"He's bringing his assistant? To Thanksgiving dinner? Why?" Julie asked.

Matt looked up from his sketch pad. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, the pad on the coffee table, while Julie sat with a book open on her lap. Her mother had called a few minutes ago to wish her an early Happy Thanksgiving, knowing they were catching an early flight to tomorrow morning. Matt grinned. Julie shook her head. He turned the page of his sketch black to a blank sheet and wiggled his eyebrows.

"I don't know," Julie's mother said. "The man had nowhere else to go, apparently, and they were planning to have dinner together. Your father invited them both. You know how he is."

"Are they staying overnight?"

Matt's eyes were fixed on her, and he had a slight smirk on his face.

"Nate is. But Joshua is heading home to D.C. after dinner. We're taking Nate to the airport in the morning to catch a flight to L.A. I guess he has another one of those client meetings."

"He leads a rough life, it seems," Julie said. "Of champagne and fresh nuts in first class."

"I bet he likes fresh nuts," Matt said with a grin. Julie rolled her eyes at him. Matt had, overall, been so mature for his age for so long, that sometimes she forgot what a typical, immature guy he could be.

"I wish you and Matt could be here," her mom said.

"Christmas, Mom. We discussed this. We can't be there every holiday."

"I know. I know," she said, sounding faintly despondent to Julie. "I just think it would be nice, is all."

"If she's complaining," Matt said, "Tell her my grandmother might not live past Thanksgiving."

Julie covered the phone. "Your grandmother is going to outlive my mother." Then she wished her mom a Happy Thanksgiving.

When she hung up, Matt said, "Time to strip. I think I'll have you sit on a stool. Legs spread a little."

"That's not proof of anything, Matthew Saracen."

"I'm telling you, they're a couple."

"My mom said my dad said Nate is dating some chick. So actually, I think I need my first backrub." She scooted forward on the couch. "I'll let you sit behind me."

Matt shook his head. "He was probably talking about his assistant, and your dad just assumed it was a girl he was talking about. Because your dad is not the kind of enlightened and perceptive man I am."

Julie snorted.

"What? I'm an artist. I have perception."

"Then you should perceive that we can't settle this bet yet."

[*]

Tami had expected Nate's assistant to be younger than Nate, though she didn't know why. Nate was only 24, and wildly successful for his age, and perhaps he wanted an experienced assistant, especially since Joshua seemed to serve as something of a researcher, admin, manager, and personal assistant all at once. The man appeared to be in his early 30s, and he was good-looking, with well-styled, short blonde hair, a statuesque face, a lean form, and piercing blue eyes. Tami scolded herself for repeatedly noticing just how good-looking he was. At least she wasn't like her sister Shelley, flirting with a teenage Tim Riggins. It was just an observation, and he was a grown man, after all. It didn't help that Joshua spoke with a British accent or that he presented her with a bottle of Chardonnay when he stepped through the door.

When they entered the living room, Coach Clarence Washington was on one end of the couch, next to the recliner, where Eric was ensconced. Both were glued to the game on the television. Eric muted it when the guests walked in, and introductions were exchanged. After everyone had a drink in hand, Joshua took a seat in the arm chair, Nate sat next to Clarence on the couch, and Tami sat on the other side of Nate. Gracie looked up from where she lay, stomach-down, on the floor. She'd been doing a word search using a black ink pen. She smiled at Nate.

"I brought you Monopoly," he told her, "because your dad mentioned you guys didn't own it."

"Our dad," Gracie said. "You are my half brother."

"Yes," Nate said, glancing at Coach Washington, who was unperturbed by the revelation, as Eric had already given him a cursory explanation of who Nate was. Tami didn't know how much they had talked about it. She didn't think they talked about much beyond football, but she didn't really know what went on in that office, on the field, or when they went out once a week to the pub after Wednesday practice. "It's in my trunk. I'll get it later."

"Nate, you really don't need to bring her a present every time you come," Tami told him.

"He wants to, Mom," Gracie instead. "Don't take that from him."

Joshua and Clarence laughed, while Eric gave Gracie a scolding look.

"You really need Monopoly, though," Nate said. "That's sort of essential as far as games go."

"We had it in Dillon," Eric told him. "I don't know what happened to it in the move." He looked at Tami. "Probably the same thing that happened to my Pop Warner trophies."

"How long have you been in America?" Tami asked Joshua. She was never going to admit that she had secretly buried those trophies in the trash. They were from his elementary school days, after all! And they would take up so much room in the home office.

"I arrived on a student visa a few years ago," Joshua said. "I came for graduate school. In economics."

"And your Nate's assistant?" Eric asked.

Joshua glanced at Nate. "It is interesting being older and more educated than your boss, but it turned out I couldn't find a decent job when I graduated, and I wanted to stay on in America. Nate gave me the opportunity, and I do a lot more for him than picking up his dry cleaning. I get to use my brain. I do a lot of research." He smirked a little. "He may even make me an equal partner one day."

"I never said anything about that," Nate told him. "Who would get my coffee?"

"You Brits," Coach Washington said in a good humored tone, "always coming over here, taking American's jobs."

"No," Joshua said, "you have no idea what it's like working for this man here. I'm just taking one of those jobs Americans won't do."

Nate chuckled and shook his head.

Eric rose from his recliner and shooed Clarence from the couch so he could sit beside Nate. Coach Washington settled into Eric's recliner. "Ahhh…." He sighed as he wiggled in. "So I get to sit on the throne today. Maybe this is a precursor to assuming the crown."

"Not until U-Penn hires me as QB coach," Eric warned him.

