CHAPTER 9
Nathaniel woke slowly and reluctantly to a gray and cloudy morning and the warm weight of Hinx, who was sleeping in the small of his back. It had been one of his more difficult nights. His sleep had been restless and sporadic, plagued by half-buried memories and half-remembered nightmares.
Poor Logan, he thought wearily. He reached out instinctively for the older man even though he knew he was alone in the bed. There was a crackle of paper as his outstretched fingertips brushed the note lying on Logan's pillow and he drew it close to his face, blinking several times to bring it into focus.
"Thaniel. I'm going to the hardware store with my dad. We'll be back before lunchtime. Mom is downstairs doing her baking. Please go down and keep her company if you feel up to it. Love, Logan."
"Hell!" Nathaniel swore as he flopped over onto his back, almost squashing Hinx in the process. "Sorry, cat," he apologized as the indignant animal scrambled out of the way.
Hinx eyed him warily for a moment, then climbed onto his chest and started kneading a new nest, his needle-sharp claws pricking through Nathaniel's t-shirt and into skin with every stroke.
"I said I was sorry " Nathaniel protested absently, fondling the cat's ears as he continued his melancholy thoughts. He so didn't want to go downstairs before Logan got home. He was tired, his head ached and his eyes felt as if they were full of grit. The last thing he wanted to do right now was make stilted conversation with Logan's mother.
He closed his eyes and put his pillow over his head, tempted to go back to sleep and pretend he hadn't seen the note. As he did, however, a mental image arose of Logan patiently waking him time after time, holding him and reassuring him while he wrestled with his demons. Logan had probably been exhausted but he hadn't put a pillow over his head and pretended to be asleep. He hadn't begrudged the support Thaniel needed from him.
"All right!" he muttered to his over-active conscience. "I'm getting up already!" Plopping Hinx onto the bed next to him, he got up and rummaged through his drawers for clean underwear, jeans and a long-sleeved tee and then headed for a shower.
Twenty minutes under the hot spray revived him enough to look at the world more optimistically as he toweled off and dressed. He pulled on the soft, faded jeans and navy tee he had chosen, brushed his hair and teeth, and with a deep breath, padded out in stocking feet to face the day.
He sniffed appreciatively as he entered the living room. The aroma of pumpkin pie, fresh-baked bread and simmering stock mixed with the light, spicy scent of the autumn flowers they had spread about the room. A small fire crackled cheerfully in the fireplace and a Neil Diamond song was playing on the oldies radio station. Phyllis, wearing a brightly flowered apron, stood at the island counter humming along, her fingers working rhythmically on the dough she was kneading.
She paused to wipe her hands, pour a mug of coffee and slide it across the counter as he sat down on his customary stool. "Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?" she asked cheerfully. "Would you like some breakfast?"
"Morning," he replied as he added sugar to the mug. "Just coffee, thank you, ma'am. I usually wait and eat with Logan.
"Oh, that's right, he said that earlier. They should be back before too long. They left a couple hours ago. I hope the radio didn't bother you, I tried to keep it low."
"No, it was fine." He took a sip of the coffee, wondering what to talk about next. The dough she had returned to gave him a cue. "What are you making?"
"Bread. They're forecasting snow so I thought vegetable-beef soup and bread would be good for dinner and a nice contrast for the big meal tomorrow. I've already made rolls, two pumpkin pies, one pecan and the crust for a chocolate cream. I'll do an apple and a cranapple after I finish this bread. I hope that will be enough"
"It should be. That's a pie and a half per person," Nathaniel observed.
"The chocolate cream is for dessert tonight," Phyllis explained. "I've always made one for the night before. Otherwise Bob and the kids would raid the pumpkin pies and there wouldn't be enough left for Thanksgiving. And there's going to be one more tomorrow. I met that nice man across the hall this morning and he was going to be all alone so I had Logan invite him over for dinner."
"Joe? I thought he was going to his daughter's."
"He was but they need him to work tomorrow night and he decided it was too far to go for such a short time."
"Oh." There was a long awkward pause and Nathaniel gulped more coffee as he wondered where Logan was and tried to think of a new topic. "Uh-- Is there something I can do to help?"
Phyllis gave the dough a final pat, put it into a bowl and covered it with a clean cloth before answering. "You can peel apples for me if you'd like." She set the bowl to one side and placed a basket of bright red and green apples in front of him.
He peeled the apples and then tossed them with flour, sugar and cinnamon while she mixed the pie dough and rolled out the first crust.
"Logan used to beg for the scraps of dough when I was through," Phyllis remembered with a smile. "All of the kids did. They would roll them out and cut them into shapes, then sprinkle sugar and cinnamon on them and bake them."
