Forty Four - BF
Virgil kept a low profile for the rest of the day. The family sat down to the evening meal and noticed an obvious vacant space.
Jeff was the last to arrive. "Where's Virgil?" he growled.
"We haven't seen him since lunchtime." Alan said.
His Grandmother looked a trifle guilty. "He came to the kitchen ten minutes ago and grabbed his dinner. He said something about not wanting to see us make fools of ourselves, and that he'd eat in his room."
"He what!" Any trace of good mood Jeff had left evaporated. "When we have a meal I expect the entire family to be present. I'm going to get him!"
"Father!" It was Scott who spoke. "Let me go. I think we need to talk."
Jeff took a breath to calm down. "If you really want to. I can talk to him later. Do you want a hand getting to his room?"
Scott retrieved his cane and stood up. "Yeah, if you wouldn't mind."
***
Scott found Virgil's room with his father's assistance. He knocked on the door and was somewhat surprised when he heard it slide back.
Virgil was sitting at his desk toying with his food. He'd played with it more than he'd eaten it. He hated the situation he'd got himself into, but felt that now that he'd made a stand he'd have to stick to his guns. "Come in Scott. There's a chair to your right if you want to sit down." He said quietly. "I guess you have a few words you want to say to me."
The invitation to be seated was ignored. "I'll say I do." Scott surprised even himself with the venom in his words. "What gives you the right to suppose that you know what I can and cannot do?"
Scott was expecting some sort of reply or explanation and was somewhat annoyed when he didn't get one. "You don't know what it's like to be in total darkness all the time, to have your life taken away from you. To lose your hopes and dreams. To become suddenly useless. What good am I now Virgil? I'm no use to International Rescue, I'm no good to the family. The only thing I could do really well was fly and I can't do that anymore! And now you telling me that I'm not pulling my weight?"
Virgil remained silent. He'd let Scott have his say before launching his own attack. "I thought you'd support me Virgil, help me. And all you are doing is giving me more grief than I've already got. Why are you trying to turn our family against me?"
Virgil's continued silence stirred Scott up even further. He began yelling. Yelling that intensified until it reached a climax and he ran out of things to say. He stopped.
"Have you finished?" Virgil asked.
"For the moment, yes."
"Good. Then let me tell you a few things. You asked what gave me the right to know what you can do. I'll tell you. Two months of watching you achieve things that you thought weren't possible. Don't forget it was ME who watched over you as you clambered over the debris at Regnad. It was ME you were with when you climbed that ventilation ladder. It was MY arm that YOU saved. It was you that gave ME hope when I was sure we were going to die. It was ME who shared a hospital room with you for a week. It was ME who stayed with you for over a month and supported you while you were in rehabilitation. It was ME who saw you gain confidence..."
"That doesn't give you the right..."
"Hang on Scott! I let you say your piece now you let me say mine! In that week that we spent in hospital you learnt to feed yourself, you learnt how to get about with only the cane. You could use the phone no sweat. You helped me with things that I couldn't do because of my busted arm. Heck! You saved Joe's life! And all this was without any formal training. Since then you've learnt how to do all that and more. When I left you, you were doing really well. You'd got your confidence back and didn't need any help. And yet you come home and expect our family to do everything for you!"
"Like what!" Scott said stubbornly, but with less assurance than before.
"Like... Before the accident you thought nothing of sneaking out to grab a midnight snack. No need for lights or a cane. You could find your way in the dark! Now you sit in your room all day waiting for someone to come and collect you for your meals!"
Scott didn't say anything.
"The first week home, I was so glad to see you that I was more than willing to do all that I could for you. I figured 'Scott deserves it. He's had a hard time.' The second week was... 'Well he's got to come to terms with it all'. But it's been three weeks Scott! Three weeks of you feeling sorry for yourself."
"Aren't I allowed to?"
"Occasionally, but not all the time. And not at the expense of our family. I'll tell you something else, Scott. I lost all sympathy for you last week, when you made Grandma pick up your slippers."
"She offered."
"They were right beside you! You only had to reach down and get them!"
Scott was silent.
"And what about Trudy?"
"Huh?" Scott was confused. "Who?"
"The little girl. It was, lets see, your second week in rehab. The day that I came to stay. What you didn't know was that I saw Trudy fall over beside you. The therapist who was showing me round was going to rush over and help her, but I stopped her because I wanted to see what you would do."
"I remember." Scott said quietly and he found the chair and sat down.
