Well, here's Chapter 11. It's Thanksgiving morning at the Andersons and Auggie gets to enjoy breakfast with his family and some quality time with them. This chapter is dedicated to my favorite No. 11 quarterback who is unmerciful in taunting me to keep the posts coming.
Flight 642 - Chapter 11 - Traditions
Thanksgiving tradition at the Andersons always included a hearty breakfast so the boys wouldn't be whining for something to eat before the main meal in the middle of the afternoon.
Auggie sat on the side of his bed and took a few minutes to get his bearings and visualize his childhood home before he started moving around. He splashed water on his face, and pulled on the comfortable sweats he'd worn last night. He picked up his folding cane, but had second thoughts, again. The furniture hadn't been rearranged, and he felt that using his cane made his family uncomfortable. Besides, he didn't need it to get around his apartment, so he shouldn't need it to move around his childhood home.
Going down the stairs, Auggie heard voices coming from the breakfast room in the back of the house. He followed the sound of the voices and the aroma of his mother's cinnamon rolls.
"You found us," Aaron teased.
"As long as I can follow the scent of Mom's rolls, I'll never get lost." Auggie joked.
Auggie stood in the doorway, visualizing the room the way he remembered it. His dad had grunted a good morning and immediately went back to reading the paper from what Auggie assumed was his usual place at the table. Auggie decided he'd head toward his childhood place at the table. After a couple of cautious steps, he felt his mother's hand gently touch his and without a fuss guide his hand to the bank of his chair.
"I'm guessing you'd like some coffee."
"You'd be correct."
Amanda poured a mug full of coffee and sat it in front of Auggie, who located the cup and began to enjoy its robust caffeinated warmth. Amanda took a plate off the stack on the island and started to fill it for Auggie.
"I'll start you off with a roll and about four slices of bacon, ok?"
"Thanks, Mom." Auggie couldn't wait to sink his teeth into a roll, but he hated being waited on. Amanda sat the plate on the table, leaned over Auggie's shoulder and whispered, "Roll is at 12 o'clock, and the bacon's at 6 o'clock." As Auggie nodded, Amanda squeezed his shoulder.
Auggie enjoyed his breakfast bantering with Aaron and quizzing his father about news reports on the plane incident. Cynthia hustled around the kitchen taking direction from Amanda remarkably well for someone who owned her own catering business. Aaron wandered off to check out ESPN and Fred excused himself to work on a pending case.
"I'm going to get in a couple of hours of work this morning before the rest of the troops land," Fred said giving Auggie a warm good morning pat on the back. "I'll be in my office."
Auggie polished off his breakfast and headed to the sink with his plate. Amanda intercepted him, grabbing the plate. "Mom, I'm perfectly capable of clearing my own dishes."
"Yes, but this kitchen is a hazard zone today."
He went back to the breakfast table to retrieve his coffee mug. "Will you allow me to at least pour myself another cup of coffee?"
Knowing when it was time to back off, Amanda answered, "The coffee maker is where it's always been."
Cynthia was rolling out pie crust on the other side of the kitchen and watching Auggie as he deftly but cautiously poured his coffee. Cynthia and Amanda caught each other's gaze. Cynthia had a wide-eyed look of concern, and Amanda smiled and shook her head … a silent message not to try to help.
"Auggie, why don't you sit at the island while I peel the potatoes? Keep me company while I cook … like old times," Amanda said casually.
Auggie couldn't help but smile from ear to ear remembering coming home from school his junior and senior years and sitting at the island while Amanda put the finishing touches on dinner. The one perk of being the youngest of five, he realized, was the opportunity to be an only child for a couple of years while everyone else was away at college and graduate school.
Auggie sipped his coffee and listened to his mother's stories about the grandchildren, his brothers' careers and, when Cynthia was out of earshot, a few juicy tidbits about Auggie's sisters-in-law.
Aside from almost being blown up at 30,000 feet, this trip home was not nearly as problematic as he had expected. Having consumed his morning's requirement of caffeine, Auggie slid off the bar stool, set the empty mug in the sink and announced in his best dramatic voice that he would take his leave to make himself presentable for the main show.
"Ok, Showoff, You do that," Amanda chuckled.
"What's the dress code for dinner? Should I do coat and tie?"
"You know how your dad feels about special holiday dinners."
"Coat and tie it is," Auggie said has he headed upstairs to shower.
On the way upstairs, Auggie realized how much he was enjoying being able to roam around the house without worrying about bumping into the elderly relatives and young children running circles through the rooms. At the top of the stairs, Auggie heard papers shuffling in his dad's office. He stopped at the office door, leaned against the door frame and asked, "How's it goin', Dad?"
"Not too bad. How about you? … Really, son, how about you?"
