The soft light from the kitchen illuminated the adjacent dining room in shadows. Hawkeye stopped in there, just watching his children be themselves. Margaret was silent beside him, her eyes unreadable.
"What is Ma going to do without Grandpa?" said Ben, forking into a pie. "I mean, she always says that he was the reason she and Dad were ever together anyway."
"I think Korea played a part in that too," Ellie replied, stirring her tea and snapping off a piece of the crust.
Ben shook his head. "You know what I mean. He had to act as referee around here."
Ellie made a face and tapped her ear, signaling they were perhaps talking too loud. "Both of them are old enough now to handle each other. They don't seem to bicker as much since Mom stopped drinking. They'll survive," she whispered.
"When are you going to tell them you won't be home this summer?"
Hawkeye looked at Margaret, raising his eyebrows. "School?" he mouthed. Margaret shrugged her shoulders. Part of her couldn't blame Ellie for wanting to stay in Florida.
"I'll tell them when everything's over. All I'd be doing up here is lifeguarding and pissing off Mom. She'll understand even if Dad doesn't. She liked Florida."
Hawkeye felt guilty for eavesdropping. He grabbed Margaret's hand and pulled her along into the kitchen, startling both Ben and Ellie. "Hey kiddos, guess you couldn't sleep either," he smiled.
"Nawp," said Ben. Ellie seemed a little rattled. Hawkeye sat beside her and stretched out his legs.
"I brought some orange tea up with me if anyone wants any," Ellie offered.
"I would love some," said Margaret. "It smells heavenly."
They all sat for about an hour, picking at the pie and not saying much. Hawkeye took it as an opportunity to daydream, remembering all the Thanksgivings and Christmases in the kitchen with his parents, then just his father, then Margaret and the kids.
Margaret looked good these days. As bedraggled as she'd been when they got together after Korea, she seemed to grow younger after a few months in Maine. She looked more like Hot Lips Houlihan, a little curvy, soft around the edges this time. Daniel would sit her down and stuff food in her face and just let her talk. It helped. Hawkeye felt better when she began feeling better. Both still had their demons.
And those demons spilled to Ellie. No one else at the table knew this, but he found Ellie semi-conscious in the hallway the year before, eyes blank, limp and frightening. Hawkeye found pills and was able to get her stomach pumped before anything else happened. Ellie ended up weak and crying on the bathroom floor, holding her father for dear life. "What if I lost you?" he yelled, shaking her. "What the hell would I do?" He never told Margaret. He told his father.
"She is a lot like you. Too damn driven," was all Daniel could said, but there were tears.
"Oh, Charles Winchester called to give his condolences," said Ellie, snapping Hawkeye out of his thoughts. Charles was a good friend now. He had a son a little older than Ben from a failed marriage. "He says he's going to try and make it up today."
"That would be nice," said Margaret. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes.
Ben was still eating. He was a big kid, a regular chick magnet, Hawkeye thought. From the age of about 11 on, the Pierces were on the receiving end of several giggly phone calls a month. The best part was hearing Margaret answer them. "Who do you want? Stop laughing. You want Benny? BEN! GET DOWN HERE! One of your admirers has called, Your Highness."
Ellie was harder to read on these matters. She was clever enough to be sneaky when it came to boys, knowing full well that having Doctor Pierce and opinionated Margaret as parents would scare some of them off.
They all said their goodnights again and shuffled upstairs. The funeral was at one but they expected a steady stream of people all day. Hawkeye stoked the fire and pulled an extra blanket over Margaret. She smiled warmly, the first real smile he'd seen from her in the last few days. "She's a doll once you scrape the war off her," Daniel said once.
His last though before drifting off centered on the three people that depended on him the most. Ellie in the bathtub wearing a wet suit with swim fins, drinking a soda and listening to the radio. Ben, playing whiffle ball barefoot in the snow. Margaret, shaving off exactly half of BJ's mustache while he slept in a chair on their porch.
Lucky us, but God bless us all tomorrow.
Sleep came and it stayed a while.