Back to my point of view. A handful of you are keeping up pretty closely, reading same-day or day-after we post. Glad you're liking it so much. ~Ray K.

Chapter Twenty-five: Head Of the Table

When we got back to the third floor, Fraser asked me, "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

I wished I did. I pretty much didn't have a love life—that was nothing new, and my absence while in Canada had put me out of sight and mind of anyone who had been a potential date for me when I left. I'd been pretty wrapped up in the idea of getting Francesca to go out with me, so I hadn't been trying to score with anyone else. I'm sure Fraser would have found that admirable. But I felt a little... depressed. I just told him I'd been too busy to make plans, and that I'd probably just watch TV that night.

Dief pounced on my door and looked at me with a doggy grin.

"Looks like Dief wants to watch TV, too," I said.

"Or he hopes you're planning to eat dinner while you watch," said Fraser.

"Well, I don't mind if he wants to hang out. You're welcome too, if you want," I said. I didn't want him to think I was lonely, but... hell, I was. "But I'll probably just be having canned soup or something for supper," I warned him.

"I'll keep it in mind. Right now, I want to go by the Vecchio house to get the wood stain Ray offered me."

I knew he still didn't have a car, so he'd have to take a bus, which would mean a little bit of a hike for him on each end of the bus route, or a taxi, which was expensive. When I offered to drive him, he said he'd have to start paying me, and that was fine by me.

Fraser asked about my injuries on the way over, and he took some convincing that I was OK. I told him the truth: that my neck was all better and my ribs didn't hurt either, if I didn't touch the sore spot. My hand still hurt, but I could tell it wasn't broken. I guess I appreciated that he was concerned, but I didn't like to say so. And I definitely wanted him to quit worrying so much. It wouldn't do either of us any good.

When we got chez Vecchio, I figured we'd be in, out, and off home again in a couple of minutes, but I was forgetting that we hadn't visited since the whole attempted kidnapping thing. Ma Vecchio actually kissed me in front of Fraser and the kids... I mean, I know they're Italian, but geez... on the mouth? That's pretty embarrassing from a mother figure. The terms "angel" and "hero" were thrown in my direction, which just made me feel weirder. I don't take it lightly that Franny was in a bad spot, and I definitely helped her out of it, but I couldn't have done any different. I'd have hated myself if I did.

When she said we should stay for dinner, I wasn't totally against it. I wanted to see more of Franny outside work, for sure. But I was definitely not dressed to impress at the moment, and I hadn't even showered. Nope, that was no good. Thank god, Fraser got the hint and suggested we could come back later. Most of the time, our nonverbal communication is pretty decent, but now and then he gets a completely wrong message, and it seems like it's always at a really bad time. Like a time when it might put my life in danger. He's saved my life enough times to make up for it, but still.

After I showered and got into some more presentable clothes, I went over to Fraser's and helped him stain his table, which was actually kind of fun. It reminded me of painting the GTO with my dad. Stain on wood is definitely different from paint on metal, though. The fumes are different, too, but I don't know if I'd consider them more or less unpleasant than paint fumes.

I tried to get Fraser to finally tell me about the night Franny surprised him at his old place. I had heard the story before I even met him—it had kind of become a legend at the 27th division. But it had one of those endings you have to decide for yourself, because the two main characters wouldn't come out and say what had really happened. When I met him, I was like, no way this happened. No freaking way. Fraser gives off this innocent vibe that makes you question whether he'd even know what to do with a woman. I know now that yes, he would... but I still doubted that he could be that spontaneous, especially with Franny, because... well, because she's Franny. She's someone he tends to think of in kind of a brotherly way, and her being his partner's sister would probably have made him hesitate, too.

Still, I could never quite be sure that nothing happened, and given that I was hoping to become Franny's boyfriend, I felt it was important for me to know their history. Also, I was just really damn curious. There's nothing wrong with curiosity. But Fraser started to get a little tetchy, so I gave it up for the time-being. Whenever he gets really upset with you, he has this way of making you feel super guilty until you can't stand it and you have to apologize, which is humiliating... passive aggression, I think you'd call it.

I changed the subject and we talked about the fumes that might be starting to effect our judgment. Then we opened the windows and he started talking science, and that irritated me a little because I sometimes think he just knows too much about everything. Not too much, really, just... more than I do. It makes me feel a little dumb. And jealous. Even though half the time it's nothing I need to know, I wish I noticed stuff like that.

I decided to change the subject again, and asked him about the dream catcher. He didn't seem upset that I'd given it to Ray, just confused because he thought it might do me some good. I don't really believe in that mumbo-jumbo, but I didn't have anything to lose, and Fraser was willing to make me another one.

"Would you like me to finish it in time for your birthday?" Fraser asked.

I had never told him when my birthday was, but I knew he knew because he'd checked up on me. It was some kind of coincidence, but my birthday was just a week before Ray Vecchio's. When Fraser first gave me the dream catcher and I told him, "It's not my birthday!" I was partly just annoyed with him at the time, and partly surprised that he'd found out about my birthday and shown up with a present a week late, and barely remembering that it was actually the other Ray's birthday that day. It was a very disorienting day altogether... and the eclipse didn't make it any more normal.

"Whenever is fine," I told him. "You know I don't make a big deal out of my birthday like Ray does."

"Why is that? I've always wondered."

"Why don't you?" I countered. I didn't even know when Fraser's birthday was. I'd meant to find out and never gotten around to it.

