Chapter 3

Thanksgiving Day

Mrs Vaughn had made a Thanksgiving feast. The oven was bursting with hot food almost ready to be served and it smelled terrific. But Vaughn was still waiting to hear back from Sydney. He hadn't heard from her since their quick conversation that morning. He was still in bed when his cell phone rang at 7:30 AM.

"Hey Vaughn. I just wanted to tell you I've got to take some photos for SD-6 at the Science Museum in Boston. Sark thinks they may have a Rambaldi artifact and not realize it."

Vaughn sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Okay. We want a copy of those photos," he replied instinctively. "How cold is Sloane to send you on a mission on Thanksgiving day?"

"Well, the museum is closed so he figures security will be light. I should be back late tonight."

"Call me when you get back."

"I will. Happy Thanksgiving, Vaughn."

"You too, Syd."

Poor Sydney, he thought. Even on a holiday, when she could have a brief moment of normalcy, SD-6 ruins it for her. He hated Arvin Sloane.

All day long Vaughn kept his cell phone by his side, a fact that didn't escape his mother.

"What? Are you expecting a call from the President that you can't take two steps in this apartment without taking that phone with you?" she teased.

Vaughn blushed and evaded an answer by offering to set the table. But she saw the worried look on his face and she could tell he was distracted.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked concerned.

"Nothing Mom. I'm just waiting to hear from a friend."

"What kind of friend?" she asked raising her eyebrows.

"A good friend. From work." He took a peek at the clock. It had been 11 hours since she called. He looked at the turkey and tried to change the subject. "Everything looks delicious, Mom."

"Sit down, honey. It's almost ready," she said. "I feel very thankful this holiday that you are healthy and that we can celebrate it together." She leaned over to kiss him on the head and she joined him at the table.

"Me too, Mom. Thanks for coming. Sorry for scaring you like that. But I feel fine now, so don't worry anymore."

"Okay, Michael. Now eat," she said as she loaded up his plate with food.

Just as he took his first taste of turkey. his cell phone rang. Finally. He picked it up before the end of the first ring and quickly headed toward his room with the phone.

"Hello?" he asked hoping to hear Sydney's voice.

"Hi. I'm back." It was her.

Vaughn breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"I don't mean to interrupt your dinner. I'm sure you have company," Sydney said hoping the company didn't include Alice.

"No, it's just me and my mom," he replied hoping she recognized the absence of Alice from his guest list.

"I can give you the photos tomorrow," Syd offered.

"What are you doing for dinner?" he asked as casually as he could.

"I'm still at LAX. It'll be another hour before I'm home with the holiday traffic. I told Francie and Will that I was invited to my father's house for Thanksgiving dinner."

"But you weren't?"

"Of course not. Can you imagine him making a family dinner for us? No way. He's in Geneva until tomorrow," she informed him.

"Can you meet me in the warehouse when you get in?" Vaughn asked.

"Vaughn, just have a normal night. You don't need to change your holiday plans because of these photos. I can give them to you tomorrow."

"Please, Syd. Just meet me tonight," he pleaded.

"Okay. I'll see you in an hour," she agreed.

"Bye, Syd."

"Bye."

Vaughn returned to the table in a much happier mood with a huge appetite. He tore through his mother's cooking and smiled at her. She quietly wondered if the phone call had been from a woman. Vaughn was trying to hurry up and finish his dinner so he could leave, but he didn't want to offend his mother by rushing out.

She noticed. She smiled and placed her hand on his, "Michael, I'll clear up the plates. You go and do what you need to do."

He really loved his mom.

While he went to his room to change clothes, his mother began packing the extra food away in plastic containers. When he came out and saw all the delicious hot food he asked her gently if he could share it with a friend who didn't have a mom as good as his. She was touched and packed all the containers in an insulated picnic bag. She reached over to smooth out his hair and pat his cheek.

"Any woman would be lucky to have you, Michael dear."