Day 8

Hitch's six-year-old daughter came running into the living room, holding a big plush boa constrictor that was nearly as long as she was tall. "Uncle Dietrich! Uncle Dietrich, look!" Carolyn hopped onto the couch, where Dietrich was reading a magazine. "Look. Auntie Anah made this."

Dietrich looked down at the boa when Carolyn dropped it in his lap. "Impressive. I take it this is your new best friend?"

"Yeah. Auntie Anah says it's an early Christmas present."

"Early? Christmas is less than a month away. She could not have waited that long to give that to you?"

"Nope! She looked very happy."

"Well, good for her."

Carolyn got under Dietrich's arm, snuggling against his chest. "You don't look very happy, Uncle Dietrich."

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"You're frowning. Frowning means sad."

Dietrich had never bothered to control his expression around any of the kids. Especially that particular day. He had been happy to be visiting the Hitchcocks the day before. That morning, he woke up feeling like he didn't sleep at all. "Frowning can mean a lot of things."

Carolyn tried climbing onto his lap. "I think you need a big hug."

Dietrich sighed. "Alright—please, do not put your knees in my stomach. That hurts." He had hoped for some quiet alone-time while Hitch and his parents were out looking at Christmas markets in downtown Wilmington. He was also tasked with making sure the cookies were taken out of the oven—and making sure the kids didn't take any. Seemed easy enough. He wasn't worried about sneaking a cookie or two for himself. The motivation just wasn't there. He had two cups of coffee, and still felt tired.

Fortunately, Hitch's parents told him that he didn't have to accompany them into Wilmington if he wasn't feeling up to it. They could go again tomorrow if he was feeling better. He could never express in words how much he appreciated their accommodation of his depression, even if he felt like he didn't deserve it at times.

Now he was stuck on the couch getting hugged by Hitch's daughter and her toy snake. Dietrich set the magazine down, wondering why all the kids were so insistent on hugging him. He long suspected that their parents had something to do with it, especially since he had heard from Troy, Hitch, and Tully multiple times that he "looked like he needed a hug." Moffitt was a little more respectful of Dietrich's wishes, but even he mentioned a few times that "a little affection wouldn't hurt." Dietrich would never admit to any of the Rats that, occasionally, it was nice, but sometimes it felt like a little too much.

When the timer went off, Dietrich tried to stand. "Please, get off."

Carolyn got off of him, and looked over the back of the couch at Dietrich while he took a tray of gingersnaps out of the oven. "Can I have one, Uncle Dietrich?"

"No. They are still extremely hot," Dietrich said.

"Can I have one when they're not hot?"

"Maybe. Ask your grandmother."

"Uncle Dietrich?"

"What?"

"How come you can eat lots of cookies but don't get a tummy-ache?"

Dietrich hadn't been expecting that question. "It is a special power you gain when you become a grown-up," he said.

"Well, it's a good thing you have that, because Gramma made lots of cookies for you, and she's making you fudge with peanut butter and honey when she comes home."

Such knowledge normally would have made him happy. Instead, it barely made a dent in his low mood. Dietrich made sure the gingersnaps were in a spot where a child couldn't reach them. Before he could leave the kitchen, though, Carolyn had left the living room, still carrying her boa. "Can I have a piggyback ride, Uncle Dietrich?"

"Why?" Dietrich asked.

"Why not? You're tall, like Uncle Moffitt."

How could anyone argue with that logic? Dietrich sighed heavily before crouching down. "Alright. Climb on."

"And can you run really fast?"

"Not in the house."

"But you're a grown-up and you can do whatever you want."

"I am still not running in the house."

"Then can we go outside?"

"It is too cold." Dietrich didn't particularly want the plush boa hitting him in the face, so he tucked it over his shoulder. Even though he didn't do much of anything, or moved very fast, Carolyn clung to him, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

She dropped down from him when the front door opened and Hitch called, "We're back, and we've got goodies!"

"Hopefully, ones that'll put a smile on your face, Hans," Irena said.

"I said he didn't look very happy, Gramma," Carolyn said.

"Uh-oh," Hitch frowned. "Were you pestering Uncle Dietrich?"

"No, Daddy. I gave him a hug, I showed him Auntie Anah's boa, and I asked for a piggyback ride."

"Did he say 'no' to any of that?"

Carolyn shook her head.

"Okay. Just remember what I told you. When Uncle Dietrich doesn't want to be bothered, leave him alone, alright?"

"Yes, Daddy."

Hitch looked over at Dietrich when Carolyn left the room. "Are you okay? You really do look… sadder than you did this morning."

Dietrich shrugged. "Hell if I know."

"Is something bothering you?"