"I used to," he said. "I haven't since I was transferred to Moose Jaw. I didn't know anyone there, and it became less important to me to mark the passing years."

"But you know a lot of people here, now," I pointed out.

"It's a different set of people... it would have a very different feel to it."

"Is that a bad thing? I mean, just 'cause we don't play 'kick the cabbage' or 'bobbing for trout,' would that make you hate it?"

He smiled. "No."

"You should try a good ol' American birthday party. With presents and cake... and hey, didn't you say something about Twister that one time?"

"Ah, yes. It's rather popular up north."

"See, I always thought of Twister as a totally American game."

"It was designed in America, you're quite right about that. However, it has become very popular elsewhere."

"I'm sure. So, when is your birthday?"

"It's in November."

"November what?"

"Thirtieth."

"Not Christmas, huh?"

"No."

"I figured you fell off a Christmas tree or something. Or that you'd at least have been a winter baby."

"I was conceived in an igloo at the end of February or beginning of March."

I laughed. "Okay, that makes sense. An igloo? For real? Your dad was a Mountie... was your mom an Eskimo?"

"No."

He didn't seem amused, so I sobered. "Hey, I was just kidding."

"I know."

I kind of wanted to ask more about this igloo conception, but I decided it was better to let it go for now.

"You sit at the head of the table," Ma Vecchio told me when we were gathered in the dining room. "You are the guest of honor."

"Uh..." I smiled awkwardly and glanced at Ray. I knew that was his spot.

But Ray had a grudging smile on his face, and he motioned me over. "Go on, go on," he said, and even pulled the chair out for me.

I sat down, and the others found their places around me. The kids all wanted to sit by me, but Ray told them to "scram" and they moved off down the long table.

Ray's maternal grandfather had even made it out for the occasion. I hadn't seen him for a few months. His health was shaky these days, so he didn't leave his house much anymore. I had heard that he might move into Ray's house permanently so the family could take care of him. He seemed to be having a good day, and smiled and lifted his glass toward me when he caught my eye. I smiled back at him and nodded, wondering if he had ever really understood what I was doing there. I kind of got the impression he thought I really was a relation of theirs.

Ray sat on my right, and Fraser on my left, but when Franny came along and ousted one of the kids from his other side, he quickly moved down a spot. It didn't seem out of character for him to do that, because it did make it easier for Franny to get in on the end... and it also put her next to me. Good man.

"Last time, you said no more taking bullets for each other," Ma said, filling my water glass from a pitcher.

"Well, I didn't," I said. "I tried really hard not to, too."

She chuckled and kissed my cheek. "Well, no more dangerous stuff for a while, understand?"

I didn't see how I could promise something like that, given my line of work, but maybe my suspension would see that it happened. "Yeah, okay," I said. I felt warm. This woman handed out kisses too much. She expected them, too, but usually just when someone was leaving.

A minute later, she and Maria were bringing out two huge pizzas from the kitchen.

"Is this home-made?" Fraser asked, sounding impressed.

"Yeah, we make our own now and then," she answered modestly. "Raimondo, you say the blessing."

Ray cleared his throat and folded his hands. He looked pointedly at each of the kids until they closed their eyes.

I closed my eyes too, smirking.

"Bless us, O Lord," Ray began, "bless Francesca and thank you she's still with us... bless Ray and thank you he's safe. Thank you for blessing us all with this extra-amazing pizza—"

The kids giggled, and he paused until they were quiet again.

"Through Christ our Lord, amen."

We all echoed "amen," even me. I may not believe, but I do feel kind of grateful. Grateful to that family for taking me in, making me feel welcome, and appreciating me like my real family sometimes neglected to do. And I might also feel a little grateful to someone or something else that saw fit not to let me croak that night I faced Tanner.

"Is this a traditional Italian pizza?" Fraser asked while Ma Vecchio started slicing. He was eyeing it as if he knew better.

"Eh, who cares?" Ma said, getting a grin out of me. "It tastes good. And just for you two, we put pineapple and Canadian bacon on this one."

"Oh... thank you kindly."

"Canadian bacon is just ham, right?" I asked, eagerly holding up my plate while she served me a slice. The cheese was stringing out like spider web behind it, like it didn't want to let go. I gathered it up with my fork until it finally came away.

"Strictly speaking, no," Fraser answered me. "What Americans call Canadian bacon, Canadians would call lean back bacon. The back bacon typically enjoyed in Canada is taken from both the back and the pork belly in one cut. It tends to be leaner than regular bacon, but fattier and more thinly sliced than the American equivalent."

"So, this stuff isn't really Canadian bacon," said Franny, sounding disappointed. It had probably been her idea.

Fraser shrugged. "No more than an English muffin made in America is really English. Less so, I'd say."

"Do you like regular bacon?"

"I do enjoy it, though it's not good for the body to indulge in such fatty food on a regular basis."

"Well, this is a celebration," Ray said. "So don't hold back." He passed his plate down toward the second pizza. "Give me some good ol' pepperoni. I only take fruit on my pizza if there's no other option."

I knew pineapple on pizza was one of those things most people either loved or hated. I loved it, but I liked lots of other kinds, too. This one was amazing. Not only did they heap on the cheese, but they actually used fresh pineapple, too. And the Canadian bacon... or "back bacon" or whatever you want to call it, was pretty good, too.

Thanks for reading! Comments? Questions? Smart remarks? Go for it. ~Ray K.