Chapter 7

Sam threw his head back and laughed. "He did what?"

"Passed clean out," grinned Don.

The two sat at a roadside café just outside of Prospect, a little over an hour from the campground, eating pie and drinking coffee. Sam had stopped at Lost Creek on the way to show Don where he and Jenna lived and worked, but he was on vacation, he didn't want to stay there, so it wasn't long before they hit the road again. It had been drizzling rain all morning, and when it reached downpour proportions they decided to stop and wait it out.

Sam closed his eyes to savor the lemon meringue, then leaned over the table toward Don. "This is Jenna's," he said lowly. "This place buys 'em from the Marina."

Don was impressed. "Really?" He indicated his cherry pie. "This one, too?"

"Yeah. She's a good cook, I think."

"Trust me," answered Don, "this is some of the best I've ever had, even in the big city."

Sam watched Don dig in for more. "So anyway," he said, "how did you ever get him to go with you in the first place? He teaches college, man — he must know a flu shot comes from a needle."

Don paused, took a drink of coffee. "Actually, I sort of didn't tell him we were in line for a flu shot."

Sam put down his fork. "Give."

Don grinned. "Okay. A couple of winters ago, right after our Mom died, Charlie got the flu really bad. He was actually in the hospital for a couple of days. The next winter, Dad and I tried to talk him into the shot, but he wasn't having it. Sure enough, he got sick again — all those people at the college, there's no way he's not in direct contact with a few million germs per day. Anyway, another couple of days in the hospital. The next winter was the one before you met him. He didn't drive then, remember, and it wasn't unusual for me to pick him up at Cal Sci and give him a ride home — especially in bad weather."

Sam nodded, drank some coffee but kept his eyes on Don's.

"So, Dad and I came up with a plan. The next time the rain hit too badly for Charlie to ride his bike home in it, I called him and offered him a ride. Then I called around the city until I found a flu shot clinic in a pharmacy. He was in the middle of a research project around then — well, usually, actually, and he was working on his laptop in the SUV while we were driving there. He wanted to stay in the car and work, but I told him I might need his help, so he came with me, but he brought the laptop with him. He just stood behind me and kept working." The look on his face changed from amusement to…tenderness, that was the only word Sam could think of. "That may be hard to believe," Don continued, "because you've only known him when he's not working, but he can get really single-minded, blind, deaf, dumb. He forgets to eat." Don shook his head. "What's unusual is that twice in the last year — the times he was here — he's left the laptop behind." He took another bite of pie, washed it down with some coffee. "Anyway, we stood there for 20 minutes and he didn't even ask me what we were doing. The person behind him had to keep pushing him forward. So we get to the table where the clinic is set up, finally, and I fill out his paperwork and shove it under his hand. 'Sign this, Charlie.' And he did. Just did what I asked, didn't even read it. The nurse comes around the table and gives me my shot, then asks Charlie to take his coat off. He wasn't even listening. I had to use my best FBI/Big Brother tone to get his attention, and when he looked up, the first thing he saw was this woman standing in front of him with a needle. He turned white as a ghost, his eyes got wide, the pupils dilated, he shot me a look of sheer panic — and the next thing I know, his knees are giving out, he's going down."

Sam laughed again. "Did he ever get the shot?"

"Yeah. I made her give it to him before they got the smelling salts."

Sam still chuckled. "Poor guy. Ends up with a fish hook in his arm."

The waitress came to refill their coffee, and the two smiled their thanks. After she had left, Sam spoke timidly. "Sorry to hear about your Mom," he said. "Charlie told us last year that she had passed, but he didn't say much about it. Mostly it was just in response to Jenna saying she had lost her Dad that year."

Don swallowed. "It was bad," he said. "I'm surprised he told you that much."

"So it must have been good for him to have a brother around, I always wanted a brother. My parents and I weren't what you'd call close, and I thought if I had a brother, I wouldn't be alone."

Don was staring out the window. "Charlie and I have had our problems, and we weren't of much help to each other when Mom was dying. We've had to work hard to make a relationship, the last few years." Sam didn't say anything. He had more questions, but this was really none of his business. To his surprise, Don continued anyway. "You know that Charlie teaches at the university, has a few degrees…" he turned from the window and looked at Sam again. "Did you know he went to Princeton when he was 13?"

Sam wasn't sure he'd heard right, and he put his coffee cup down. "What did you say?"

Don smiled, a little sadly, Sam thought. "You heard me. He's five years younger than me, and he was doing my homework at 7. That kind of gift…it can put a strain on everyone in the family."

Sam mulled this information for a while, still couldn't come up with anything better than, "Wow…"

"So I'm overprotective," Don admitted, "Charlie tells me that all the time. Between trying to make up for some of the stuff I did to him when we were kids, and keeping him safe when he consults for the FBI, it's ingrained in me. I'm sorry." He looked down at the table. "I didn't even give you a chance, I just saw you as a potential threat, something that kept Charlie away from me once already."

Sam didn't know where to start. "Did you just say he consults for the FBI?"

"Didn't mention that, did he? He designs mathematical algorithims to help us detect certain patterns, predict behavior." Don shrugged. "I don't get it. Kind-of feels like he's still doing my homework, sometimes."

"Well, shit," Sam finally said. "Damn."

Don laughed. "It's hard to get used to, I know."

"I want to apologize too," Sam finally said. "Like I said, I always wanted a brother, and Charlie just fell right into position last year. I didn't want to let him go, once he remembered he already had a brother. And he never said anything about what brought him here in the first place, really, he didn't…I just liked to imagine it was you. That I could do better, somehow. I don't know. Anyway, I'm sorry."

Don looked at the rain again. "What a week," he sighed. "We should have had this talk four days ago. Now that we can stop fighting over Charlie, we've got to start home tomorrow."

Sam grinned. "So next time," he said, joining Don in looking out at the rain. "Next time will be different. This day is toast. It's after noon, do you think Charlie will let us come back?"

"He's probably not awake yet," Don answered. "He was still shivering under the covers when we left."

Sam snapped his fingers. "Idea. Rainy weather. Calls for stew. Jenna makes the most incredible stew…Let's head back, stop at the grocery, take a few things home with us. She'll do it to make Charlie warm up."

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Charlie was very much awake, and padded in his bare feet to the door of the RV to let them in when he and Jenna heard the SUV. He was glad to see the relaxed looks on the faces of his brother and his friend, even seemed interested in the idea of stew.

Jenna unpacked the grocery bag, placing meat and vegetables on the small counter. "You boys make nice?" she asked, and Sam grabbed her from behind to give her a kiss on his way past to the small table. "Yes, dear," he said. "Did you know Charlie passed out over a flu shot?"

Charlie's head jerked up from where he stood next to Jenna. He looked at Don. "What else did you tell him?"

"You said you didn't care what we did," Don answered, following Sam to the table.

Jenna patted Charlie's hand. "It's okay, honey. You just stay here and chop vegetables for me." She opened the cupboard over their heads. "This is my one indulgence this year. I bought a great, restaurant-quality cast-iron Dutch oven, from one of the Marina suppliers."

She gripped the edge with her fingers and started to pull it out. Looking at Charlie, she continued. "Vegetable peeler is in that drawer, there." Suddenly something furry brushed her hand, and she looked up at the cupboard to see a tiny rodent rise from the oven, place two tentative paws on her hand and wrinkle its nose at her. Jenna jerked back, screaming, "Mouse! Mouse!", and soon bumped into the wall behind her. Charlie instinctively ducked away, trying to protect his injured arm from the falling cast-iron, but only managed to deflect its path.

All four of them watched it hit the top of his foot, and all four of them heard the resounding crack.