It's like Thanksgiving in the spring," Hotch explained, laughing. "Don't go to any trouble on our account."
"No trouble," Dave reassured.
On Easter weekend, Dave's carefully laid plans nearly came apart. They'd traveled to Washington state and got back just in time for Hotch to take Jack to tee ball. Dave decided to go along. The kid needed a cheering section, and he missed coaching soccer.
It had been a long time since Dave had watched kids as small as Jack swing a bat and try to connect with a ball. They all looked younger than Dave could ever recall being. Much younger than Jack's soccer crowd.
"They're babies," Dave whispered to Hotch in the stands. "That one's losing his helmet, and he can barely pick up the bat." He rubbed his eyes and tried to stay awake.
Hotch laughed. "I know. This is a four-to-six year old division."
"How's Jack doing?" Dave asked. "He's got strong legs," he said, remembering that much from soccer in the fall. "He's probably a good runner."
"He is," Hotch confirmed. "When he can connect with the ball."
"It's on a tee," Dave said incredulously. "It's a stationary target."
"I guess his hand-eye coordination is still developing. Or maybe he just excels in soccer and this is new for him. But, Dave, you should see him support his team." Hotch said proudly.
"That's my boy," Dave nodded, smiling to himself.
They yelled encouragement when Jack came up to bat, and reassured him when he struck out. True to Hotch's word, Jack was most impressive on the bench, where he tried to get the smaller kids to pay attention and gave every teammate a high five after they were done batting, whether they got a hit or not.
"Great try!" he'd say. "That's awesome. Next time, just concentrate even more when you're swinging!" Or, "Next time, run even faster! We're proud of you, aren't we, team?"
"That's a good kid you've got there," Dave complimented, clapping Hotch on the back.
"He takes after his mother," Hotch said, pride and sadness in his eyes.
There was no score keeping and the game was over in an hour. The kids had snacks and then Jack ran to Hotch and threw his arms around him. "How did I do?" he asked. "Hey, Uncle Dave!"
"Hey, kiddo," Dave replied, smiling. "You did a nice job supporting your team tonight. We like to see that."
"You did great, buddy. Great job," Hotch encouraged, lifting Jack onto his shoulders. "Daddy's got some things to do at the office early tomorrow morning so what do you say you spend the night at Dave's and you can go to church and help him cook Easter dinner tomorrow?"
"Cool! Like a sleepover?" Jack asked.
"Like a sleepover," Dave echoed.
On Sunday morning, Dave got up and dressed in his fancier attire. He woke earlier than he needed to, and hid eggs all over the house for Jack to find. He woke Jack with a promise of an Easter egg hunt and a good breakfast if he hurried and got dressed. Hotch had packed a green button-down shirt for Jack with nice black slacks, which Jack put on without protest.
The egg-hunt was a success, with Dave trailing Jack with the camera so Hotch could see the highlights of the morning. They ate buttermilk pancakes and toast, while Jack counted his eggs and stared in awe at his Easter basket, shaped like Spiderman and filled with candy and small toys.
"Now, we're going to church this morning and it's an important day today. So I need you to be the good boy I know you are. You can't talk my ear off in there," Dave said good-naturedly. "I want you to sit and listen. Understand?" Dave asked.
Jack nodded seriously.
And you could have knocked Dave over with a feather when Jack stayed perfectly silent for the entire two-hour church service. He didn't utter a single word. Only passed Dave a single note that read: Bathrum? an hour and a half into things. Dave had accompanied him and talked quietly, but Jack had only nodded or shaken his head in response.
The minute they were outside the church, Jack exclaimed, "Oh holy cow! That was so hard!"
Dave burst out laughing. "Kiddo, I didn't mean you couldn't talk at all. I just meant keep your voice down and be respectful."
"Well, that's not what you said," Jack pointed out, holding Dave's hand as they walked across the parking lot. "Besides, I wanted to see if I could do it."
Back home, Dave found an apron to protect Jack's clothes, and tossed it to him to put on. It would reach the floor, but it would be better than nothing.
"Ew! Only girls wear these!" Jack called, wrinkling his nose.
"Chefs wear aprons, and if you want to help me cook, you'll wear one," Dave told him seriously.
"Fine," Jack huffed. "But can I have some candy first? I think I deserve some for being so good earlier," he bargained.
"You can have one piece of candy. And I'm watching you," Dave told him good-naturedly as Jack got a mischievous look on his face and selected the giant hollow chocolate bunny. "No, sir. One reasonable piece of candy."
After Jack ate half a peanut butter sandwich and a Reese's peanut butter cup, they were ready to get cooking. Dave gave the recipe a thorough once-over and started in, giving Jack the smaller jobs: mixing the cheese and working with the dough.
Hours later, it was baking in the oven, with the light on. Jack sat on a stool and watched it intently for any change. "Uncle Dave? No offense, but what actually is that?" Jack asked comically, pointing to the pan in the oven.
"What does it look like?" Dave asked. He liked encouraging kids to think critically.
"A pie?" Jack guessed, biting his lip.
"See? You know what it is. You don't need me to tell you." Dave smiled.
"But it can't be a pie with cheese and meat inside!" Jack objected. "What about the apples?"
"It's not that kind of pie," Dave chuckled, pulling up a chair beside Jack. "That is an Italian Easter pie, like my grandmother used to make."
Jack wrinkled his nose.
"What do I always say?" Dave urged, disheartened by Jack's reaction.
The little boy sighed heavily. "You never put anything on the table that isn't good," he recited.
"That's right," Dave nodded. "And for the record, I think your dad's bringing the apple pie."
"So we're only eating pies on Easter?" Jack asked, and then broke into giggles. "That's hilarious!"
Hotch turned up as promised, just as the Italian pie was coming out of the oven. To Jack's delight, he carried an apple pie with him in one hand, and a fresh strawberry one in the other.
"Smells good," Hotch said, sitting down next to Jack.
"We made that Easter pie, Dad," Jack said proudly.
"Wow. This was your old family recipe?" Hotch asked, as Dave cut slices and handed them around.
When Jack took his first bite and sighed in pleasure, Dave did, too, relieved that the recipe was not total disappointment to a six-year-old palate.
"Uncle Dave, your grandma has the best secret recipes," Jack told him seriously. Hotch nodded in agreement. When Dave tasted it, he felt himself transported back in time many years, surrounded by a different family, but feeling the same love and appreciation for those around him.
It was everything Dave wanted the holiday to be.
A/N: I thought it was time for a light-hearted story. There have been a lot of darker-themed ones lately and too much of that isn't good. Just a heads-up in case you missed it: You can ask me any of your burning questions about my stories over at the Chit-Chat on Author's Corner forum. Just find the thread that says Author of the Week-Ficdirectory and ask away!