Chapter 4

Gibbs briskly stepped out of his father's general store, and, shivered at the cold. The snow was dancing down from the sky, but from the experience of his whole childhood being spent in Stillwater before enlisting, he knew that it would soon become much heavier. He zipped up his bomber jacket, its leather worn from more than 15 winters. Kelly and Shannon had purchased it for him on what inevitably turned out to be their last Christmas, and through all of the ex-wives and closet clean outs, it had stayed his winter jacket. He didn't feel like some of his ex-wives did about clothes: if it was old you should buy a new one and toss the old one. But, although it was older than most of his wardrobe, it wasn't torn or frayed; the leather was just getting a little softer than it had once been. And, the fact that Shannon and Kelly had chosen it especially for him, and had lovingly wrapped it and placed it under the tree, made him feel wrapped in their warmth and love. He always got sentimental when it came to Shannon and Kelly.

He quickly looked both ways, not really caring about if anyone was coming. Stillwater was the kind of community that parents want their children to grow up in, even though the main occupation was coal mining. If anyone was coming, for example, the driver would stop, honk, and wave. Stillwater was like taking a step back in time, in that and another respect. The town consisted of a main road where all the local businesses were established. They had the local Laundromat, the general store, the butcher (Jackson had fresh fruits in a deli container near the back, but not meats), a clothing store, and other conveniences. This led out of town to a train station, and as you went farther into town past the businesses, about a dozen streets branched of forming residential streets.

He jogged across the street to the Laundromat, waved to an old couple on the sidewalk who had been friends of his parents. The last time he had seen them was Kelly and Shannon's funeral. Inside the Laundromat was the woman who had owned and operated it for years and her young granddaughter, who couldn't have been more than 21.

"Jethro!" The older woman exclaimed, "I haven't seen you since you helped repair Jackson's store! It's terrible what those people did to it! And coming into town, firing those horrible weapons like they own the place, what nerve!" She said getting worked up and frantic at the memory.

Gibbs just decided to say "Hello Mrs. Jenkins." Because she was always like this.

"You need the order for your father, dear?" She said, and without an answer on his part, motioned her granddaughter forward, and sent her briskly to the back.

"That's Jamie." She said, once Jamie got out of earshot, "She's going into NYU in the fall, for law school."

He nodded, knowing how proud everyone was of their children, especially around here. If anyone had asked about his team and acted genuinely interested he would tell them about McGee's 3.9 GPA at MIT, Ziva's language and weapons skills, Tony's college sport career and love of movies, and how Abby is one of the best forensic scientist in the country. Of course, no one knew that he knew anything more than what was in their files (like their personal and career information), but because he wasn't as talkative as some people are, he picked up little bits and pieces of conversation, so he knew a lot more than most were revealing to him.

"So, Jethro, are you still at NCIS?" Mrs. Jenkins asked.

"Yes, a team leader of the major crimes response team." Gibbs said, being polite by not giving a lot of details.

"That must be exciting." She said, as Jamie came back with his father's laundry.

Jethro walked outside, holding the garment bags over his arm gingerly. He jogged across the street, and opened the door to his dad's store, where his father was stocking the shelves with packaged crackers.

"Son, run upstairs and put them in the apartment on your mother's buffet in the dining room." Jackson called from a shelf that Gibbs couldn't readily see.

Gibbs ambled up the stairs concealed at the back of the store by a door, and moved through his father's tidy apartment with an ease that a person could only attain by living somewhere for a substantial period of time. After Jethro, his father's business partner, and his mother had both died, Jackson had started running the store full time. By that time, though, Jethro was just about to go into the core. He lived there about a year, but visited often to date Shannon.

He took a look at the contents of the garment bags he was carrying. One held a pair of his dad's grey dress pants and a matching grey suit jacket. Another held a pair of white curtains, which were obviously made before he was born, with lace at the bottom. The last one held a table runner. Curious as to which one it was, as he didn't recognize it, he unfolded it off its hanger. Opening it up on the table, he saw that it was beautifully embroidered in the middle and on the outside edges with roses and vines and some blue, pink, and yellow flowers. The material was a cream color, but it was heavier than the curtains. There was only one person he knew who could embroider so beautifully, and even the thought of it made his breath catch in his throat. It was Shannon.

"Shannon made that for me while you were deployed." Jackson said from behind him, "She sent it with one of the Christmas cards."

Gibbs just nodded, and ran his hands over the beautiful craftsmanship that was created by his wife.