Chapter 4

Henry received the last plate from Abe, rinsed it in the sink, and set it on the rack. He turned around and watched Jo as she sat on the sofa. He smiled. Their dinner had gone quite well. If they were still courting next year, they would certainly have another celebration like tonight's fete.

The rapidly falling snow outside the living room windows reminded him that she was still his guest through at least Christmas morning. He started to think about breakfast. He recalled the amounts of ingredients that he had asked her to pick up and what they had in the refrigerator. He bit his lower lip in thought. They had more than enough food for the dish that he was thinking about.

He spun around to face Abe. "Abe, would you mind if we didn't have our usual breakfast tomorrow?"

His son dried his hands on the dishtowel over his shoulder. "Why do you ask?"

"Since Jo's our guest, I thought that we could make omelets instead." Jo had once mentioned that it was her favorite breakfast dish. Based on his observations of her eating habits, she rarely had the opportunity to partake of it.

"You want to do something special for her." Abe grinned. "No, I don't mind." He then chuckled. "I was wondering what to cook anyway. From what I've read online, everyone else has a special breakfast on Christmas morning. I didn't know if you wanted to break with our tradition tomorrow since we've decided to do this tonight."

Abe studied him for a moment and muttered. "Since we're finished with the dishes…"

He walked toward the living room and stood in the threshold. "I'm going to my bedroom to give you two some privacy. I'll see you in the morning."

Jo looked at the younger Morgan. "Good night."

Abe turned to head to his room just as Henry arrived at the door. Abe smirked and patted him on the shoulder before leaving.

Henry entered the room and glanced over his shoulder at a disappearing Abe. His son was proving to be a mischievous chaperone.

He sighed as he focused his attention on Jo. He wasn't expecting this.

Jo ran her hand through her hair. "I don't think we've had this much time alone since we've started courting."

"We haven't." Either Abe's presence in the room or a lead in a case had usually interrupted them as they had begun to take advantage of some spare time.

He joined her on the sofa. As he sat down, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and took her hand in his free hand. She moved closer to him. He briefly closed his eyes in pleasure. It felt so good to have her sitting beside him.

He remembered her plans for the evening if things were different, and his heart broke. In spite of her typical inability to revel with everyone else as a result of her work, Jo clearly enjoyed the season. If they had their usual gift exchange this year, she wouldn't had celebrated the occasion.

"Considering the circumstances, I'm glad that you are enjoying yourself tonight." He smiled as he thought of her joy.

She grinned. "I really am."

His mind went back to a recent event that occurred earlier in the month. "I had wanted to invite you to accompany me to the OCME's office party this year—."

She opened and closed her mouth several times. "What?" He could tell that she also suspected that she had played a role in his decision.

"Lucas had been attempting to convince me to attend it since we had first started working together, but I never had the desire to go. This year…" He rubbed his tongue over his lips in a slight case of nervousness.

"You had a reason." She smiled at him. "I would have loved to have gone with you just to see the look on his and your colleagues' faces when you showed up." She chortled. "Lucas would have tackled you the second that he saw you enter the room."

Henry chuckled and nodded. Since the first night that he had joined Jo, Lucas, and Mike at McSorley's for drinks, his assistant had a tendency to give him an enthusiastic hug every time he would join the young man in a social activity.

Jo sighed. "That case—."

"Let's not discuss it tonight." The recent case, an entire family's suspicious deaths, had disturbed everyone working it. If she contemplated it, she would never get any rest during the night.

She looked up at him. "You're right. Tonight's about us—and Abe if he stayed up."

"Knowing him, he's reading and listening to one of his jazz records right now." It would be a surprise if he was listening to Chopin instead.

Jo turned to face him. "Before you came in, I was thinking about when we had first met."

A strand of hair fell across her face. Henry let go of her hand and brushed the errant hair back. As his hand reached behind her ear, she gazed into his eyes.

"What about it?" He reluctantly pulled his hand away from her face and took her hand again.

"Back then, I never imagined that the 'weirdest, creepiest, most unusual person I've ever met' would become one of the most important men in my life." She softly chuckled as her eyes shone. "I'm still amazed that the man I had met then is the same one who—well, with the help of his son—did all this for me tonight." She smiled. "I feel very fortunate that you let me into your life like you have."

