December 24th, 1996
The last couple of days had been very quiet in the Fischer house. They hadn't argued, but Cal was subdued, and his enthusiasm for the holiday—his entire good mood of late—had evaporated. He had slept in every morning since, and voiced no interest in much of anything other than to continue to cooperatively do whatever she wanted. They watched their favorite holiday films, and he helped her bake a dessert to take over to Charlie and Shelby's.
That morning they had opened their gifts to each other, and while Cal had been clearly appreciative of everything that she had gotten him, it was a quiet gratitude. He appreciated the cologne, the new books, shirts, the film cassette recorder that had been a gift from her and the children, along with recordings of some of his favorite films. There was also the new set of weights he had been eyeing so he could work out more at home between team rugby practices. He had some older ones, but this set had a wider variety and better hand grips. His other set was old, and didn't go as high in weight.
Alyse loved the new headscarf Cal had gotten her, and some silk craft thread from Xing in several colors she did not yet own. There was also nightgown in her favorite colors that danced the line between comfortable and flirty that she knew he had picked because it didn't cross any lines where she wouldn't wear it, though it teased at them. Still, the length was good, the fabric soft, and it would be nice to wear. There was also some of her favorite bath salts, and a new electric mixer for the kitchen. While appliances weren't often gifts in their house, her old hand-held one had finally died, and this one was apparently on Brandon Closson's recommendation as a professional quality machine. It certainly would make baking easier!
They spent the rest of the early part of the day just enjoying each other's company and putting away their new gifts, watching one of Cal's favorite movies, and getting ready to have dinner with Charlie, Shelby, and the grandchildren. Alyse had already wrapped the gifts she had planned for them. They sat in a bag by the door, ready to go.
Cal was trying to act normal, but anytime he thought she wasn't looking, she caught him looking pensive. The smiles slipped.
"You know," she said as they got changed for dinner, "If you're not feeling up to it tonight, I'm sure they'd understand."
"No!" Cal startled her with his vehemence as he buttoned one of the new shirts that she'd bought him. The deep burgundy button-down fit perfectly, she noticed. "The grandkids would be disappointed. They've been looking forward to the holiday for months."
"All right. I just wanted to be sure." Alyse went back to her hair. "You just seemed like you might prefer a quiet night at home."
"Actually, I'd prefer the distraction," Cal admitted. "But… there's something I should tell you before we go."
His voice had that you may not like what I'm about to say tone in it again. Alyse had never liked that one. She could see him standing in the bathroom doorway, reflected in the mirror. "What is it?"
Cal looked resigned. "Charlie… may suspect something. When we were in the hospital I—I tried to get him to smuggle in a drink." There was shame on his face now. His cheeks had even turned a little pink. He averted his eyes.
Alyse almost dropped her hairbrush. It's in the past. Stay calm. "I assume he refused?"
"Flat out." Cal nodded. "We haven't discussed it since, but he's given me looks since then that make me think it's still on his mind."
"Good for him." After all, her son's concerns and suspicions had proved to be right on the mark, even if he didn't know it. Alyse couldn't be mad at him for not telling her. Nothing had come of it, and he had probably hoped it had just been a moment of weakness on his father's part. "Well, I wasn't planning to say anything tonight. So, unless you bring it up, he probably won't either." Besides, there was no alcohol in her son's house.
Cal nodded. "I wasn't."
He didn't move, but stood there in several more long seconds of silence.
"Was there… something else?" Alyse finally asked as she turned to face him directly.
Cal twitched. "There's a corner recess in the back of the lower cabinet with the house tools. There's a… bottle in there. You should take it."
Alyse managed not to stare at him, if just barely. For years she had wondered, suspected, but tried not to doubt. And now, Cal had handed her the location of his stash. "Is that the only place?"
He nodded. "Yes. I swear. There's just the one and… well, now you know. I'm going to brush my teeth." He motioned to get past her, and Alyse understood. He'd given her his most private secret, but he couldn't watch.
"I'll see you at the door." Alyse left the bathroom, and went into the kitchen. She crouched down and opened the cabinet in question. It was one she rarely went into, but everything she ever needed was right there at the front. The light from the kitchen didn't reach to the back. Feeling back past the tools, her hand found the cold, smooth glass. Carefully she pulled out a bottle of what proved to be expensive whiskey. It was still about a quarter full. Standing, Alyse closed the cabinet and walked over to the sink. She popped open the bottle, and unceremoniously dumped it down the drain. Then she threw the bottle out.
Cal came back out a minute later, moving slowly, but walking with his cane. "Ready?"
