PERILS
Chapter Nineteen
"I wonder," said Henry, awakening from a nap in the passenger seat as the Doctor drove past endless alternations of farm, pasture, grove, farm, pasture, grove, "if you would mind if we stopped for supper at my daughter's house. I am pretty sure she wouldn't mind but I could call ahead. She's just outside of Roanoke Rapids, which is actually on the way. It's where I thought we'd stop anyway, but she lives just five miles out…."
"Yes of course," the Doctor interrupted, thinking Henry was having a difficult time asking for such a small favor.
"You're surprised I have a daughter," continued Henry, sitting up straight and looking out the window at the passing landscape. "Well, I used to be married. I mean, I am married now, too, but… anyway, that was my first marriage."
"Why shouldn't you have a daughter? Life is not so cut and dried as it's made out to be, you know."
"Yes," laughed Henry, "I do know! You're a funny one, Doctor."
"Everyone keeps saying that. I don't see it, myself." His grin belied his professed lack of insight. "So you're current marriage is…? I don't mean to be snoopy. Well, yes I do, in point of fact, mean to be snoopy. I'll stop if that's not acceptable."
"She's all right. She has a girlfriend. We get along like a house on fire."
"A lavender marriage."
"Yes. If you're wondering which one of us is the beard - we're both the beard. It's a good arrangement."
"No doubt."
"I can take over now if you like."
"I'm all right. I have no idea where we are but I'm all right."
Henry chuckled. "Can I say something without you thinking I'm making a pass? I swear I'm not."
"Sure."
"I just want to say, you're quite good-looking! I don't mean anything by it, no offense!"
"None taken," said the Doctor, "although I don't see it, myself."
"The thing is, you dress… eccentrically. You speak with a British accent but – I could be wrong – I'm pretty sure you're not British, so… you have the affectation you sometimes find. Your hair's a bit on the long side for these parts but you're obviously not a hayseed. People will think you're that way. I don't usually ask. And I wasn't trying to pick you up when I asked. I just thought I'd found... a kindred spirit. Again, no offense."
"You don't have to be so careful with me," said the Doctor, pulling over onto a handy shoulder. "I don't mind that much what people think of me. Everyone's got an opinion. I'm just me. And I'm tireder than I thought I was. I accept your kind invitation to take the wheel again."
*0*0*0*
Henry telephoned his daughter from a pay phone in the corner of a small restaurant on the way to Roanoke Rapids and was told to forego the restaurant meal and sup with her instead. She greeted him at the door with a kiss on the cheek and offered her hand to the Doctor, who shook it; she laughed, apparently having expected a hand-kiss. The Doctor, immediately aware of his gaffe – and also suddenly aware that the laughing young woman probably thought he was Henry's boyfriend – blushed.
"Margaret," said Henry, "This is the Doctor..."
"Oh, Daddy, are you ill?"
"I am known as the Doctor," explained the Doctor. "I am hitching a ride with your father, as I am down on my luck."
"… and this is Margaret."
"Nice to meet you," said Margaret, holding out her hand again; this time the Doctor kissed it. She laughed again, pleased. "Come in, come in. "Forest, Daddy's here and he's brought a friend!"
"Hold your horses," came a grumble from the front room. Forest, a young man carrying a two-year-old boy, appeared in the hallway and looked the Doctor up and down. "Hmmph," was all he said.
"Supper's almost ready." Margaret took the baby from her husband, who turned and led them all into the dining room, seating Henry and the Doctor opposite one another at the table. Forest sat at the head of the table and Margaret sat at the foot, with the baby on her lap.
Everyone (except the baby) bowed their heads and folded their hands, so the Doctor did too, and Forest intoned, "Lord, we thank you for every blessing in our lives. As we eat to nourish our bodies, we pray that you, O Bread of Life, might nourish our souls, so that we may live lives that honor you in all that we say and all that we do. Amen. Our Heavenly Father, kind and good, we thank you for our daily food."
Margaret bounced the baby once and said, "Go on, Woody."
"Amen," pronounced the boy, and Margaret sat him in a high chair next to her own, then got up to fetch the supper, which turned out to be asparagus salad, pot roast with lots of potatoes and carrots and a surplus of gravy, candied sweet potatoes, chess pie and, to the Doctor's further delight, sweet tea.
"Custard tart!" he exclaimed, upon tasting the pie.
Forest didn't say much throughout the meal. The tension between him and Henry was palpable. He didn't address the Doctor at all. Sometimes he glared at him; the Doctor was not overly concerned. He knew that Margaret was not living with her father; he suspected that there was resentment involved in Henry's having left her mother. Whether they knew Henry was gay was not apparent, nor any of the Doctor's business. Soon he and Henry would be on their way, he to Richmond (he had decided) to try to hitch a ride farther north, and Henry presumably to his exclusive accommodations in Virginia Beach.
"Stay with us tonight," offered Margaret, dandling Woody. "We have a bed in the nursery. We used to sleep in there when Woody was newborn. He's a quiet baby, but if you would feel more comfortable, we can let him sleep with us tonight."
"If it's not too much bother…." Henry hedged.
"It is, actually," grumbled Forest, rising from the table. "But I defer to Margaret. Like it or not, you're family." Margaret just rolled her eyes. She'd obviously heard it all before. She took the Doctor's arm and led him into the front room.
"You can use the daybed."
"He doesn't want to use the daybed," shouted Forest. "Why would he want to use the daybed?"
Henry's face was burning. The Doctor said, calmly, "I will be fine on the daybed. That is where I should be finest. Henry and I don't know each other very well. We've only just met, but I hold him in the highest regard as a friend. He has treated me very kindly and I would be quite distressed to imagine his being treated unkindly, especially on my account. We have no need to share a bed. There was no need for you to taunt him, even had we turned out to be lovers." He turned to Margaret. "Supper was lovely. Thank you." He reached over to touch Woody's cheek. "Goodbye, Woody. I am honored to have met Henry's grandson."