Hello :P It's technically past midnight here so it's no longer Wednesday! I did get this all checked through ready for upload but then the site was showing an error. It's here now. This one isn't the most Christmassy in the cosy sense but the idea came to me and I went with it. It focuses on a time in James Morgan's life when he tries to give his parents the benefit of the doubt but it ends not so well! Or does it? I hope you enjoy :)
Ages:
James: 41
Charlie: 69
Johanna: 69
Disclaimer: I own the story and the OCs mentioned!
James smirked and he smirked and he smirked some more! As the two of us parked in the spacious driveway of the large, looming house, although I couldn't hear the words that formed from the other end of the phone in which he was speaking into, I could very much imagine. My own lip threatened to curve upwards as yet again; the lavender haired male spoke a string of words.
"Yep. Yep. Yep. I know! Got it. Right. Okay. Got it. Yeah." James' voice rose and fell as he spoke all of these words but his smirk didn't falter. He moved the hand of his that wasn't clutching his phone against his ear and ran it through his locks. Then, he shook his head.
It shouldn't be a surprise that the person on the other end of the phone was his wife and she was reminding him of a few things – perhaps even giving him a pep talk – before he and I exited the car and made our way to the very large Manor House.
My smirk faltered when and only when James laughed yet again, still shaking his head at the words coming from Jessie calling him and his meadow coloured orbs containing a twinkle. As my lips evened out, they pressed together while I thought to myself. After all those years, did she really need to be giving James words of wisdom and a warning about his parents? Probably not! But still, she did exactly that.
And because she continued, the lavender haired male was encouraged to speak back to her, another bunch, but still a cluster of words.
"Mmhmm. Alright. Yeah. Yeah. I will. No. I won't." James replied to his wife all over again and at the same time that my eyebrows threatened to rise, slowly growing restless with observing the same sort of scene and wondering when we were actually going to get out of the car, something changed. Or rather, something was added and it distracted me.
No, it wasn't James finally bringing the phone conversation with Jessie to a close. It wasn't him reaching his hand out after tangling in his locks and reaching for the car door handle. It wasn't even me glancing over to the Manor House and its even white walls and growing curious with the sprigs of greenery that climbed up it. Though I did this too.
What distracted me were the tone and the pace as well as the sound coming from the other end of the phone completely transforming. It caught on almost immediately and I knew that the phone had been passed over to someone else to talk to. And because of this, James very quickly softened and he had another, different smile on display as he listened.
I still couldn't precisely hear the words. But I gathered as much and I knew exactly who they were coming from with James' third and final response. His gentle voice combated fair, concerned words.
"No. No, my love. I know. Okay. Look, I really gotta get in there, okay? Take care. I'll talk to you soon." James spoke, his voice crooning and softening as he spoke to Lynne that time rather than the magenta haired woman. And in my mind, that's all I heard. In my mind, that was all that happened before the two of us were finally exiting the car!
Of course, in reality, the lavender haired male did reply a bit of small talk and he did ask to speak to Jessie again before he hung up, a few pet names slipping out for her as well. But instead of focusing on that and trying to decipher how she felt at being the second person to be uttered sweet names to, I eagerly anticipated leaving the vehicle. And I didn't hesitate to climb up on the shoulder of James when after getting out of his seat via his door; he came around to my one and patted it for me to take a seat on.
It wasn't like I was hugely looking forward to stepping into the Morgan Manor House and greeting the people inside because I wasn't. But it was Christmas. Outside the rather chilly black car, the world was covered in a thick blanket. The leaves were curled up and frail upon branches in trees if there were clinging there at all. There was a feeling of peace in the air.
Yes, I knew that it was this that made me eagerly anticipate the next little while. I wasn't really looking forward to the company. But I was looking forward to observing it. And thankfully, James felt in a similar way. He felt he was able to keep a healthy distance. And that meant everything. His women keeping an eye on him from the other end of the phone did as well.
He smiled over at me as we started walking together and although I smiled back at him, the movements of my mouth were a little more for the sounds that I was hearing. The snow crunching beneath James' boots. I couldn't feel the sensation as I perched upon his shoulder but the sound caused my eyes to crease. The hot air chugging out of the buildings looking down on us. The bird Pokémon singing such a hearty tune.
I really started to believe that nothing could snap me out of that mood. I so hoped that I wouldn't be stood corrected.
James and I stood at the doorstep of his parents' house for a good couple of minutes before it was finally opened. This was down to him lingering there, dallying just a little bit before pressing at the doorbell. But it was also down to it being answered not quite as immediately as if it would have been when a member of staff swung the large wooden doors open.
Rather than a servant of the large Manor House, when the large oak doors separated at last, the lavender haired male was greeted by the sight of his father. This was the only thing in which he was greeted by. He wasn't offered a hello. The words that tumbled out of the deep lavender haired male's mouth first and foremost were rather curt.
