Title: HDTH, Numeral 3: Chinks in the Armor

Author: FraidyCat

Chapter 3: Bonding

The Eppes spent that first night in Eureka, California, claiming two rooms at a historic bed-and-breakfast. It was Alan's way of thanking Don and Charlie for agreeing to the fishing trip. They could have made their Southern Oregon destination in one (very) long day, but they wanted to arrive at the private fishing camp on the Rogue River with plenty of daylight, so they could set up. Eureka was beautiful, on the ocean, and only four hours away, so it had seemed a reasonable choice to Alan.

To his credit, Charlie did not start fishing early. He didn't even suggest a quick tour of College of the Redwoods, where he could no doubt drum up something that would entertain him. A future speaking engagement, or the barely suppressed adulation of math and science faculty. Alan had long ago stopped being surprised when his son was recognized virtually anywhere in the world of academia. He watched the lined and tired face of his youngest across the dinner table that night, and wasn't sure his lack of interest was a good thing.

By 6 the next morning, Alan was chatting it up with the owners of the B&B, bragging about both of his sons and gushing about their vacation. The relaxed, homey atmosphere of the place appealed to him immediately, and relaxed his tongue. Over blueberry pancakes, Alan began to wonder if he should find a nice place in Pasadena and open his own B&B. He loved people, he loved to cook…and he was used to cleaning up after Charlie, after all. That had to qualify him for something. Plus, it would give his life a sense of purpose, now that he had retired for the second time.

He mulled over the possibilities while he tried to be patient enough to let the boys sleep in a little. They were on vacation, and that was part of vacation, wasn't it? It was a chore, restraining himself — he could feel the King Salmon tugging on his line already. He didn't make if until 7 o'clock. Soon, Alan was back upstairs in the double room he had shared with Don (who either won or lost the coin toss, depending on your point of view), accidentally making as much noise as possible. The third time he stood next to Don's bed and dropped the can of shaving cream, he apologized profusely when his son groaned and glared at him out of one eye, and bent over to pick up the can to disguise the fact that he was grinning like a maniac.

As he had known he would, the rudely awakened Don felt he had to share his misfortune with his brother. Alan managed to let them shuffle in a haze through breakfast while he re-packed the SUV. Then he hovered in the doorway of the B&B's dining room until Don sighed loudly and looked at Charlie. "We'll let him drive, so we can sleep the rest of the way. Besides, with the nervous energy he's putting off, we won't need to stop for gas."

Alan had been about to defend himself when he saw Charlie smile almost sadly over a half-eaten scrambled egg. One scrambled egg, and he didn't even have the appetite to handle that. "Fine," he shrugged, scooting back his chair and starting to stand. "I'm done here anyway."

Frowning, Alan met Don's eyes for an instant before he assumed Jewish Father. "Bring the toast, Charlie," he ordered, turning to leave. "You'll get hungry later. You always get hungry on the road, and we are not stopping." He led the way to the SUV and didn't look back as he said it…but he did hope, in his heart, that it was true.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

With Alan at the wheel, the Eppes made good time. He stayed on Highway 101 as long as he could, so he could at least enjoy the passing ocean while he drove. For a while, he pretended that Don's soft snoring was the sound of crashing waves. He was embarrassed, surprised, guilty and just a tiny bit pleased when he heard Charlie's voice beside him a few hours into the ride. He had thought his youngest son was asleep, also.

"I know what you're doing," Charlie accused him softly. "He's not really snoring that loud."

A snort of laughter escaped Alan. "I have an impressive imagination. And it's not like I had anything else to do. I thought you were asleep. Now that I know you're not, we can talk."

In his field of peripheral vision, he saw Charlie stiffen a little. His son looked at him apprehensively. "Are you getting tired of driving? Do you want me to take over, for a while?"

Alan was enjoying piloting the vehicle toward relief, and he reassured Charlie. "I feel fine. I'll let you know if I need a break."

Charlie nodded and turned his head back to gaze out the front windshield. He slumped as far as his seat belt would let him. "Do you mind if I sleep, too? Instead of talking, I mean. You can play the stereo, it won't bother me."

Alan's heart fell, and if Charlie had been watching, like Don was in the reflection of the rear-view mirror, he would have seen that his face did, also. He gripped the wheel a little tighter. "That's fine, Charlie," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. "I guess I did get you up kind-of early."

Charlie nodded again, relaxed his head against the seat and closed his eyes. After a moment of silent relection, Don closed his again, too.

The vehicle made the switch to Interstate 5, and then Highway 66 in Southern Oregon before he woke up again. Don straightened and stretched in the back seat, yawning, looking out the window in slight disorientation. "What happened to the ocean?", he mumbled.

Alan stopped humming off-key with Neil Diamond's Greatest Hits and snapped off the music. He smiled into the mirror. "It's about three hours behind us. We're almost there!"

Don looked at his watch in surprise. "Almost there? You drove the whole way? Dad, I was just kidding when I said Charlie and I would sleep and make you do all the driving. You should have woken me up!"

Charlie stirred at the sound of voices, but didn't open his eyes. "S'matter?" he asked the leather seat cushion he had been drooling on for the last hour.

Don kicked the back of his seat. "Wake up and stop ruining the upholstery, Chuck! Dad says we're almost there!"

Charlie shifted his butt away from Don's offending foot, clearly not awake yet. "Marble rye and cream cheese," he mumbled, and while Don groaned and kicked the seat again, Alan laughed out loud. Charlie was sleeping, and apparently hungry. Don was cranky, and in the mood to dish out some serious Big Brother Torment.

Life didn't get any better than this.