He looked thoughtfully at her. She was genuinely in love with him and not some ideal that she had held from the time that he had revealed his age to her. He never should have doubted that for a moment, not even during his nervousness about tonight's festivities.

A mischievous glint suddenly appeared in her eyes. The longer that he regarded it, the more he wanted to respond in kind. He suddenly pulled her closer to him.

"Henry Morgan!" She nudged him with her shoulder. "Are you trying to disturb Abe?" She sobered—for a second. "You know, I can find a working firearm in here."

"You would draw Abe's attention if you fire it, and only if you could find one." Fortunately for him—if she was serious—Abe's rifle was in his closest.

She jovially huffed and then laughed at what had become their personal joke. "Well, I'll have to find some other way to stop you."

They feel silent as they lost themselves in each other's eyes. She could do or say anything, and he would surrender himself completely to her desires.

Remembering the purpose of their current relationship, Henry lowered his eyes so he could resist the temptation to passionately kiss her. The carefree moment had been so natural. He, however, needed to comport himself like a perfect gentleman. He took a look at her and observed that she was attempting to conduct herself in a similar manner.

They had the rest of the evening to themselves, and neither of them were tired. Henry suddenly felt lost. He had no idea of how they would spend the time.

Memories of past Christmases and of his marriage to Abigail came to him. As much as he enjoyed dancing, it didn't appeal to him right now. There were too few people for singing. Jo didn't read poetry as she didn't like it. Even if she had preferred it, he would become tempted to indulge his urges if he read over her shoulder.

She shifted her weight. "I've never let you finish telling me about that play your sister Grace had written."

He looked over at her in amazement. He had almost forgotten about storytelling.

His mind went back to the production. "It was a retelling of a pantomime that we had seen the year before."

"Pantomime? As in miming?"

He nodded. "Yes, it was popular among the gentry back then. In our production for our parents, we tried to adhere to the traditional gender roles. There was this one scene where we needed another woman, and I found myself playing the role at the bequest of my siblings."

Jo burst into laughter. Once it slowed, she faced him. "Did you wear a dress?"

"Gratefully, no. I don't think I could have figured out how to get into one. Yet, it didn't matter as we never considered wearing costumes."

Jo sat silently for a moment. "I haven't heard all of your stories about what you were like when you were a kid."

He could never deny her what she wanted. He slowly stroked her fingers as he thought about what his first story would be. She snuggled closer to him and leaned against his chest. Soon, he began to share one incident about his childhood.

Eventually, her questions and reactions to his tales and her own stories from her past trailed off, and he felt her head resting on his shoulder. The faint scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her body, and the slowness of her breathing stilled his thoughts. He looked down at her and smiled at her enjoyment of the evening and of her unexpected overnight stay so far. For the moment, nothing else mattered.

He looked at the ornaments on the tree one more time. Everything seemed perfect. Well, almost everything. Something was missing.

"Daddy?"

He turned around and looked down at his four-year-old daughter, the spirit and image of Jo at that age, staring up at him inquisitively.

Henry squatted down and placed his hands on his knees. "What?"

"Can I put the star on the tree?" She extended the missing ornament to him.

He chuckled. "Of course, you should."

He reached out to the young girl. As he picked her up, she shrieked for joy and giggled. After stepping over to the tree, he lifted her up and sat her on his shoulder so she could reach the top of the tree. She reached out and pushed the adornment down on top.

She turned her head and beamed. "I did it, Daddy!"

"Yes, you did, and you've done a marvelous job!" He lowered her until she was at eye level and proudly kissed her on the cheek.

"Don't eat the cookies! They're for Santa!"

Henry glanced down and noticed his and Jo's six-year-old son standing near the end table closest to the doors and giving their two-year-old daughter a furious look. She slowly withdrew her hand from the plate of cookies that the children had set out for "Santa". Hoping that an argument wouldn't break out, Henry lowered his other daughter to the floor and watched as she ran off to the kitchen to tell Jo what she had done.

Abe swerved around the proud girl to avoid a collision and stepped into the living room. "I see you've got the tree decorated." He looked expectantly at his siblings. "Do you want to get the gifts that you got for Pops and your mom?"