"You're late." The suit wearing man stated, his hand sinking away from clutching onto the door which was the entry to his own home before moving into his pocket, pulling out a pocket watch. From where I was standing (sitting), it seemed as though he looked at it for hardly enough time at all to know what exactly it read. The silver pocket watch found refuge close to the older man all over again. And after it did, Charlie added. "Well don't just stand there. I don't pay to heat these gardens of mine!"
The slamming sound of the door that erupted through the Manor House after we all entered didn't send a shiver down my spine as much as the words that I heard from James' father. But still, although the lavender haired male and I resisted looking at one another, I could not say that Charlie's words were exactly rude. Not in the way that we were used to.
Sure, they were pretty curt. And his moustache quivered on his face as he spoke like he'd just sucked on a very bitter sweet! But they were not as downright malicious and insulting as they very much could be. So for this, we were oddly grateful. And for this, James managed to utter politely enough in response before we were led down the vast halls of his childhood home.
"I'm glad to be here. I was flattered when it came to my attention that you wanted to see me so near to Christmas." James imperturbably found his voice as he followed his father's rather quick and spritely pace in spite of his age and his prior shortness.
I swivelled my head to the side to look at the lavender haired male but yet again, we didn't meet each other's gaze. After I observed that at least the latter part of his words were true and he had started to talk more elaborately and longer sentences in between the presence of the moustached man, Charlie grunted.
Charlie grunted and that was all. I couldn't read that little noise that escaped from his lips. I figured that James felt similarly. I felt him shrug as I remained upon his shoulder. But then my eyes wandered up towards the ceiling as we were lead further on into the house, no doubt to greet the other person living there as well.
Distracted wonder forming in my throat at all the golden chandeliers and the faces and the artwork etched into the wallpaper clinging to the ceiling and the light bouncing off my pupils furthermore, James stopped trying to match his father's pace as he walked. It started to dawn on him that it wouldn't be only Charlie that he would have to engage with.
I think that he tried to divert his thoughts himself by looking around, his head turning and his eyes a little bit exaggeratedly widening by taking a mental note that there didn't seem to be the usual staff around. They must have been let off early for Christmas, he gathered. That caused his ankle to falter even though he continued to walk.
No staff or servants meant that there would only be his father to talk to and his mother as well. Yes, there was me but I respected that he had his doubts whether I would be enough to save him!
It crossed James' mind that it wasn't like members of staff and servants protected him all that much when he was a child anyway so what was the use when he was an adult?
Oddly, that seemed to comfort him. There was a bit more of pep in his step between that and remembering the words of Jessie and Lynne too. That was a good thing. The three of us had arrived outside the drawing room door and Charlie didn't dream of hesitating.
The deep lavender haired male put his palm flat out on the door and his well-tailored burgundy blazer sleeve rose up as he did so. He pushed it open and headed inside. He expected us to copy. We did.
Charlie being Charlie, he was one to get the words in first as the plum haired woman perched on the chaise lounge looked up and the fire crackled just behind her. The moustachioed male's chest appeared to expand outwards as he clutched onto the lapels of his own blazer, immediately simpering to his wife while James and I resisted sharing a raise browed look for his sake.
"Johanna, my dear." Charlie began and if I wasn't mistaken, James' mother's head started to lower upon hearing her husband's words rather than lifting all the more. Needless to say, that moustached husband of hers didn't notice. He continued loving the sound of his own voice as he resumed speaking. "Your son is here. Pikachu too. Dreadfully late. But here nonetheless!"
My eyes swung back towards Charlie from looking at James and then Johanna. He couldn't stop himself from bringing that point up again, could he? I was impressed by James' composure as he didn't react, outwardly or otherwise.
I felt his shoulders move again as he inhaled while I remained close to him. His mother's head tilted down all over again. And then it started to raise some more. Johanna cast her gaze over to the younger, lavender haired male in the doorway. That gaze. That dark, brown bordering on reddish hued gaze locking onto her son. That same gaze that judged and picked at him all his childhood.
Somehow, James remained casual. His hands managing to resist sliding into his pockets and just one hand letting its fingers subtly rub at his own palm, he acknowledged the plum haired woman with a nod of his head before he acknowledged her with words.
"Hello Mother. Appreciate you having me over here." he offered politely and before my expression could match my face to indicate that I was thinking similar things, Johanna came straight out with them.
Charlie lingered to the side of us both with his hands being the one to slide into his pockets, his body idly swinging and his moustache quirking as he smiled to himself. His wife spoke back to their son. A perfectly arched brow rose further as she did exactly this.
"Oh, am I that to you again once more? I was growing rather tolerant of you calling me by my first name." sniffed Johanna pompously, the precision of her words not being affected by the Southern accent that tumbled out of her lips. James' head threatened to tilt. But I saw the plum haired woman be encouraged to try again after a pause when she didn't receive a proper reaction. "Are things going well?"