Alyse nodded, and put a smile on her face. "Yes, let's go." She reached out and took his hand. "We can't disappoint the grandchildren."
Charlie looked around his living room, and felt a warmth inside that always came to him when he got to just sit, and appreciate the family he had, and the life he and Shelby had managed to build. Dinner was over, and his parents were sitting on the couch, surrounded by all four children, while Charlie's father read them one of the new stories they had just gotten as a gift that evening. Unsurprisingly, they were enraptured, and Charlie couldn't blame them. After all, he had taken his own storytelling style from the way he remembered his father reading them when he and Gloria were little. It had always been very dramatic, with voices and an intensity that made every scene exciting. His kids loved it just as much as Charlie had, and it felt good to see them enjoy spending time with their grandpa, and to see his father enjoy time with them. He always seemed to relax around the kids, which was something Charlie had to admit, he had rarely seen his father do. Oh, he had done a good job of acting it around him and Gloria when they were children, during family activities. When he wasn't scolding Charlie for his many—admittedly not thought out—transgressions, he had been fairly even tempered. Except for those rare moments Charlie now understood his father had never wanted his children to see. He knew, because they were the kinds of things Charlie never wanted to show his children.
Charlie hoped none of his kids ever found out about the times he had cheated on their mother. Or really understood that his time away from home had not been because of work… he had run away, for a time, from all of it. He wasn't that man anymore. The way his father was not the man he had been, but everyone did things they weren't proud of. There might come a time where he had to admit it, to protect his children from making the same mistakes. Even if it didn't work.
Right now, they were all young, healthy, happy kids. Shelby had shielded them from the mess he had made of their lives in the early years. For that alone, Charlie would be eternally grateful. It was one of many reasons he was grateful for the love of his life. He dearly hoped that one day, years from now, they would have what his parents had. A relationship that had weathered storms and the worst, certainly, but still endured stronger.
His mother had been right by his father's side all evening. Smiling, affectionate. Even now as they all sat on the couch, and she had Sandra on her lap, one hand rested on his father's thigh. Charlie was just grateful they had both survived the battle, and that his father seemed to have recovered his equilibrium in the couple of months since the hospital. Charlie had felt guilty not telling his mother about his father's requests, but it wasn't his place. He didn't need to add friction to family matters. Besides, his mother was well, and his father was well, so it was clearly fine now.
A click beside him made him turn. Shelby was standing there with the camera, taking another picture. She had taken a bunch already this evening. "Isn't that just the sweetest thing?" Shelby took a couple more before lowering the camera. "I love that they get to spend this kind of time together."
Charlie smiled. "I know my parents love it," he replied just as quietly. The kids and his parents weren't listening to them at all. "Yours do too." They would be having time with them tomorrow, and this would probably play out again with the others. Charlie was relieved that his father-in-law had finally begun to thaw towards him in the past few years. He was fairly certain that Tim Cruse's scowls were mostly for show now. Probably. If nothing else, his charming and well-behaved grandkids kept him on his best behavior.
The first clue the story was over was the kids clambering for another one, even as there were yawns and some fussy noises. Shelby handed the camera to Charlie and was across the room almost before he could blink.
"Looks like it's about bedtime," Shelby said as she helped dislodge his parents from the pile of kids. "We can do one more short bedtime story, but you have to be in your pajamas and brush your teeth before Daddy will read to you, all right?"
That sent them scrambling for the stairs. With a smile, Shelby followed them up.
Charlie turned to his parents, who were getting up from the couch. "I'm glad you came. It's been nice getting to host the holiday meal for once. Shelby was ecstatic."
"We were quite happy not to be in charge of it," his mother assured him as she straightened her outfit a little. "And dinner was delightful."
"Everything was great," his father agreed, transferring himself from the couch back into his wheelchair. Charlie watched, but did not offer assistance. If his father needed it, he would ask. He had arrived walking with the cane, but the chair always came along for if or when it would be needed. Another thing Charlie was grateful for; that his father had regained any ability to walk at all, however occasionally, slowly, and unsteadily. It had taken him a long time to get there, and while he was a terror on the rugby field in a chair, Charlie knew that bit of movement meant more to his father than anything else. Cal smiled as he got settled. "I'm glad the kids liked the story."
"They were enthralled," Charlie assured him. "Shelby got pictures. I'll make sure you get a copy when they're developed. It's rare we can get them all to hold still that long."
"Glad to be a distraction." His father chuckled. "With all these new ways to entertain kids these days, I'm just grateful they'll listen to me read."