"Trudy was in tears, partly because of the fall and partly because she was frightened of not being able to see. You talked to her, calmed her down, got her on her feet again, led her over to some chairs, and got her a drink of water. And all the time I'm standing there watching and thinking 'it's going to be okay. Scott's going to cope just fine.'"
"Poor kid." Scott rolled his cane between his palms. "She'd been there a month. She was only nine and had been blinded in a car accident that had killed her father. Her mother couldn't stay with her because she had two younger children to care for and no support. She was alone and frightened."
"She'd been there a month." Virgil said quietly. "You'd only been there one week and yet you were looking after her. You're not helpless."
"So is that what I'm meant to do with my life? Pick up upset little girls? It may have escaped your notice, but there aren't any here on the island. Tin-Tin and Grandma are a trifle old." The anger had returned to Scott's voice. It reignited Virgil's own anger.
"For Pete's sake Scott! Get over it! That explosion cost you two things. Your sight and my respect!"
"I never asked for your respect!"
"No. But you earned it. With the things you did, what you said, your never say die attitude. So you can't see! That's no reason to give up."
"But what am I good for? Answer me that Virgil!"
"Listen to you! I'm fed up with pussyfooting around! You're blind Scott! You're not helpless!"
It was as if Virgil had hit Scott. Up till now no one in the family had mentioned the 'b' word.' "Virg..." he said weakly.
Virgil suddenly felt sorry for his oldest brother again. "Scott... You'll never find out what you can do if you don't try. You're more than just a pilot. You still have a mind. You're intelligent. You still have those leadership qualities that were so valuable to International Rescue. At some point you are going to have to sit down and decide what you want to do with your life..."
"But what can I do?"
"At the moment you're carrying on as if you're planning on seeing out your days sitting on a street with a tin cup and a sign saying 'International Rescue member blinded on duty. Please spare a dime.' If that's how you want to spend the rest of your life then tell me and I'll paint the sign right now and arrange the flight out. If not - you've got to take some responsibility for yourself!"
Scott buried his face in his hands. He stayed there for a long time. Virgil was unable to see his features, to read what was going through his mind. Eventually he felt he had to say something. "I am sorry Scott." He said quietly. "I shouldn't have brought it up in this way, in front of the family. I was just so exasperated that it slipped out."
Scott quietly lowered his hands. "Why do I hate it when you're right?" he eventually asked sombrely. "When I was in rehab, at first I was angry."
"I know" Virgil said. "I've got the scars to prove it."
"You what?"
"I'm kidding. Go on."
"I tried to find someone to blame. I blamed Regnad Corp. I blamed International Rescue. I blamed Father for starting International Rescue. I blamed John for not letting me know that the scientists had gotten out sooner..."
"John's blamed himself too." Virgil said quietly.
"Why? It wasn't his fault. I don't blame him now... you neither. At one point I even blamed you for not helping me more. I think that's why I hit you. And then as soon as I'd done it I realised that hurting you was the last thing that I wanted to do."
He didn't see Virgil stiffen slightly.
Scott sighed. "Then after a bit I started to think, 'It was an accident. It was no one's fault. It was just one of the risks of being a member of International Rescue.' That was when I started to think 'I can do this! I can survive this!' Everything was a major challenge, but I started to learn, with a lot of bruises to the body and ego."
Scott looked towards Virgil, his sightless eyes staring into the middle distance. "And then I came home and it was as if I'd been expecting everything to be as it had always had been. And it's not!" Virgil walked over and knelt beside Scott's chair, laying a reassuring arm around his shoulders. "The shock that's it's not going to be as it was hit me hard. I guess I've gone to pieces. It's me who should be apologising Virg. To you and our family." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Virgil. I hate to say this. But I'm frightened. For the first time in my life, since Ma died, I'm frightened of the future."
No words of reply seemed adequate. Virgil pulled Scott into a brotherly hug. He could feel Scott shaking.
It was a measure of how frightened he was that Scott Tracy willingly submitted to the embrace, even welcomed it. "Help me Virg." He whispered into Virgil's shoulder. "Help me get through this."
"I will Scott. I'll do all I can. Whenever you need help you only need to ask. But only when you need it, not when you only want it. You are NOT helpless. We will find a role for you in International Rescue. I don't know what, but we'll find something that makes use of your talents."
"I wish I could think of something." Scott pulled away and stood up. "You know, you are the only person who can make me see sense"
"At least it didn't involved physical violence this time."
"I thought you'd forgiven me for that!"