I couldn't figure out for the life of me how Charlie was continuing to smile and swing his body by moving from the heels of his feet to the tips of them in his perfectly polished shoes! Maybe he was that little affected by the less than easy-going relationship between his wife and his son. Or maybe he really was that stupid on occasion. Perhaps both.
Regardless, I was impressed with James when he kept his composure and his hands didn't move to hide close to him and in his pockets. His head remained high but in a gentlemanly fashion like his parents drummed into him from an early age. His eyelids momentarily fluttered shut to achieve even more composure.
Then when they opened again and an answer came in his mind, a smile started to form on his lips. He had no reason to hide anything. He had no reason to hide the joy in his life. So James spoke the truth.
"I am wonderful, thank you. Lynne will be having our baby boy very soon. She's perfectly happy and healthy. Baby is too. Family as well. I couldn't ask for anything more." replied the lavender haired male and the more and more that he got into his words; the less they came out like he was proving a point to his mother.
It was true that they were never a point proving thing to begin with. But the more that James' words lingered in his mind and his mouth and he relished in the fact that they were indeed his reality, the more that he started to relax. Yet his hands finally stuffed into his pockets.
Johanna winced, and I was uncertain if it was down to a particular part of the answer he gave or his fingers seeking refuge in his trouser pockets. However, before she could utter her own response, disapproving or curt or something else entirely, Charlie stopped smiling and he opened his mouth.
He stopped smiling but he didn't stop rocking and he took his chance to pipe up.
"Oh, that is wonderful."Charlie agreed and it caused me to turn behind me to look over at him. It was obvious that he wanted to speak for the sake of speaking. Maybe he did think it was wonderful. But that wasn't why he opened his mouth.
Causing my eyes to widen further than even when I looked back at his father, James let out a tiny exhale of amusement as he noticed this as well. It was this reaction that set Johanna off. If he putting his hands into his pockets wasn't ungentlemanly enough, then the private noise that he made absolutely was.
Allowing her innermost thoughts to decorate on her face and change her expression, her perfectly arched brow raised some more and then her face scrunched up with bitterness. She really was far prettier when she minded her own business and kept quiet.
"Oh, James. Really?" Johanna started and the hidden thunderous quality to her words caused her son to reluctantly look over at her, his own brow threatening to rise. Although she didn't boom her voice, there was a vinegary quality to it straight away. Charlie finally halted rocking. The plum haired woman explained her disapproval. "Is it wonderful to be having yet another child out of wedlock with yet another woman?" she sucked in her own cheekbones. James' head twitched at a particular collection of her words. "And here I believed that I taught you better."
I should have known that Charlie wasn't going to step in but I still thought that it was really disappointing that he didn't. From looking straight on at the plum haired woman like James was doing, in my peripheral vision I could sense the moustached male looking up at the ceiling to appear busy. There couldn't have been anything up there that he hadn't seen before.
Like his mother, James' own cheekbones threatened to hollow out. There was a fishhook in his brow. Then they wanted to draw together. He remained silent. He remained silent and knew better than to hiss and retort, even if he longed to defend his family as well as the right to his own choices in life.
Johanna's wine coloured eyes glinted at the response – or lack of one – that she was getting from her son. That time rather than it causing to change her words, she was made to feel glad over the look on his face. In her mind, if he was guilty then he was thinking about his life choices. And if he was thinking about his life choices then he might change them.
I just had to laugh. I didn't out loud. But I did in my mind. I turned to James as I heard his mind ticking for the right way to respond to his mother. Not that there was ever a right way in his experience.
A couple of moments passed before he figured it out. A glint filled his own orbs at the thoughts in his mind and could be seen as clear as day when he came back to Johanna. He then knew exactly what to say.
"Oh, I can ask for Lynne's hand in marriage if you want, Mother." James began in mock obedience, the parental name escaping from his lips to make a point. Johanna remained wary until her lavender haired son said every part of his words. I noted that she knew him well enough to know that not everything was plain to see. "I trust I can count on you to bail me out of jail when I do something that is actually distasteful by marrying two women?"
I can't be certain or this but even in hindsight, I believe that I sensed amusement from Charlie bubbling up through his stomach and into his throat as his feet remained planted on the ground. In spite of this, there was no concrete evidence other than a feeling. He didn't burst out laughing at his son's wit even though I very much would have liked him to do so – and maybe he did as well.
Nevertheless, after Johanna was forced to scoff and the words 'really James' tumbled out from her lipstick decorated mouth, I was given the tiniest touch of respect for the moustachioed male when he finally stepped in. At last, his hands were revealed from bedding deeply in his own pockets.
Those hands of his raised in the air. He tried to break the tension as best as he could. Maybe he was affected by it after all. Maybe he could very much be stupid, but he wasn't being wholly that way on that particular day.
"It's Christmas!" Charlie suddenly spoke and because his attempt at reconciliation was a far contrast in comparison to Joahnna's contempt, his British voice bellowed. His hands lingered in the air before limply dropping down as he encouraged himself to be gentlemanly in front of his wife and son all over again. While both of James' eyebrows moved upwards, his father insisted. "It's Christmas. There shall be none of this."