Henry's youngest son grinned. "Yeah!" He left his post and raced toward his bedroom.

The youngest girl toddled over to Abe and studied him for a moment. "You San-ta?"

Abe's mouth dropped open. "Um…"

Henry looked over and noticed Jo in the threshold. Her eyes and mouth widened in surprise.

He swallowed. This was the first time that they had to tell a two-year-old the truth about his or her older brother.

Just then, Jo's hand dropped away from his lower back.

The incongruity of her being in two places at once caused what he was seeing to fade. He opened his eyes and looked around. They were still on the sofa, and his arm was still around her shoulder. Somehow, their other hands were not where he remembered them. Her hand now laid on his chest, and his hand rested on her waist.

He removed his hand from her waist and wiped his face. I must have dozed off.

Sleep started to overcome him again. Henry closed his eyes and placed his hand back where he had found it. He was so comfortable with Jo next to him…

Suddenly, his eyes flew open. He had fallen asleep with Jo in his arms.

His heart started to race as he fully woke up. He had never intended for them to find themselves in this position.

Not wanting to wake her, he slipped his hand off her waist again, gently removed his arm from her shoulder, nudged her off him, and sat her up. He eased off the sofa, supporting her with his hands as he moved. Once off, he lowered her onto the seat and stepped away.

He took a deep breath to calm himself and focused on getting her a blanket and a pillow. As he walked toward the guest bedroom, his mind returned to what he had seen moments ago. It was so real that he didn't even know that he had fallen asleep. In fact, it was almost like a memory or, incredibly, a vision.

That was nonsense. Likely, his subconscious had made random connections from the evening's events. While he had slept, those ideas had manifested themselves in the vivid dream that he just had.

He noticed the end of the hallway growing closer with each step. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he stopped and stepped back to the guest bedroom. He opened the door and stripped the necessary items from the bed. He rearranged the objects so that they wouldn't fall out of his arms, walked out of the room, and started back for the living room.

Once he arrived at the living room's threshold, he stopped and gazed at a sleeping Jo. In his heart, he knew that the connections weren't random. The topics of marriage and a shared life had entered his and Jo's conversations over the last few weeks, and their weighing of the benefits and liabilities of a life together were becoming more frequent with each passing day. They hadn't breached the topic of having biological children yet, but he knew from his marriage to Abigail that the conversation would arise and that they would likely try to have one. Likewise, they hadn't discussed living together, but the night's events had given him a minute, but rather delightful, taste of what it would be like if they were under the same roof.

Years ago, Abigail had made him promise that he would find someone else to accompany him on his journey through life after her passing. At the time, he had believed that his death would annul his promise to her. After she had walked out on him, he had not felt that another woman would be willing to spend her life with him until Jo had walked into his morgue. Now, he found himself thinking that he and Jo were possibly meant to be together for the remainder of her life.

He needed to bring his and Jo's courtship to its logical and natural conclusion soon. A conclusion in which Christmases like this would be an annual event for them. One in which the addition of more children to their family would be welcomed. Where this apartment, or wherever they would live, would be their sanctuary from constant exposure to life's harsher realities. Where he and Jo could fall asleep in each other's arms without fear of impropriety.

In short, he needed to ask Jo for her hand in marriage.

There was just one thing stopping him: Mrs. Martinez's lack of knowledge about his condition. If a difficulty concerning his immortality or his youthful appearance arose, she would suspect something if Jo became evasive during their conversations or if he and Jo suddenly disappeared.

He inhaled. He knew what he must do before he could propose to Jo. Once he saw the opportunity, he would take it.

In the meantime, Jo was probably becoming uncomfortable and would wake up soon. Henry walked over to the sofa and laid the blanket and pillow at her feet. He picked up the pillow, gently lifted her head, and tucked the cushion under her head. He took the blanket and covered her with it. He then leaned over and gave her a soft goodnight kiss on her cheek.

As he left the room for his bed, he took one last look at her for the night. One corner of his mind told him that things would look differently in dawn's first light. Yet, for the first time since the night before his and Abigail's wedding, he wished that a good night's sleep wouldn't change how he felt. Right now, he wanted what he was thinking and feeling to last.