"I have, but it doesn't mean that I was happy about it. It hurt! A lot!"
"Oh." Scott said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."
"You can stop saying that. You've apologised for hitting me and I've forgiven you. It over! Finished!"
They were silent for a moment. Then Virgil got to his feet and walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer and took out a sheet of paper. "Scott." He said awkwardly.
"Yes?"
"I want you to keep this." Virgil handed him the paper.
"What is it?" Scott asked.
"It's a declaration, stating that should anything happen to me, I want to donate my eyes to you."
"What!"
"I've discussed it with Father, and there's a signed copy in the safe, but I thought you should be aware of it."
Scott ran his fingers over the raised dots. "I don't know what to say. I'd rather have you in one piece. Besides brown's not my colour." He gave an uncomfortable laugh.
"I know." Virgil said seriously.
"But..."
"Think of it as a gift. Also if anything should happen to me International Rescue is going to be short a pilot, and you're the best we've got."
"But why are you telling me this?"
"Because if the worst should happen, and Father suggests it, I want you to know that it's what I want. Or if he forgets I want you to not be afraid to suggest it to him."
"What do the rest of the guys think?"
"I haven't discussed it with them. The time hasn't been right."
"I don't like this Virgil. I feel as though we're pre-empting the future."
"Don't worry, I'm not about to break the habit of a lifetime and start behaving recklessly, and I'm not feeling suicidal. I just feel that in the event of something happening, we should be prepared."
"Like a good Boy Scout."
"We both know how easily it can happen. We both nearly died in Regnad, and we know how close it was for me later in the hospital. I wonder what the doctors would have suggested if I had died before we knew your condition was permanent."
"This is getting too morbid."
"Okay, I won't mention it again. Just don't forget if the situation ever arises, okay?"
"Okay. Thank you." Scott said numbly as he refolded that page and placed it in his pocket. "I just hope the situation never arises."
"I've gotta admit. I do too." Then Virgil snapped his fingers. "I know what you can do for International Rescue! You can taste test Brains' next batch of edible transmitters. Make sure I don't get a rotten one."
Scott gave a quiet chuckle. "Talking of things edible. How about joining us at the dinner table."
"Sure." Virgil made his way to the door. "Thinking about it, you'd probably do quite well with the tin cup. Being from International Rescue would give you extra kudos." Then he stopped.
Scott hesitated too. "What's wrong?"
"I'm unsure about how our family's going to react to seeing me."
"Don't worry about it. If any of them give you any grief, tell them to come and see me. I'll sort them out. I'm told I've got a great right hook!"
***
The dining room was quiet when they returned. "My dinner's cold." Virgil stated, "I'm going to heat it. Do you want me to heat yours Scott?"
"Yes thanks Virg."
"That's generous of you Virgil." Alan said sarcastically. "Had a change of tune?"
Virgil gave his youngest brother a cold look. "No. Just being courteous. I'm doing what I'd do for any of you - most of the time."
"Virgil!" Jeff growled. "I'll want a word with you later."
"Leave him Father." Scott said gently. "Everything that had to be said has been said."
"Not by me."
"No. But by me... And Virgil. And Virgil was right. I'm sorry, but I have been using you all, maybe without realising it, but I have been. I don't need as much help as you've given me. I'm grateful that you are willing to help me so much, but, as Virgil said, I've got to become more independent. That's not to say..." he grinned ruefully, "that it's going to be easy. I will need help occasionally, making sure I'm wearing the same coloured socks springs to mind, but now the main thing I'm going to ask for is your support. ...And your forgiveness."
Virgil leant against the counter watching his family's expressions. That they were surprised by Scott's admission was an understatement. He felt now was the opportunity for him to try to mend a few bridges. "While we're offering apologies..." he began. "I'll give you all one myself. I shouldn't have blown my stack the way I did. There would have been a better way and time for bringing all this up. I'm sorry if I upset you all. But I won't apologise for what I said."
The buzzer on the reheater beeped and he retrieved both his and Scott's plates. He settled Scott's plate on the appropriate table mat. "Okay Scott. Meat's at one o-clock. Peas at ten, potatoes at seven, carrots at five and your cauliflower's in the centre. Your cup's in the usual place, salt is at twelve o-clock and you'll have to ask Alan to pass you the butter. Okay?"
"Okay." With no problems Scott started tucking into his dinner. The only complication was when he miscalculated the position of his cup and spilt his drink. Without a word he got up, found a cloth and mopped up most of the spillage himself.
Virgil enjoyed that meal.