His hand waved by his side as he addressed the tension that he did indeed feel. Well, he would have had to be the biggest idiot to not notice it at all.
Despite the fact that Johanna and James looked over at each other, it goes without saying that their gaze didn't contain the same warmth as the fire crackling in the corner of the room. They stared at one and other. Then they looked away.
Catching me off guard all over again, it was Charlie who took the opportunity to speak yet again. However, I started to feel as though it wasn't because he wanted to hear his voice and his accent tumbling out of his lips.
His body began to turn towards his son and although he didn't touch him, his hands made patting gestures as though they would plant on his shoulders if they felt natural to do so.
"I'm the one who wanted you here. I thought the two of you should at least say a cheery 'hello' to one and other. Apparently not." Charlie spoke. Apparently not. Those two words of his appeared to echo and linger as James and Johanna looked over at each other all over again, that time looking blankly and not a hint of feeling there – remorse or resentment or otherwise. "Apparently not." Charlie repeated when he caught onto that gaze. "Let's shimmy over to my office then. I'll enlighten you why I asked you here."
I thought it would take a lot more than that to break Johanna and James away from one and other, let alone their stare. Though there was a lot of hostility between them both and there was a lot of nothingness as well, they both appeared to be unwilling to be the first one to let it go.
I shouldn't have been surprised when it was James who eventually did it first, but I was. Letting out a sigh at the same time, he looked away. His fingers twitched against his own side like they thought about rising upwards as a sign of defeat but didn't do this.
Then, I suspected that he privately reminded himself that he had gone in there with an intention to be civil. He had gone in there and had attempted to be polite. It hadn't gone the way he planned. But he didn't think it was entirely his fault.
He had to focus on the fact that his father… wanted him there? He couldn't exactly imagine why!
James stopped looking at his mother entirely and compliantly (and for a rare occasion, gladly) followed Charlie out of the drawing room when he lead the way all over. I patted the lavender haired male on the shoulder as they walked but I tried not to make a big deal out of it. I don't think he noticed either way.
He noticed something else, though. As the door closed behind him and Johanna most likely resumed listlessly flicking through a book and on her chaise lounge in front of the fire, James noticed something else. And what observations that danced through his mind caused him to frown slightly.
Charlie had made a point that it was Christmas. That was why they shouldn't get all het up. It was Christmas. But there wasn't a decoration in sight. There wasn't a wreath. There wasn't a row of lights. There certainly wasn't a Christmas tree. There wasn't even a single bauble. There was nothing.
How could his father try to break the tension up by pointing out that it was nearing that particular holiday? Why had he asked him over when he hadn't even bothered to contact him on his birthday earlier on in the year?
While it was true that it had been James to walk away from those two relationships with his parents so he didn't expect any effort on their part, none at all until that point was made by his father.
He wondered why. Maybe when we all headed into Charlie's office, he would find out. But deep inside, he wanted to walk straight out of there. He had gone in there with his head held high. But the more time that he spent there, the more that he remembered why he had cut them off. And the more that he remembered why he ran away as a child, too.
Charlie pushed open his office door with his palm flat out on the wood and he even more hurriedly didn't hesitate to head on inside. Almost as soon as he was surrounded by the things that he had collected over the years and his own space and the rustic brown décor of the room, I strangely enough noticed that his immaculate clothing didn't appear so tight.
His moustache seemed to grow a tad unruly. His back looked as though it was growing straighter. I couldn't quite tell if it was the room or being away from his wife but it made him present himself a lot more relaxed.
Even without saying or doing anything, he seemed somehow more tolerable. I thought that was interesting. I didn't try to get James to notice the same thing. But I thought that it was interesting.
"Make yourself comfy. I'll fetch you something to wet your whistle. I think you may need it." Charlie broke the silence and spoke to his son. Before the lavender haired male obeyed his words, I at last hopped from his shoulder and couldn't resist moving onto the brown plush arm chair by the window. I could have sworn that the moustachioed man nodded in approval. However, before I could be certain or he could wander over to his drinks tray or James could respond with words, Charlie caught on to his son's mouth parting open before he had a chance to find his voice. "Right."
Wordlessly, Charlie reached for the bottle of non-alcoholic red wine and poured his son a glass before taking hold of a decanter of whiskey and pouring that into a crystal tumbler for himself. His tipple naturally was full alcohol! He wouldn't dream of having otherwise.
James' mouth shut and as he did this, his teeth clicked together. He didn't say anything. He didn't see anything at all. Part of him nearly thought to question whether the label on the non-alcoholic red wine was truthful.
But he didn't speak of this either and his hand running through his locks did all of the talking as well as him quietly accepting the glass from his father when it was handed over to him.