"Pretty good. Job's going ok. I've made some really good friends, and there are more good days than bad ones, now."
"Frederick looked up over his reading glasses. "Why don't you come in? The chair's in front of the desk like always."
Auggie edged toward the chair, felt its back and stepped around to sit down. "This brings back some memories. Some I'd like to forget," he chuckled remembering some of the disciplining talks he had received … no earned … in this room.
Fred smiled. "Raising you boys was an adventure … and with you in the mix, it's still an adventure being a parent."
"I wouldn't want you and Mom to get lulled into a false sense of security."
"For your mother's sake, would you please try to avoid another encounter with guns or explosives?"
"I'm doin' the best I can, Dad, but the stuff just seems to find me."
"I've noticed," Fred said. "But I do have a suggestion … or a request."
"What?"
"Do you think you could call your mother a little more often? She worries about you, and maybe she wouldn't obsess about it, if she just heard your voice more often."
"I understand … thanks, Dad," Auggie said as he stood up.
"And Auggie, you know that goes for me, too. It'd be good to hear from you for no reason occasionally."
"Yep."
Auggie showered, shaved and dressed, deciding to wear a shirt and tie with his best cashmere sweater rather than the jacket. He wanted to look relaxed and pulled together for the family who, he knew, would be watching every move he made and inspecting him from head to toe. With that thought, he pulled out his travel shoe shine kit and brushed his loafers to make sure they were clean and almost-military shiny.
He repacked his shoe shine kit and reached for the folded cane on the dresser corner. Again, he had second thoughts about taking it downstairs. "Not necessary today," he told himself and headed back downstairs.
As Auggie passed his dad's office, Frederick glanced up and smiled at the sight of his handsome, dressed up son. "Well, son, you clean up remarkably well," he teased.
Auggie laughed. With a "Thanks, Dad," he headed down the staircase. Rather than go hang out in the kitchen and get in the way of final preparations, (he remembered Anderson men are never allowed into the kitchen at least one hour before guests arrive) Auggie slipped into the living room. Quietly working, feeling his way around the room, he reacquainted himself with the furniture layout and the size and shapes of his mother's prized Tiffany lamps. Moving cautiously to avoid tripping over the ottoman in front of the leather wing back chair in the corner, he settled into his favorite chair in his favorite corner of the house.
He leaned back and relaxed into the chair, put up his feet and willed his mind to see the room that held so many memories for him. A smile spread across his face as the happy memories came to life in his mind's eye.
While Auggie was exploring the living room, Amanda had gone upstairs to freshen up and change before her guests arrived. She had slipped into dressy, but comfortable, flats with a stylish tunic and slacks. As she started to leave the master bedroom, Amanda picked up the little glass perfume bottle and dabbed the merest amount of Channel No. 5 behind her ears and on her wrists. Only then she felt completely dressed for the party.
Amanda padded down the stairs making no noise. At the bottom of the stairs, she stood in front of the door and surveyed her home from her guests' first step inside the door. The house was filled with the aromas of Thanksgiving, and it looked festive but not over decorated. "It's going to be a happy party," she thought to herself.
Before returning to the kitchen, Amanda stepped into the living room doorway to be sure the room was in order. She was taken aback by the sight of her youngest son settled into the corner chair looking as happy as she'd seen him since before he left for Iraq. Amanda had barely made a sound, but Auggie turned his head toward her, "Mom?"
"I didn't want to disturb you. What gave me away?"
"Your Channel No. 5. You always wear it on special occasions."
"What are you doing in here by yourself? Aaron's in the family room watching ESPN. You always seem to enjoy that."
"Getting reacquainted with the lay of the land, so to speak, and remembering … Hummm … visualizing."
Tears welled up in Amanda's eyes and barely dripped from the outer corners … something she rarely allowed, especially when Auggie was close enough to hear a sniffle. Walking toward Auggie, she asked, "Well, how does it look?"
"Pretty darn good," Auggie said through a wistful smile.
Amanda sat on the arm of the chair facing Auggie. "Well, the room hasn't changed much over the years. It just about the same as before ….," she trailed off and couldn't quite finish the sentence.
Calming herself with a deep breath, Amanda placed her right hand on his left shoulder and cupped his dimpled check in her left hand. He tilted his head up to her face intending to smile and say something witty, but realized he had an enormous lump in his throat. He had not been this close to tears since he returned to the States from Iraq.
Neither mother nor son could find the right words.
Amanda took another deep breath. She kissed Auggie's forehead, and squeezed his shoulder as she stood up. The door bell chimed. As Amanda went to answer the door, she called back to Auggie, "So the fun begins!"
Chapter 12 will take Auggie back to Langley where he'll get debriefed and reunited with Annie. Thanks for the kind words and alerts. A journey is always more enjoyable with company.