Virgil kept a low profile for the rest of the day. The family sat down to the evening meal and noticed an obvious vacant space.
Jeff was the last to arrive. "Where's Virgil?" he growled.
"We haven't seen him since lunchtime." Alan said.
His Grandmother looked a trifle guilty. "He came to the kitchen ten minutes ago and grabbed his dinner. He said something about not wanting to see us make fools of ourselves, and that he'd eat in his room."
"He what!" Any trace of good mood Jeff had left evaporated. "When we have a meal I expect the entire family to be present. I'm going to get him!"
"Father!" It was Scott who spoke. "Let me go. I think we need to talk."
Jeff took a breath to calm down. "If you really want to. I can talk to him later. Do you want a hand getting to his room?"
Scott retrieved his cane and stood up. "Yeah, if you wouldn't mind."
***
Scott found Virgil's room with his father's assistance. He knocked on the door and was somewhat surprised when he heard it slide back.
Virgil was sitting at his desk toying with his food. He'd played with it more than he'd eaten it. He hated the situation he'd got himself into, but felt that now that he'd made a stand he'd have to stick to his guns. "Come in Scott. There's a chair to your right if you want to sit down." He said quietly. "I guess you have a few words you want to say to me."
The invitation to be seated was ignored. "I'll say I do." Scott surprised even himself with the venom in his words. "What gives you the right to suppose that you know what I can and cannot do?"
Scott was expecting some sort of reply or explanation and was somewhat annoyed when he didn't get one. "You don't know what it's like to be in total darkness all the time, to have your life taken away from you. To lose your hopes and dreams. To become suddenly useless. What good am I now Virgil? I'm no use to International Rescue, I'm no good to the family. The only thing I could do really well was fly and I can't do that anymore! And now you telling me that I'm not pulling my weight?"
Virgil remained silent. He'd let Scott have his say before launching his own attack. "I thought you'd support me Virgil, help me. And all you are doing is giving me more grief than I've already got. Why are you trying to turn our family against me?"
Virgil's continued silence stirred Scott up even further. He began yelling. Yelling that intensified until it reached a climax and he ran out of things to say. He stopped.
"Have you finished?" Virgil asked.
"For the moment, yes."
"Good. Then let me tell you a few things. You asked what gave me the right to know what you can do. I'll tell you. Two months of watching you achieve things that you thought weren't possible. Don't forget it was ME who watched over you as you clambered over the debris at Regnad. It was ME you were with when you climbed that ventilation ladder. It was MY arm that YOU saved. It was you that gave ME hope when I was sure we were going to die. It was ME who shared a hospital room with you for a week. It was ME who stayed with you for over a month and supported you while you were in rehabilitation. It was ME who saw you gain confidence..."
"That doesn't give you the right..."
"Hang on Scott! I let you say your piece now you let me say mine! In that week that we spent in hospital you learnt to feed yourself, you learnt how to get about with only the cane. You could use the phone no sweat. You helped me with things that I couldn't do because of my busted arm. Heck! You saved Joe's life! And all this was without any formal training. Since then you've learnt how to do all that and more. When I left you, you were doing really well. You'd got your confidence back and didn't need any help. And yet you come home and expect our family to do everything for you!"
"Like what!" Scott said stubbornly, but with less assurance than before.
"Like... Before the accident you thought nothing of sneaking out to grab a midnight snack. No need for lights or a cane. You could find your way in the dark! Now you sit in your room all day waiting for someone to come and collect you for your meals!"
Scott didn't say anything.
"The first week home, I was so glad to see you that I was more than willing to do all that I could for you. I figured 'Scott deserves it. He's had a hard time.' The second week was... 'Well he's got to come to terms with it all'. But it's been three weeks Scott! Three weeks of you feeling sorry for yourself."
"Aren't I allowed to?"
"Occasionally, but not all the time. And not at the expense of our family. I'll tell you something else, Scott. I lost all sympathy for you last week, when you made Grandma pick up your slippers."
"She offered."
"They were right beside you! You only had to reach down and get them!"
Scott was silent.
"And what about Trudy?"
"Huh?" Scott was confused. "Who?"
"The little girl. It was, lets see, your second week in rehab. The day that I came to stay. What you didn't know was that I saw Trudy fall over beside you. The therapist who was showing me round was going to rush over and help her, but I stopped her because I wanted to see what you would do."
"I remember." Scott said quietly and he found the chair and sat down.