Perhaps he did know him a little bit after all. Perhaps even after trying to cut ties with him, those strings simply could not be snipped away because they shared blood as well as many other things. That wasn't excuse. James thought, that wasn't an excuse.
Remembering one, small thing didn't change anything. He had still spoken words to him a couple of years ago. He had still spoken harsh words to him a couple of years ago. He had still judged his life choices, even if he had said that they were wonderful in front of his wife. He hadn't said sorry. And for that, he would always want to keep things at a distance between the two of them.
The two of them quietly drank. As I watched from the plush brown armchair right by the window, I wondered if that was torture for Charlie who seemed to fill the silences with his own voice every minute of the day. But it could have been tolerable from the way that he continued drinking, his ring-clad pinkie finger tilted outwards just so and his hair starting to unravel some more.
It became a possibility that it was more uncomfortable for the lavender haired man. After downing another mouthful of his non-alcoholic red wine and putting it down on the drinks table for a moment, he ran a hand through his own hair like it was his that was growing unkempt.
"So what did you want me here for? It's unexpected." James questioned and then the second part followed a little bit lamely. It was unexpected to say the least. When had his father wanted anything to do with him during the holiday time? Never. Not since he was a little kid.
Though he didn't speak of such during that moment, I knew of it as much as anyone. It caused my lips to press together in my best display of sympathy, although he wasn't looking at me. He was looking over at his father. His meadow orbs narrowed just a tad and he reached to pick up his wine glass all over again, most likely to conceal his quiet disbelief.
Putting a touch of amusement in my throat to combat the empathy on my face, Charlie's finger sprang up almost immediately since he had put his tumbler down and his body was quick to follow suit. The deep lavender haired male leapt out of his seat!
He didn't hesitate to explain to his son like he had been waiting for him to ask that all along.
"Aha!" Charlie burbled and James' eyes started to narrow more and they continued doing this briefly behind the glass containing his wine as he took another sip to conceal his embarrassment for the older male. The moustachioed male was unaffected. He jolted and danced around the room before finally standing by his own long table in his office, gesturing to all the packages and parcels and bags on it in a twitchy sort of way. "You're collecting all of these, of course. Don't you dare whinge that there's so many of them! It's you who insisted on having so many children."
Charlie's fingers continued waggling as he looked down at all of the wrapped items on his own table. James continued peering hesitantly. Then, after he heard the latter of the words that came out of his father's mouth, his eyes at last became proper lines.
However, before annoyance could fully be decorated on his face as he was filled with unnecessary defensiveness, he thought about all that had been uttered for a moment more. Realisation hit him. Realisation struck him and it struck hard. Not that it was shown on his face.
Slowly and carefully, James put his glass back down on the drinks tray and he stood up, his head subtly tilting. He uncertainly joined his father lingering next to the table and looked at him, his voice filled with a quality of not wanting to be disbelieved but can't helping but be that way!
The lavender haired male's head tilted some more. Then after Charlie's twitchy fingers stopped being the centre of my attention, he spoke, his lips appearing fuller as words escaped out of them.
"For my kids? These are all for my kids?" James questioned, his head nodding just once as he needed to make sure. Before Charlie could nod his head or shake his head or have any other reaction, he added, his hand resting on the walnut wood of the table for something to do. "But… You've never done that."
The words 'at least not for a while' rang through my ears even if they were not spoken. I wondered if it was same for the moustached man. Then I almost hoped that it was the same for him. I had to give him credit if James was not with regards to the fact that he had tried at least once.
I was caught by surprise and I was glad to feel this when instead of getting defensive himself and his curtness – or his malice – showing itself, Charlie merely shrugged his shoulders in his burgundy velvet jacket and he looked down at the table all over.
As he looked down at the table all over, his fingers didn't twitch above it like a new parent desperately waving at their new-born child in the hospital and instead flickered by his side.
"Well, since I gave that son of yours that pocket watch of mine a few months back, I've become rather fond of this gift giving malarkey." responded Charlie and in spite of the fact of his careful, watchful eye, James managed to resist correcting him that it was actually a few years ago since that had happened. Regardless, after a bit of a silence and he continued looking at the side of his father and Charlie looked down at the bundle of items, the older of the two spoke again. "I can only hope that they are all to their individual taste."
I didn't mind observing the other silence that happened. In fact, as I sat in the chair by the window sill rather than climbing up onto it, I welcomed it while looking between father and son. Though they very much looked like that relation to each other, they didn't often act like it. Part of me thought it was a shame. Another, bigger part of me knew that it was pointless to imagine things to be a different way rather than the way that they were.
James felt better keeping a distance. He felt safer too. Less judged. I didn't know what it was like for Charlie. I hardly had the capability to ask, physically or practically.
Instead of pondering all sorts of things, I watched and as I continued doing so, I saw that silence be filled by James slowly moving closer to his father and then eventually to the table, unable stop his quiet curious side from taking over and looking over at the number of presents resting on top of it.