"My mom did that when I was little," Nathaniel commented. Before his father had put a stop to it, claiming she was turning him into a sissy. "What about Kelly and Kim? What are they doing for Thanksgiving?"
Phyllis accepted the change of topic with ease. "Kimmy is going to her in-laws. They alternate holidays. This year they spend Thanksgiving with Doug's parents and Christmas with us. Next year they'll be with us for Thanksgiving. We thought Kelly would be home but she decided to go skiing with a group of friends. She promised to be home for Christmas, though, so if you and Logan come the whole family will be together. What about your family?" she continued without a pause. "Do they have a big family gathering at Thanksgiving?"
"Everyone goes to my grandparents' house - my father's parents." Nathaniel replied shortly.
"We alternated parents the way Kimberly is doing now, until it got to be too hard for Bob's parents. Then they either came to our house or went to one of his siblings. When his father passed on his mother went to live with Bob's sister in Arizona so we don't see her very often anymore. We've talked about renting an RV and spending the winter there sometime but Bob can't bear to be away from the store that long."
She continued to ramble gently about the family, sharing stories about Logan's childhood, asking an occasional question but never prying, as they finished the pies and began peeling and chopping vegetables for the soup. Nathaniel slowly relaxed and let the conversation wash over him, contributing a comment or story now and then, never realizing how much practice Phyllis had reading between the lines or how much he revealed with his simple answers.
"We're home," Logan called as he opened the door to the loft. He juggled the numerous bags he carried, trying not to drop or spill anything as he moved aside to let his father follow him in. "Take some of these bags, will you, Thaniel?"
"Did you buy out the store?" Nathaniel asked as he took two bags with the hardware store logo on them, leaving Logan holding two McDonalds bags and a drink carrier.
"No, we just got lightbulbs, washers, a new showerhead, weather stripping, a bird feeder and lunch," Logan replied. He searched Thaniel's face as he spoke, adding softly, "How are you doing this morning?"
"I'm good."
"You sure?"
"Yes, boss. You can stop clucking now," Thaniel replied with an affectionate laugh, then asked in a louder tone, "Why did you buy a bird feeder?"
"I didn't. Dad found out we don't have one so he bought it for us." Logan dropped the rest of his bags on the couch
"Every home needs a bird feeder," Bob averred defensively. "And Hinx will enjoy watching the birds this winter. We'll put it up right after lunch."
"Where?" Nathaniel asked blankly. They didn't have any place of their own outside and it would take an awfully long ladder or an awfully tall pole to hang it where they could see it from their windows. How would they refill it? And would the birds even find it that high up?
"It attaches to the windowsill," Bob explained, "and we got materials to make a shelf for it outside so you won't have to worry about drafts around the window. Where's your toolbox, Logan?"
"Let's eat first," Logan suggested, "before the food gets cold."
"You didn't have to bring lunch," Phyllis protested as he set the bags on the table and started parceling out the food. "I could have made sandwiches for everyone."
"Mom, you're already making dinner tonight and everything for tomorrow. You don't have to spend every minute you're here in the kitchen. You're on vacation, remember?"
"Leave her alone, son," Bob intervened. "She's enjoying herself."
"Kind of like your father with the showerhead and bird feeder," Phyllis pointed out demurely.
Logan caught Thaniel's eye with an exasperated 'what did I tell you?' look and Nathaniel almost inhaled his coke in his struggle not to laugh.
Immediately after lunch, they started assembling the feeder. Nathaniel attempted to help Phyllis with the cleanup but she shooed him away.
"I can manage, dear. Go have fun."
Unsure how to help, he perched on the arm of the couch and watched them laying out the pieces of cedar and clear acrylic and screwing them together. Had he and his father ever done something like this together, he wondered? He didn't think so and he knew they had never laughed and teased each other the way Logan and his father did.
If his father had told him his tool collection was pathetic it would have been with anger, not laughter, and he would never have dared to reply with a remark about size not being everything.
Once they finished assembling the feeder, they turned their attention to the shelf with its brackets that hooked over the inside window sill and fastened to the wall outside. This necessitated having the window open for a lengthy period of time and a cold draft whistled through the loft as they worked.
Phyllis, well-used to these projects, philosophically covered herself with an afghan before getting out her needlework and turning on the tv. Nathaniel put on his leather jacket and the other two didn't seem to notice the cold.
Nathaniel didn't even attempt to join in the construction project. While he knew Logan would welcome his involvement, the two men worked together like a well-oiled machine, taking turns leaning out the window, hanging almost upside as they drilled holes and screwed the brackets to the wall, exchanging tools and jokes with good-natured ease.