"Trudy was in tears, partly because of the fall and partly because she was frightened of not being able to see. You talked to her, calmed her down, got her on her feet again, led her over to some chairs, and got her a drink of water. And all the time I'm standing there watching and thinking 'it's going to be okay. Scott's going to cope just fine.'"
"Poor kid." Scott rolled his cane between his palms. "She'd been there a month. She was only nine and had been blinded in a car accident that had killed her father. Her mother couldn't stay with her because she had two younger children to care for and no support. She was alone and frightened."
"She'd been there a month." Virgil said quietly. "You'd only been there one week and yet you were looking after her. You're not helpless."
"So is that what I'm meant to do with my life? Pick up upset little girls? It may have escaped your notice, but there aren't any here on the island. Tin-Tin and Grandma are a trifle old." The anger had returned to Scott's voice. It reignited Virgil's own anger.
"For Pete's sake Scott! Get over it! That explosion cost you two things. Your sight and my respect!"
"I never asked for your respect!"
"No. But you earned it. With the things you did, what you said, your never say die attitude. So you can't see! That's no reason to give up."
"But what am I good for? Answer me that Virgil!"
"Listen to you! I'm fed up with pussyfooting around! You're blind Scott! You're not helpless!"
It was as if Virgil had hit Scott. Up till now no one in the family had mentioned the 'b' word.' "Virg..." he said weakly.
Virgil suddenly felt sorry for his oldest brother again. "Scott... You'll never find out what you can do if you don't try. You're more than just a pilot. You still have a mind. You're intelligent. You still have those leadership qualities that were so valuable to International Rescue. At some point you are going to have to sit down and decide what you want to do with your life..."
"But what can I do?"
"At the moment you're carrying on as if you're planning on seeing out your days sitting on a street with a tin cup and a sign saying 'International Rescue member blinded on duty. Please spare a dime.' If that's how you want to spend the rest of your life then tell me and I'll paint the sign right now and arrange the flight out. If not - you've got to take some responsibility for yourself!"
Scott buried his face in his hands. He stayed there for a long time. Virgil was unable to see his features, to read what was going through his mind. Eventually he felt he had to say something. "I am sorry Scott." He said quietly. "I shouldn't have brought it up in this way, in front of the family. I was just so exasperated that it slipped out."
Scott quietly lowered his hands. "Why do I hate it when you're right?" he eventually asked sombrely. "When I was in rehab, at first I was angry."
"I know" Virgil said. "I've got the scars to prove it."
"You what?"
"I'm kidding. Go on."
"I tried to find someone to blame. I blamed Regnad Corp. I blamed International Rescue. I blamed Father for starting International Rescue. I blamed John for not letting me know that the scientists had gotten out sooner..."
"John's blamed himself too." Virgil said quietly.
"Why? It wasn't his fault. I don't blame him now... you neither. At one point I even blamed you for not helping me more. I think that's why I hit you. And then as soon as I'd done it I realised that hurting you was the last thing that I wanted to do."
He didn't see Virgil stiffen slightly.
Scott sighed. "Then after a bit I started to think, 'It was an accident. It was no one's fault. It was just one of the risks of being a member of International Rescue.' That was when I started to think 'I can do this! I can survive this!' Everything was a major challenge, but I started to learn, with a lot of bruises to the body and ego."
Scott looked towards Virgil, his sightless eyes staring into the middle distance. "And then I came home and it was as if I'd been expecting everything to be as it had always had been. And it's not!" Virgil walked over and knelt beside Scott's chair, laying a reassuring arm around his shoulders. "The shock that's it's not going to be as it was hit me hard. I guess I've gone to pieces. It's me who should be apologising Virg. To you and our family." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Virgil. I hate to say this. But I'm frightened. For the first time in my life, since Ma died, I'm frightened of the future."
No words of reply seemed adequate. Virgil pulled Scott into a brotherly hug. He could feel Scott shaking.
It was a measure of how frightened he was that Scott Tracy willingly submitted to the embrace, even welcomed it. "Help me Virg." He whispered into Virgil's shoulder. "Help me get through this."
"I will Scott. I'll do all I can. Whenever you need help you only need to ask. But only when you need it, not when you only want it. You are NOT helpless. We will find a role for you in International Rescue. I don't know what, but we'll find something that makes use of your talents."
"I wish I could think of something." Scott pulled away and stood up. "You know, you are the only person who can make me see sense"
"At least it didn't involved physical violence this time."
"I thought you'd forgiven me for that!"
"I have, but it doesn't mean that I was happy about it. It hurt! A lot!"