There was a bigger number than the amount of children he had. There was a bigger number than even the amount of children he would have by the end of the year. James didn't speak of this. He spoke of something different.
"They ain't fussy." he replied in response to his father's previous words and not long after he did this, I couldn't refrain from tilting my head and hearing the sentiment behind them. That time, I couldn't stop myself from wishing that they were uttered different. And it wasn't in the way that his mother would have winced at his slang! I would have been curious to see how Charlie would act.
I would have been curious to see how Charlie would react if James had said that his children would be grateful. But of course, the deep lavender haired male never heard this expression so he didn't suspect it either.
He instead wandered back over to the drinks tray and picked up his tumbler before bringing it to his lips. After the whiskey entered his mouth and he swallowed appreciatively, I knew to hide my surprise when I felt his hand absentmindedly rest on the top of my head. He didn't pat me. He didn't stroke me. It just was there.
He must have forgiven me for being late after all. That's what I focused on. That's what I focused on rather than feeling extremely touched. I did that for the benefit of James. But I'm sure that he didn't notice his father's gesture towards me anyway.
The lavender haired male had started looking at the name tags of all of the gift bags and wrapped presents, curiosity finally getting the better of him and for good. I could see the names filling his mind as he looked at each and every one in Charlie's faultless swirly handwriting.
Justin. Jazmyn. Jayme. Jayde. Jayden. Jaxon. Jorgie.
James' thumb ran over the writing on the eighth one before it could be revealed to him what it actually said. Either way, Charlie stopped listing his grandchildren's names in his mind as his son's touch passed over them and he put his drink down all over again when his son's head was about to twitch in his direction.
Charlie bobbed next to James, appearing close to him.
"I hope that the new lad of yours appreciates it. Naturally, I don't know what sort of thing he likes." he started and I knew that there was a part of James that wanted to narrow his eyes, thinking that this was a dig over the fact that he hadn't spent much time with one of his grandsons. But then understanding washed over to him. And at the same time that James read 'baby boy' on the name tag, Charlie's cheeks became more of the colour of the snow outside as he nervously made sure. "It's definitely going to be a boy, isn't it? I mean… We're not going to have a Jayden situation on our hands, are we?"
For the first time that day and maybe for the first time ever, James answered promptly. And as he answered without hesitation, defensiveness was briefly a thing of the past when his lip threatened to quirk upwards.
"I don't think that will happen twice." he answered and Charlie started to slowly nod his head. He didn't immediately seem convinced. James continued rubbing his thumb over the words for his son before adding. "We can't be certain. But I'm sure it'll be fine. I'm sure he'll be grateful too."
I know that I was grateful when the lavender haired male finally said those words. While it was true that he did them very casually and almost breezed over them, they were obviously registered a small amount by Charlie, whose own lips started to curve upwards. His deep lavender moustache twitching up at the sides only proved this.
He bobbed his head. And then after James occupied himself by growing quite surprised at other people close to him rather than just his children having their names on gift bags from none other than his father, he broke the momentary silence all over again.
His moustachioed father had since seated himself down in the dark brown leather arm chair opposite my one. His crystal drinks tumbler was back in his hand. He was looking over at his son rather than the white blanket covered world and the fluttering snowflakes that were starting to come down once more.
James couldn't be prepared for what came next. His father showed actual interest in his life. I wondered if he was unnerved by the lack of judgement in his voice. Or maybe he supposed that there was still time for that to rear its ugly head again.
"So what is it that you and that bunch of yours are actually getting up to on the special day? Let me guess. Turkeys voluminous enough to feed an orphanage? Endless Christmas films? So much dessert that you'll all positively burst?" Charlie questioned and then guessed. And if I wasn't mistaken, then it was the first time in a long time – or perhaps ever – that I didn't see James flinch at his father speculating about his life.
In fact, he almost openly laughed out loud. He still couldn't quite muster it though; even if his nose did crinkle at the thought and his mouth started to grin at the memories that they all usually made, and would go on to make that year.
James continued lingering by the table and all of the gifts but he reached for his wine glass, holding it. Any other, positive reaction, I would have blamed it on the contents of his glass. But that couldn't be the case!
"Something like that." James started and then his eyes began to light up more, those pupils of his flickering through all of the possibilities. He spoke while Charlie tossed his tumbler from hand to hand, quietening down but listening. "Usually we keep to ourselves on Christmas. Just family. Maybe a mingling with the other crazy lots if we bump into them on a walk. But it's usually just us." James took a pause but seemed eager to continue for another moment more. "Then the next day is where we are all together. Yes, food galore. Movies galore. Over at Nanny's. Happiness. Laughter… What?"
After being in the zone of his memories and hopes for the upcoming year, the lavender haired male trailed off when he saw the look on Charlie's face. I had to confess that I hadn't quite seen it. But James had. James had seen a look and it caused him to trail off.
Then it caused him to scoff, any hint of laughter promptly fading away as he questioned his father.