Rather than interrupt that flow, he limited his contribution to running downstairs to retrieve the parts and tools they knocked off the window ledge and nobly refraining from grabbing Logan's belt loops every time he leaned out too far.
It was getting dark and the first snow was falling as they filled the bird feeder and applied weather stripping around the window. The last step was to put a chair near the window for Hinx, and Nathaniel found him and carried him in while Logan put away the tools. Hinx wasn't interested in the birdless feeder but Thaniel stood by the window with him anyway, rubbing his cheek against the soft fur as he stared out at the fat flakes gently floating through the air.
After a while Hinx struggled to get down and Nathaniel turned to face the room, uncertain what to do next. Phyllis was ensconced on the couch, knitting and watching an old movie on tv. Bob was stretched out in the recliner, ostensibly watching the same movie although Nathaniel doubted he was seeing much since his eyes were closed. Should he sit down and watch the movie? Try to make conversation again? Was it ok to go get his book or would that be rude? As he hesitated, Logan came back into the room.
"Thaniel, would you come here for a minute?" he asked.
"Yes, boss." Nathaniel followed him into the workroom, anxiously wondering how he had screwed up this time. Should he have talked more? Less? Helped more with the bird feeder, cleaned up afterwards? By the time he entered the room and Logan closed the door, he had worked himself into a full-blown panic attack.
"I'm sorry, Logan," he began, his distress clear in his tone, the words tumbling over themselves in his haste to get them out. "I'm doing my best, I swear I am, just tell me what I'm doing wrong and I'll fix it, you just have to tell me and I'll do better, I promise I'll do better if you just tell me what you want to me to do--"
"Thaniel, sit!" Logan's voice cut across his panicked babble.
"Yes, sir." Cutting himself off mid-word, he obediently dropped into the chair behind him, automatically sitting on his hands and closing his eyes.
Logan moved behind him, strong hands gently kneading the hunched shoulders. "Calm down, Thaniel. I'm not angry, I just wanted to have a few minutes alone with you."
"You aren't?" Nathaniel opened his eyes and tipped his head back to stare up at the older man. "You did?"
"Yes. Thank you for keeping my mom company this morning. Did she talk your ear off?"
"A little," Nathaniel confessed with a tentative smile, leaning into the hands that were now massaging the sensitive area between shoulders and neck. "But I didn't mind. She was telling me stories about you as a child."
"Uh oh," Logan said with a mock frown. "Whatever she said, don't believe it."
"She said you were an adorable baby," Nathaniel teased.
"Like I said..." Logan laughed before continuing more seriously, "It's all right if you want to be by yourself for a while. I'm going to take my book into the living room and read but if you want to go upstairs and read or play online or listen to your music in here, nobody will mind."
"I'd like to go upstairs and read," Nathaniel admitted, "unless you think that would be too rude?"
"No, it will be fine," Logan repeated.
Nathaniel took his book upstairs and lay on the bed but it wasn't long before the print blurred and the novel slipped from his hand. It was dark when he awoke, Hinx' weight heavy across his feet and Logan gently shaking his shoulder.
"Dinner's ready, Thaniel. You want to come eat?"
"All right." He groggily struggled to untangle himself from the blanket and sit up. "Just give me a minute to wake up, ok?"
"Sure. Come down when you're ready."
He sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, then went downstairs to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face before rejoining the others. There he found Phyllis slicing bread, Logan ladling soup and Bob filling glasses.
"There you are," Bob greeted him as he entered the room. "Milk or water?"
"Uh- milk, I guess," he replied, trying not to stare at the older man doing 'women's work'.
He was even more surprised when they finished eating and Bob joined in clearing the table and loading the dishwasher.
"He hasn't always been this helpful," Logan murmured as he stacked the empty bowls and handed them to Thaniel. "Mom has been working on him since the kids all left home."
"Why don't we all play Yahtzee?" Phyllis suggested after the dishes were done.
"Mom--"
"Humor your mother, Logan," his father advised.
"I don't think I even own a Yahtzee game," Logan protested.
"That's all right, I brought mine," Phyllis replied brightly.
"Your mother likes to play dice games?" Nathaniel whispered as she went to get it from her suitcase.
"She's addicted to that dice game," Logan replied in laughing exasperation. "And she's unbeatable. She's going to spend the evening rolling Yahtzees and giving the rest of us advice."
"Two of her favorite pastimes," Bob observed as he picked up a newspaper and headed for the recliner.
"Oh, no, Dad." Logan caught his arm as he passed. "You're not getting out of this. If Thaniel and I have to endure this, so do you."