"You're not going to get hired by U-Penn," Clarence told him. "Though it's nice to have ambitions."

"You don't know. I got hired by TMU once. Shane State made me an offer."

"Small potatoes, those schools. But at U-Penn…you'd be making close to $300K with bonuses. You'd finally make more than your wife." Clarence chuckled at his own joke.

Eric pointed his beer bottle at Coach Washington while looking at Nate, "I bet your assistant never behaves in so disrespectful a manner."

Nate looked at Joshua and smiled.

"It's just my way of showing affection, Coach," Clarence told him. He pointed his peer bottle at Eric. "This man needs to relax. He's wound like a spring half the time."

"You follow football?" Eric asked Joshua.

"Sure do. Machester's my team."

"Manchester?"

"He's talking about soccer, hon," Tami told him.

Joshua smiled as he motioned to the TV with the glass of chardonnay Tami had poured him. "It doesn't make sense, calling this sport football. The foot almost never contacts the ball."

"It does sometimes," Eric insisted.

"Should be called handball," Joshua suggested. "Or inch ball. They move so slowly across that field."

Nate shot him a warning look. Joshua shrugged and smirked slightly.

"So who are we rooting for?" Nate asked Eric. "The guys in blue, right?"

"Well, that's green, really, son. That's dark green," Eric said.

"It looks a little blue."

"It doesn't look at all blue," Joshua said.

"A little," Nate insisted.

"You must be color blind," Joshua told him.

"Well, okay, those guys," Eric said, pointing to the television. "Not the guys in red."

Tami left the boys to their conversation and went to baste the turkey, but when she shut the oven door, she noticed Nate standing by the kitchen table. She'd prepared the dining room table for today's festivities, but she'd laid out the pies on the kitchen table.

"Looks great," Nate said. "I love pecan."

"Escaping all the talk of football?" she asked.

"Even Joshua's getting into it," he said. He put a hand down on the table. "When's your colleague coming?"

"Dr. Moore probably won't be here until we eat, which I'm trying to time for half time."

"I bet Eric appreciates that." The first name sounded a little awkward coming from Nate's lips. It might have been the first time he used it, Tami thought.

"We try to accommodate each other in different ways."

Nate nodded.

"Why don't you bring your wine into the dining room and sit and talk with me a minute?" Tami suggested.

He plucked up the wine glass he had set on the kitchen table and followed her. They settled into two chairs. The table had six dining chairs, and a seventh folding chair for Gracie shoved awkwardly in on one side. The china had been laid out. Nate looked over her shoulder and asked, "Did Matt paint those?"

She turned to look at the paintings hanging on either side of the hutch, both of west Texas landscapes. "Yes. Eric just hung them yesterday. He shipped them to us for an early Christmas gift." She turned back to Nate. "Eric misses Texas. I think Pennsylvania is more attractive - less flat and barren than where we used to live – but Eric thinks there's something inherently beautiful about the starkness of the west Texas landscape."

"I can see that," Nate said. "It's…strong. Raw. Honest, somehow."

"I suppose it is," Tami told him.

Nate fingered the stem of his wine glass, his eyes fixed on it. "My uh…my mom would like to have told you she was sorry, before she died. For having an affair with your husband. For contributing to injuring your marriage. For thinking about only herself and what she wanted and not about how much her actions might hurt someone else. She was a good woman, and she regretted it, and she wished she could have told you."

A choppy sea of emotions rattled around in Tami's gut. She waited a moment for them to calm a little, and said, "I'm glad to know your mother matured just like Eric and I both did. We were all young, I suppose, and we all had our own separate demons to struggle with. I can tell she did a fine job of raising you."

Nate ventured to look at her, but he didn't seem to have a response.

"This must be a very hard time for you, your first holiday without your mother."

"She was my family," Nate said. "I mean…I have my uncles, and I have the one cousin, but…she was the axis, you know? She was axis of that whole thing."

"Do you feel like it's spinning apart without her?"

"A little bit. I just…I feel like an outsider without her, even in my own family. I can't explain it."

"You don't have to explain it," she assured him. "I think I understand."

"You and your husband, you two have a good, solid marriage, don't you?"

Tami was relieved he was broaching the subject she suspected had long been a topic of concern for him. "We do. I think our marriage gets better with each passing year. Some years are better than others. But you develop a trust. An assurance. "

"I'm glad I didn't mess that up. I thought about that, a lot…you know…whether I should even try to track him down when I found out." He began running his fingers up and down the stem again.

"You didn't mess anything up, Nate. Your father is very glad to have you in his life. And that other stuff, it's so long in our past. But we both want you to be a part of our present. "

Nate smiled. "You do?"

"We do," she assured him. "Both of us."

"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. You're a very gracious woman."

"Call me Tami."

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled.

He took a sip of his wine. "I like him. Eric. My dad. He seems like a good man. Solid guy. I wish…I mean…" He shrugged. "It's hard, starting from scratch, you know."

"I know, honey."

"And…we get along fine…but…I don't really like football. To be honest."

She laughed. "Well I didn't get it at first either. But, you know, he can be pretty convincing. Give him a chance to share it with you. It's more than a game to him. Much more."

"Yeah, I get that at least."

"And, you know, he just finished reading a thick book on finance yesterday."

"Really?"

"So you two will get there. You will."

"Thanks…Tami." Nate shook his head. "That just sounds wrong. Mind if I just call you Mrs. Taylor?"

She smiled, not her for-public-consumption smile, but her for-family-especially smile. "You can call me whatever you want."