"What…?" he repeated to which Charlie widened his eyes, unaware that he had made any sort of expression while passing his glass from hand to hand. James felt inclined to scoff a second time. "Maybe it's not your cup of tea but…"
For a second time, he trailed off. However, that time it wasn't because he was interrupted by what he perceived as an expression. He wasn't interrupted by words. He wasn't interrupted by anything. He simply allowed his voice and his sentences to quieten down.
Even so, Charlie spoke up like he had interjected. His glass stayed fixed in the one hand. His gaze started to grow fixed as well.
"I didn't say that. I didn't say anything. You're barking up the wrong tree as ever." the dark lavender haired male responded as calmly as he could and then his son copied his quickness in which he added to the conversation.
James allowed one beat to happen then he started again, obviously very certain of a look in his father's eye that he had seen to not let that notion go.
"Then what?" James tried again, ignoring the light dig at him and turning around fully to face the older male, his hands rising upwards slightly. James looked studiously at Charlie. James gazed studiously and then he frowned. His lip quirked up. Needless to say it wasn't amusement that time."Aaaah of course, you want to come and crash the day, don't you? Then why wasn't your intention to save all these gifts so you can at least bribe my kids after turning up uninvited?"
Charlie sighed. In response to his son's words, Charlie sighed and for a rare occasion, he didn't say anything at all. It goes without saying that he brought his glass to his lips all over again and took one of the final swigs of whiskey. But other than that, he didn't say a word.
And I knew that it was because of this that James was forced to keep talking, getting something out of his father because he didn't understand any of the motives that were at play. He still hadn't really gotten an answer. He had been called over to collect gifts. And what? He couldn't relax with or accept the answer he had been given.
It was the first time in years that Charlie had made any sort of effort with him. It was the first time in years that he had asked him about anything and in the reasonable sort of manner.
I understood why James chopped and changed. He didn't know whether he was coming or going. He couldn't figure it out at all. Eventually, he thought he figured it out. He figured that his father wanted to show up and ruin his little bubble of happiness on Christmas Day – probably his mother too. Most likely to prove a point that they weren't far away for too long or forgotten about.
James finally copied his father's sigh. And then after he did that, he folded his arms over his chest to compose himself and stood over Charlie.
"You've buggered off out the country for Christmas for as long as I can remember. Why does it matter what I'm doing or - more realistically when it comes to your interests involving me – not doing with my family and my loved ones?" James retorted. I felt that Charlie deserved that sort of response any other time but he hadn't been exactly uncalled for on that day.
I supposed that it was to be expected that James acted like that, though. Walls went up. Walls went far up. And he grew guarded before he even needed to be just in case.
I wasn't expecting it when Charlie responded promptly again though. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but more so than I felt the urge to look at the lavender haired male during the final moments of their time together on that day, I found myself looking over at the deep lavender haired man.
As I looked over at him, I saw him rid himself of his crystal tumbler containing a droplet of whiskey for good before sighing a second time. His forehead seemed to grow tense. He brushed that away with a motion of his hand. He brushed it away and then replied.
"Not every year. Not this year." Charlie told him and I didn't even look away from him when I heard the nostril exhaling noise coming from his son. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see James wearily running a hand through his hair, smoothing over his own forehead.
After his sigh that perhaps cleared his thoughts a bit, he folded his arms closer over his chest all over and tried again. He clenched his jaw just once. He wanted to rub his temples. But he spoke.
"If you want to visit Nanny at some point then be my guest." James began again and there was a wavering quality to his tones but I was torn whether it was frustration or a different matter. I didn't know if Charlie heard it. I knew that he was listening though. I could tell as I didn't take my eyes off him. James sighed before adding, rubbing his temples properly then. "But why does it matter what I do? Why does it matter at all? You don't even like to be in this region for Christmas!"
I don't think that James' voice actually rose. I don't think that his voice actually rose at all. But in my head, I heard it. And I was almost certain that Charlie heard it as well.
But strangely, more so than the words that rung out from James that were actually not that loud at all, the words that Charlie didn't utter rang out even more so. Instead of muttering the words 'is it any wonder' he didn't say a single word or a single syllable at all.
James swallowed like he did though. James swallowed like he did and he clenched his jaw again and it made me think that his words had rung out loudly for him as well. Or maybe it was all of the emotions coursing through his veins. Maybe it was the feelings.
Perhaps he had been a bit deluded when he thought he could stroll into his childhood home and have an easy going interaction with his parents. Maybe he had been utterly deluded. But maybe he had just been hopeful.
Still, he had lost hope then. There as he was in the same room as his father and he was interacting him, in spite of the small, easier moments, it was shown to him that things would never be faultless. So he deemed it as not worth trying at that point.
He had tried. And that was the main thing. But he wasn't going to try anymore.
It caught me off guard when it was the deep lavender haired male to rise from his seat. Though he was the only one sitting other than me and I had been fixing my gaze on him most of the time, it still caused my eyes to widen just a fraction.