In spite of their apparent unwillingness, Nathaniel noticed that they both seemed to have almost as much fun with the game as Phyllis did and offered as much advice. The evening ended with Phyllis winning three games and Nathaniel, much to his surprise, winning the fourth.
"That's it," Logan said after adding up his last score and comparing it to Thaniel's. "I've been humiliated enough for the night."
"And I hear my bed calling." Bob stood up and stretched, then held out a hand to Phyllis. "Come on, Yahtzee Queen. You need your beauty rest if you're going to get up and stuff a turkey early in the morning."
"Good night, Mom. Night, Dad."
"Good night," Nathaniel echoed.
"I like your parents," Thaniel told Logan a few minutes later as they got ready for bed. "I had a good time tonight."
"Good. They like you, too," Logan replied as he admired Nathaniel removing his jeans and pulling on flannel sleep pants. "Are you coming to bed now?"
"No, I'm going to work on my history project for a while, if that's ok?"
"Of course, it's ok." Logan got into bed and picked up his book. "Don't stay up too late, though. Mom's going to have the tv on bright and early so I don't know how well you'll be able to sleep."
"Ok. Night, boss." He leaned over the bed for a good night hug and kiss.
"Night, Thaniel," Logan replied as he returned the embrace. "See you in the morning."
Nathaniel made good progress on his project and knocked out most of it before he decided to call it a night. As he switched off lights on his way upstairs, he noticed Hinx sitting on the chair by the window.
"There won't be any birds tonight, silly," he said, crossing the room to pick up the burly tomcat. He stared out the window at the thickly falling snow for a while, lost in thought, then shook his head irritably and went upstairs to bed.
He woke earlier than usual the next morning. Hinx was absent and he could hear muted band music and the murmur of voices downstairs so he got up, dressed and padded down to see what was going on.
The day was cloudy and snow still fell sporadically but the loft was warm and cheerful. A fire crackled brightly in the fireplace and the enticing aroma of turkey and stuffing filled the air. Logan and his father were sitting at the table sharing the newspapers and having a good-natured disagreement about government spending while Phyllis stood at the island listening to them as she peeled sweet potatoes and watched the Macy's parade on tv.
"No more politics," she ordered firmly as Nathaniel entered the room. "Morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well? Would you like some breakfast?"
"Morning. Yes, ma'am. No breakfast, thank you."
"Good morning, Nathaniel," Bob said as he got up to pour himself more coffee.
"Morning, Thaniel." Logan held out a hand and Thaniel joined him at the table. "Why don't you have a bagel or something? We aren't going to be eating dinner for a while."
"I thought eating later would give Joe a little more time to sleep," Phyllis explained as Bob set a cup of coffee in front of him and she followed with a glass of orange juice. "It won't take me a minute to fry more bacon and there's some batter left for pancakes."
"Mom!" Logan exclaimed. "You told me we were out of batter!"
"If I hadn't, there wouldn't be any left for Nathaniel," she replied reasonably. "And you had had enough."
"It's all right, I'll share mine with you," Thaniel offered consolingly.
"He doesn't need them," Phyllis declared. "He's going to get fat."
"Mom, don't you want to go play Yahtzee or something?"
The light banter and teasing continued until it was interrupted by a long phone call from Kelly, followed by one from Kimberly.
Nathaniel watched wistfully while they passed the phone from person to person and spoke in every possible combination of participants. He finished eating and read part of the newspaper and was washing the skillet and griddle when Phyllis finished gushing at her youngest grandchild, handed Logan the phone and joined him.
"I just love talking to him on the phone," she explained as she got out the bag of potatoes and a peeler. "He's so cute, even if I don't understand a word he says. Kim said they have about a foot of snow and the children have already been out to play in it and Doug and his father are watching football. I'm so glad Bob has never gotten that involved with sports. Doug just lives for them, football, basketball, baseball, hockey... As soon as one ends the next begins and Kimmy can't get a lick of sense out of him while there's a game on. She does get along well with her in-laws, though. That's so important. You should call her, honey."
"Huh? Call Kim?" Thaniel asked in obvious confusion.
"No, call your mother. I know you're estranged," she said softly, "but it's so important to a mother to hear from her children, especially on holidays. She probably misses you very much."
/Only if they're playing hockey in hell/, Thaniel thought cynically. With an effort, he bit back the caustic rejoinder and mumbled something noncommittal instead.
"Oh, look." Phyllis turned the subject easily, pointing toward the window with the bird feeder. "The birds have found it. And Hinx as found the birds."
Sure enough, when Thaniel cautiously approached the window there were a half dozen plump little chickadees pecking busily at the millet seed, feathers fluffed against the cold. Hinx watched them intently, occasionally reaching out to bat at them but since the back of the feeder was a one-way mirror they ignored him and kept stuffing themselves.