"Oh." Scott said sheepishly. "I'm sorry."
"You can stop saying that. You've apologised for hitting me and I've forgiven you. It over! Finished!"
They were silent for a moment. Then Virgil got to his feet and walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer and took out a sheet of paper. "Scott." He said awkwardly.
"Yes?"
"I want you to keep this." Virgil handed him the paper.
"What is it?" Scott asked.
"It's a declaration, stating that should anything happen to me, I want to donate my eyes to you."
"What!"
"I've discussed it with Father, and there's a signed copy in the safe, but I thought you should be aware of it."
Scott ran his fingers over the raised dots. "I don't know what to say. I'd rather have you in one piece. Besides brown's not my colour." He gave an uncomfortable laugh.
"I know." Virgil said seriously.
"But..."
"Think of it as a gift. Also if anything should happen to me International Rescue is going to be short a pilot, and you're the best we've got."
"But why are you telling me this?"
"Because if the worst should happen, and Father suggests it, I want you to know that it's what I want. Or if he forgets I want you to not be afraid to suggest it to him."
"What do the rest of the guys think?"
"I haven't discussed it with them. The time hasn't been right."
"I don't like this Virgil. I feel as though we're pre-empting the future."
"Don't worry, I'm not about to break the habit of a lifetime and start behaving recklessly, and I'm not feeling suicidal. I just feel that in the event of something happening, we should be prepared."
"Like a good Boy Scout."
"We both know how easily it can happen. We both nearly died in Regnad, and we know how close it was for me later in the hospital. I wonder what the doctors would have suggested if I had died before we knew your condition was permanent."
"This is getting too morbid."
"Okay, I won't mention it again. Just don't forget if the situation ever arises, okay?"
"Okay. Thank you." Scott said numbly as he refolded that page and placed it in his pocket. "I just hope the situation never arises."
"I've gotta admit. I do too." Then Virgil snapped his fingers. "I know what you can do for International Rescue! You can taste test Brains' next batch of edible transmitters. Make sure I don't get a rotten one."
Scott gave a quiet chuckle. "Talking of things edible. How about joining us at the dinner table."
"Sure." Virgil made his way to the door. "Thinking about it, you'd probably do quite well with the tin cup. Being from International Rescue would give you extra kudos." Then he stopped.
Scott hesitated too. "What's wrong?"
"I'm unsure about how our family's going to react to seeing me."
"Don't worry about it. If any of them give you any grief, tell them to come and see me. I'll sort them out. I'm told I've got a great right hook!"
***
The dining room was quiet when they returned. "My dinner's cold." Virgil stated, "I'm going to heat it. Do you want me to heat yours Scott?"
"Yes thanks Virg."
"That's generous of you Virgil." Alan said sarcastically. "Had a change of tune?"
Virgil gave his youngest brother a cold look. "No. Just being courteous. I'm doing what I'd do for any of you - most of the time."
"Virgil!" Jeff growled. "I'll want a word with you later."
"Leave him Father." Scott said gently. "Everything that had to be said has been said."
"Not by me."
"No. But by me... And Virgil. And Virgil was right. I'm sorry, but I have been using you all, maybe without realising it, but I have been. I don't need as much help as you've given me. I'm grateful that you are willing to help me so much, but, as Virgil said, I've got to become more independent. That's not to say..." he grinned ruefully, "that it's going to be easy. I will need help occasionally, making sure I'm wearing the same coloured socks springs to mind, but now the main thing I'm going to ask for is your support. ...And your forgiveness."
Virgil leant against the counter watching his family's expressions. That they were surprised by Scott's admission was an understatement. He felt now was the opportunity for him to try to mend a few bridges. "While we're offering apologies..." he began. "I'll give you all one myself. I shouldn't have blown my stack the way I did. There would have been a better way and time for bringing all this up. I'm sorry if I upset you all. But I won't apologise for what I said."
The buzzer on the reheater beeped and he retrieved both his and Scott's plates. He settled Scott's plate on the appropriate table mat. "Okay Scott. Meat's at one o-clock. Peas at ten, potatoes at seven, carrots at five and your cauliflower's in the centre. Your cup's in the usual place, salt is at twelve o-clock and you'll have to ask Alan to pass you the butter. Okay?"
"Okay." With no problems Scott started tucking into his dinner. The only complication was when he miscalculated the position of his cup and spilt his drink. Without a word he got up, found a cloth and mopped up most of the spillage himself.
Virgil enjoyed that meal.