And the air hit my eyes even more when it was Charlie who was the one to speak. Despite very much feeling like anything that he had to say was vastly unwelcome.
"Go and get started with taking all of this to the car. Then you can scurry back to those loved ones of yours." Charlie spoke to him in a simple and a level voice and it was James' initial reaction to silently scoff and then roll his eyes.
But the look that his father gave him soon stopped any of that. Clearly, it was not up for debate. Charlie would always be Charlie. He would always be his father. And he would always comply with what was asked for him and the looks that were shot at him. It was just easier that way.
James still sighed. James still sighed, but he obeyed as well. Shaking his head and a hand running through his hair to show the weariness and the confusion and the disappointment as well, the lavender haired male did what he was told. He took just two bags on the first round and headed off with them.
I didn't know if it was the wind but the office door slammed behind him. I know that it was intentional when Charlie took hold of his crystal tumbler for one more time despite believing another time was the last and he tipped the last mouthful in between his lips.
I thought about leaving. I thought about grabbing some bags and heading out after James and helping him. That was where my loyalties lie, wasn't it?
But I didn't. I didn't do this at all. Though I finally tore my gaze away from Charlie, I remained there, I remained with him and I remained in his office. Looking back, I am very much glad that I did. In hindsight, I am so very glad that I managed to keep my open mind and just observe and let things be the way that they were meant to be.
You see, Charlie and James and Johanna too all needed space from one and other because the more that they wanted each other to be a certain way, the more that there was resistance.
The more that Johanna wanted James to be a gentleman, the more that there was tension. The more that Charlie wanted James to bounce back from the past, the more that there was tension. The fact that James wanted his parents to be different – and he saw that they would never be – gave him a huge amount of tension.
He just had to be happy that his grandchildren received a side of Charlie that was a stranger in the eyes of his own son. He was thinking about this as he loaded the first two bags into his car.
And as he momentarily shut the vehicle boot down and slowly made his way back, Charlie made actions of his own that were slow. No longer with a glass or a drink in his hand, he reached into his office drawers and pulled out something to occupy his mind and his thoughts with.
The moustached man reached in and pulled out a leather brown book that was as rustic as the décor in his office. He sat back down in his chair. I didn't bother to resist peeking. I didn't want to make it too obvious. But I was also just going through the motions. I was just doing it. I was just watching.
And so I watched as after Charlie traced his thumb over the front of the book, he opened it and started gazing down at all of the photo memories that were inside the bound book. Although his thumb didn't trace along the faces and the memories of the glossy photos like he had with the front of the book – and he didn't lovingly stroke them either like James had done with the name tags of his children – the way that he looked down at the book in his lap spoke volumes.
Without staring much at all, I gathered as much. But still, I of course looked. And as I did so, I saw many different things. But I saw the same things too. I saw everything. I saw lots of different Christmas memories. I saw lots of different Christmas photographs. And I saw them all and all of the snapshots of the moments that Charlie, Johanna and James spent Christmas together, before he ran away as a child.
The dark lavender haired male clutched at the corner of the book. He still didn't run his finger along any of the photograph. But a gentle sigh escaped the corner of his only just parted lips. His moustache moved as he then pressed his lips together, a lonely dimple appearing.
In that look, in that moment and on that day, I understood everything. I didn't need to wonder why Charlie and Johanna left the Kanto Region for each and every Christmas. I understood why, even if James never did. I understood why, even if I never told him. I learned why and I learned more during the quietness of his parents rather than the words that they filled the air with.
I pressed my own lips together. Christmas was only Christmas when their son was around. When he left, it stopped being worth celebrating. When he left, it seemed as though he was never going to come back.
Thankfully time proved that wrong. Maybe he would keep his distance from them a little while longer and understandably so. But what none of them knew on that day and I didn't know either was that they would celebrate Christmas together that year after all.
It wasn't in the ways that they were expecting. It wasn't in ways that they were expecting at all. But it happened. It was the first time in a long time. It was the first time in a long time that James would feel a bit more accepted too, at least by one of them.
I knew that they would be unlikely to call it a Christmas Miracle. I was hesitant to label it as that as well. It just was what it was. And when it came to the three of them - that was the best way.
It was what it was. It would be what it would be. And it would be what it was going to be. It was going to be something eventually. And that was worth something letting go of reins to witness.
The End.
There you go! Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed :3 This story does indeed take place right before Lynne has Johnny Jinn and that also means the passing of his Nanny, Josie. This is why he and Charlie end up spending Christmas together, and why they end up reconciling. It certainly will never be smooth sailing. But things do improve even more from this point :P I've tackled James' relationship with his father a couple of times through interaction with his children. But this is the first time I think with his mother. As you can tell, she is less easy-going than even Charlie! Thanks again for reading and I will be back again next Wednesday for another Christmassy fic. See you then!
Amy signing out :)