"Books are still their favorites, and I hope it stays that way. I enjoy reading to them." Charlie wished they could stay later, but by the time everyone was down, he knew his parents would also be ready to sleep. Better they get home early enough to get through their own evening routine. "And watching you read to them. It reminds me of when Gloria and I were kids. You still tell them just the same."
His father looked startled, then pleased as he and Charlie shared a brief good night hug. "Well, then you shouldn't keep your audience waiting, should you? Have a good night, son. Happy holidays."
"Happy holidays to you too, Dad."
Ted did not think the family had ever had as huge a gathering as they had tonight at Grandma and Grandpa Silverman's house. As much as he liked his mother's parents, they didn't socialize often just because of schedules. So, it had been an unexpected pleasure that they had decided that, instead of going on a romantic holiday out of town as they normally did, his grandparents had invited all of their grandchildren who lived in town over for dinner. With their entire families of course.
Thankfully, the house was largely spacious, for all that it wasn't an unreasonable size for a family. It seemed designed for entertaining. Which was good, since with his family, Ian's family, all of Coran's family, Callista, and Hrafn, that made sixteen guests; seven of them children under the age of five. Apparently, however, this was the best part as far as Ted's grandparents were concerned, because there were plenty of distractions available for small children, several of which involved time with their great-grandparents. His grandmother was well prepared. There was even an appropriate feeding area for babies in chairs, with a spill cloth already underneath for easy clean-up.
Dinner wasn't extravagant, but it was fancy compared to anything Ted or his brothers ever made for holiday meals. Roasted duck and quail, asparagus and onions, fresh popovers, and several side dishes with a variety of vegetables, meats, cheeses, and fruit. Some of which were simpler dishes that the younger children were willing to eat. Not that Ted would have called any of the kids in the family picky eaters.
Or the adults for that matter. Fortunately, his grandmother apparently remembered how much her grandsons ate, because there was enough food for everyone, and still a little leftover, though not much.
Afterwards the children were happily distracted by a festive children's program on the television, leaving everyone else to sit and converse, play card games, and just enjoy themselves. Ted had to admit, it was the most relaxed he had felt in months. Grandpa's stash of expensive liquors from all over the world didn't hurt. Though he only brought them out for tasting, so Ted was fairly sure no one was more than lightly tipsy.
Which was good because otherwise the old board game they were playing around the dining table would have been going far worse. Ted couldn't remember the last time he had played it, but it was a good game for tonight because it allowed for up to eight players, so almost everyone could play. Ted noticed that his grandmother had opted out to go sit with the children in front of the television. She was cradling baby Samantha. On the floor, Joanna kept looking away from the television to herd Leith and Donovan back to the rug in front of it whenever they started trying to crawl away. Grandma was watching them intently, smiling.
"I see Joanna's already the boss," Ted chuckled as Bonnie took her turn.
"Older sibling to the core," Ian grinned. "She's convinced its her job to make sure everyone else is where they're supposed to be. Fortunately, she's not too pushy about it… like some eldest I could name."
"I was not that bad," Coran retorted.
"Oh, yes you were!" Ted replied in chorus with Ian and Callista, before they all started laughing.
"You think you're ready for a girl?" Ian looked back at Ted, as Bonnie finished her turn, moved her pieces, and Grandpa started on his by rolling the dice.
At their last appointment, Ted had been surprised, but happy, that they got a fairly clear look at baby three using the sonogram machine. This one appeared to be a girl, and in about sixteen weeks, he would get to hold her. "Are they really that different from boys?" Ted asked. He couldn't see how they would be. Kids were kids to him.
"Honestly, no," Ian shook his head. "At least, not in my experience so far. Each of my kids has their own personality, but I wouldn't say there are any notable differences I'd say were gender specific. I might feel differently when they're teenagers, but when that happens, I'll let you know."
"According to my brothers, the only difference in their lives when I came along was apparently, I managed to take over without effort." Anika cut in, grinning smugly. "But that may have as much to do with me being the youngest as anything else. I can still outshoot all of them."
"Well, we can't start making predictions on her weapons accuracy just yet, but I'm sure she'll be exceptional at whatever she puts her mind to." Ted leaned to his side and kissed his wife on the cheek.
Callista picked up the dice as Grandpa finished her turn. She grinned. "As long as she gets Anika's common sense, and not yours."
"That seems unfair," Ian surprised him by speaking up in his defense. "Ted's got plenty of common sense."
"Thank you, Ian."
"He just doesn't always use it."
Ted refrained from throwing a game piece across the table. When he was a kid, he probably would have been mad. As an adult, he just enjoyed the good-natured razzing of being with his siblings. That didn't stop him from snapping back with a joking, "I rescind my appreciation."