"No, not really. I was fine yesterday. Now… I want to lie down for a while."

"Mark, would you mind if I talk with Hans alone for a few minutes?" Irena asked.

"Sure, go ahead." Hitch hung up his jacket, and went to go find Carolyn.

Irena picked up some of the shopping bags. She sighed when she saw Dietrich taking the rest. "You don't have to do that."

"Why? I am trying to help," Dietrich replied.

"And I'm trying to make things easy for you. Since you're up, go ahead and set those on the counter, dearie." Irena looked over the gingersnaps in the kitchen. "I imagine on a better day, half of these would've disappeared."

"Try 'all of them,'" Dietrich said. "Your gingersnaps are irresistible."

"Until your depression kicks in."

"Pretty much."

"Is there anything we can do to help?"

Dietrich shrugged. "No. Not really."

Irena was quiet for a moment. "I don't want to be insensitive, and, please, be honest if what I say is hurtful… maybe taking your mind off it will help."

"In all the years I have known you, you have never said or suggested anything insensitive or hurtful in regards to my… condition."

"Well, I try." Irena picked up one of the cookies to test their temperature. "Would you like to be the first to have one?"

"I would think your own granddaughter should be the first to have one."

"She can have the second. Or third. Or however many after you if your sweet tooth suddenly decides to come back."

Dietrich doubted that would happen, but, not one to argue with Hitch's mother, he accepted the cookie. He expected to be bored. It was the same thing every year, after all. Guilt crashed into him for thinking such a thing. Hans, what is wrong with you? Everything. Everything is wrong. I am a mess and there is no fixing it. Instead of boredom and disappointment, he tasted the sweet molasses and mild spice of the cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg. It was comforting. It didn't fix everything, but he felt somewhat better. Let yourself feel loved, you fool, he told himself. "Whatever magic you have that makes these so good, I want it."

"That recipe has remained unchanged for about three generations," Irena said. "Not sure if that makes a difference, but it reminds me of my grandmother's cookies almost perfectly." She gestured to the rest of the cookies on the tray. "Have as many as you like."

"I thought these were getting iced," Dietrich said. "I can wait."

"Alright, alright."

Frosting the cookies was a process that usually took a while, but Dietrich made it take less time than it normally would have. When there were no more cookies to frost, Irena handed Dietrich the bowl of icing, a spoon, and told him to enjoy. That led Dietrich to suspect she made extra icing on purpose. He wasn't complaining, though.

Carolyn ran into the kitchen, still holding her boa. "Gramma! Gramma! It's snowing!"

"Yes, it is," Irena replied. "Go set your boa on the couch if you want a cookie. We don't want him getting dirty, do we?"

Carolyn dashed off to put the boa in the living room, then returned to the kitchen. "Gramma, I can't wait to be a grown-up."

"Why's that?"

"Because then I can eat out of the mixing bowl like Uncle Dietrich." Carolyn gleefully took her cookie. "Are we going to the park later? Daddy said they're going to turn on a giant Christmas tree."

"We will as long as you remain on your best behavior for the rest of the day."

"I don't want to get on Santa's Naughty List, Gramma. I'll be good." Carolyn turned to Dietrich. "Will Uncle Dietrich come, too?"

Irena glanced at Dietrich, who didn't offer much of a response. "Uncle Dietrich… isn't feeling well, honey."

Carolyn looked disappointed. "Okay." She left the kitchen.

"I might be feeling better later," Dietrich said quietly.

"If you don't want to go, you don't have to."

"Like I said, I might. I would rather not disappoint her."

"I'll leave it up to you, then."

It came as a bit of a surprise to everyone when Dietrich accompanied them to the park for the tree-lighting. He couldn't blame Irena and Hitch for being concerned that he was pushing himself when he wasn't ready. Even he wasn't sure if he was making a necessary push, or if this wasn't necessary at all.

Shortly before the tree lights were plugged in, Carolyn decided to stand next to Dietrich instead of with her parents or grandparents. "It's cold, Uncle Dietrich," she said with a shiver.

Dietrich picked her up without a word. She hugged him tightly, and he returned the gesture, trying to keep her warm. "We will be going home soon, okay?"

Carolyn temporarily forgot about the cold when the tree lit up. There were quiet sounds from everyone who had come to watch. Dietrich couldn't help smiling a little, then he noticed Carolyn looking at him instead of the tree. "You're smiling, Uncle Dietrich," she said.

As tempting as it was to point out to Carolyn that this probably wouldn't last, Dietrich couldn't fault her. She didn't understand why he had been lethargic and sad all day, but seeing him smiling clearly meant something to her. He adjusted his grip on her, his heart feeling a little lighter. "Yes. Yes, I am."