November 16th, 7:24 PM, London
"Noll, dear, did you get enough to eat?" Luella inquired to her son, smiling softly.
"Yes, mum, thank you," he replied. Her smile faltered for a moment, but she recovered quickly as not to spoil the mood of the dinner she had prepared that evening. She had made Noll's favorite: vegetable risotto, mashed potatoes, rolls and raspberry jam, and steamed broccoli florets. However, it was nearing the end of the meal and he had barely cleared half his plate.
"Well, there is plenty more if you're still hungry!" she chirped cheerfully, hoping to encourage his appetite. He said nothing and continued to push mashed potatoes around his plate with a blank expression. "The same goes for you two, as well! Please, eat up," she finished, gesturing at her husband and Lin, whom she had invited to dinner that evening. Martin pushed his cleared plate away from him.
"If I eat anymore I won't have any room for dessert!" he laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood. Lin smiled a bit and nodded his head in agreement. Luella sighed softly and glanced at her son again briefly before pushing her chair away from the table and standing.
"Well, let's clear the table so I can bring out desert, yeah?" she smiled warmly. "Noll, would you help me clear the table?" He immediately pushed away from the table, as if he had been waiting to be excused for some time now.
"Yes, mum," he replied while gathering a stack of dirty dishes to carry to the kitchen. Luella quickly followed suit, leaving Martin and Lin to chat idly. She followed Oliver through the swinging maple door that lead to her very large—and charming, she would add proudly—kitchen and set the dishes on the granite island in the middle of the room. He turned to walk back into the dining room to retrieve more dishes, but Luella reached out and gently grabbed his elbow to stop him. He turned and looked at her, confused.
"Noll…" she bit her lip. "Are you alright?" He had been acting more distant and aloof than usual ever since his return to Europe. At first she attributed it to the solemnity of Gene's funeral, but in the weeks following he showed no signs of recuperation. Now, though she tried her best to hide it, she was very worried about him. Out of her two sons he had always been the more introverted and reserved one, but he was always polite, formal, and always seemed to exude an air of confidence with great zeal for his work. Nowadays, he was still polite and formal, but it seemed less sincere and more like an obligation, and though he was still passionate about his work, it had completely taken over his life. She was proud of his high marks, but there was something just not right.
He hesitated for a moment, and halfheartedly offered, "Of course, mum." He would have fooled anyone else, but not her.
"Sweetheart, you barely touched your food—"
"I'm fine, mum," he asserted. "Please, stop asking me if I am alright over and over again. You sound like Lin," he said before turning on his heels to gather more dishes. She leaned against the counter, heart sinking to her stomach. This whole dinner was an attempt to make him happy, but it evidently failed. She still had one avenue to pursue: Lin. He knew him the best, other than Gene and herself. She hoped he might be able to offer some insight.
The two of them cleared the rest of the table in uncomfortable silence. He returned to his seat, hands folded in front of him on the table, listening to his father and mentor talk. Meanwhile, she brought in small dessert plates, forks, and teacups, accompanied by a tray of biscuits for Oliver (he was not partial to overly sweet treats), homemade chocolate cake for everyone else, and a pot of steaming Earl Grey tea. She was about to plate some biscuits for him when he raised a hand to stop her.
"None for me, please. Just the tea." She frowned again, this time unable to conceal it. She poured him a cup and set it in front of him. He took one sip before standing. "If you excuse me, I have some reading to finish."
"What? Noll, don't be rude. Why don't you stay down here and socialize for a while? You can finish that reading later," suggested Martin, glancing at his wife out of the corner if his eye knowingly. As if he didn't hear, Oliver made a hasty exit with his tea and walked upstairs to lock himself in his room. "Noll!" Martin called after him. "Noll—!" Luella raised a hand to silence him, sinking into her chair in defeat.
"Leave him be, Martin," she instructed quietly. "It's no good." She shook her head. She poured the three of them tea and cut them three hefty slices of cake. "I just don't know what to do anymore. I was hoping this would cheer him up…"
"Perhaps he isn't as upset as you think, dear," Martin proposed. "Maybe he is just trying to focus harder on school. Graduation is just around the bend..."
Lin shook his head.
"I'm inclined to agree with Luella," Lin supplemented. "While he is still acting like himself, he's just…" he pondered for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. "Different."
Martin sighed deeply.
"I know, you're right... I'm just trying to be...optimistic, I guess," he shrugged. He pushed his plate of chocolate cake away from him, suddenly not hungry anymore.
"Do you know what's going on with him, Lin? I was hoping you might be able to help…" Lin hesitated for a moment before nodding.
"I have a very good idea, but it's not something that any of us can fix, unfortunately. I know that isn't what you want to hear," he added when Luella's face dropped, "but this is something he needs to work out for himself."
"Is there anything we can do to help? Anything at all? He barely speaks to us because he's always got his nose buried in a book or is working on his thesis…" she trailed off. "Unless… there are others he would respond to better? Oh!" she sat up straight all of a sudden and slapped her hands on the table, causing the two men to jump. "What about his colleagues from Japan? They've been writing him letters and some of them even sent funeral flowers… Would seeing his friends help?"
A thoughtful expression crossed Lin's face. "Perhaps," he said, stroking his chin pensively.
"Then I believe I have an idea," Luella finished, her face brightening. "But I'll need your help. I can't speak Japanese."
A/N: I know this is a shorter chapter, but believe me, there is a lot more to come.