When he saw them watching him, the beefy gray tomcat yawned and casually hopped down and wandered off as if he had lost interest but Thaniel knew he would be back when he was no longer observed.
"Stupid cat," he muttered fondly. Who cared about talking to relatives or what his mother was doing or thinking? He had all the family he needed right here.
There was a knock on the door and since Logan was still on the phone Nathaniel went to answer it. "Hi, Joe. Come in."
"I'm hope I'm not too early," the older man said nervously. He had probably gotten a few hours of sleep but Nathaniel thought he still looked tired. Nevertheless, he was neatly dressed and freshly shaved, his hair was slicked back and Nathaniel could smell the musky cologne he favored. He was also carrying an autumn bouquet wrapped in green paper. "For Mrs. Bradley," he explained.
"Call me Phyllis, please." Nathaniel stepped back to allow Joe to enter the loft as the woman hurried forward, hands outstretched. "Oh, aren't they lovely? I'll just put them in water. Come in and sit down. Would you like some coffee or tea?"
Soon, coffee in hand, Joe was admiring the bird feeder and asking Bob and Logan questions about its installation.
"It wasn't any trouble to put up and Hinx likes it. It's just beneath his dignity to let us know it," Logan said with a chuckle.
"That's why I'm a dog man," Joe laughed. "Attila doesn't mind me knowing he likes me or anything else."
"Have you seen his dog, Dad? He's huge."
"And scared to death of Hinx," Joe added. "He's going to need therapy one day. He might like to watch the birds while I'm sleeping during the day. I should look into getting one of these."
Conversation moved from there to general home improvements and then to security systems and by the time Phyllis called everyone to the table Joe was clearly more relaxed.
"This looks great," he praised as he took his place at the table. An autumn gold tablecloth covered the table, complementing the natural-colored stoneware dishes and the russet candles and napkins. The turkey with its crispy, deep brown-golden skin proudly adorned the platter at Bob's place, waiting to be carved as soon as grace had been said.
"It's too bad you can't be with your daughter this year," Phyllis said as they began passing dishes and filling their plates. "I know how hard it is to be away from family during the holidays."
"It is hard," Joe admitted, "and I'll miss seeing my grandson but I'll go up there on my next days off. I think it's more important for the young men at work to be with their families. I had my turn when Eleanor was small."
"How old is your grandson?" Logan asked.
"He's seven this year," he said then added laughing, "going on 27. I swear, he's so smart. Some of the things he comes up with --. Sorry, I could brag all day."
"We understand that," Phyllis agreed. "We have a four-year-old granddaughter and our grandson is two. They're precious."
"Little ones really make the holidays special, don't they?" Bob asked.
"They really do. Being a grandparent is the greatest thing. I don't know what the difference is, but it's a lot more fun as a grandparent than a parent," Joe observed as he added sweet potatoes to his plate.
"Isn't that the truth?" Phyllis laughed. "I think it's because we get all the fun stuff and the parents have to deal with the behavior, bad moods and diapers."
"You know what amazes me?" Logan asked, buttering one of his mom's homemade rolls. "How things the grandchildren do are 'cute' that would have left me in deep trouble had I done the same things."
"It's different as a grandparent, dear," Phyllis explained.
"Apparently," Logan said good-naturedly. "I wonder sometimes who these people are and what they did with my parents."
"My daughter says the same thing," Joe said. "I remind her of how much work parenting is. I'm older now, and I don't have the energy."
"We've earned the luxury of relaxing around the kids," Bob said. "We have three and they kept us hopping. I remember one time when Logan was te--"
"Dad," Logan said and Nathaniel laughed as Bob recounted a memorable story from Logan's childhood.
"Nathaniel, would you like more turkey?" Phyllis asked as soon as his plate was cleared.
"No, ma'am," he replied pushing his plate away. "I'm stuffed."
"So am I," Logan said before his mother could offer him more food. "I'm going to have to wait on dessert."
"I guess I made too much. We hardly made a dent in it," Phyllis said as she looked around the table.
"We can have leftovers for dinner," Bob said. "Not that I'll be hungry again today. I feel as stuffed as the turkey was."
"Well, if everyone is finished, I'm going to clear the table and put on some coffee," Phyllis said. Joe stood up to help and she continued, "No, Joe, you sit here with the rest of the men and talk. I'll get this."
"You've already fed me, Phyllis. The least I can do is help clear the table."
"I'm just going to cover everything and put in the refrigerator for later. The rest won't take a minute to put in the dishwasher. I cleaned as I cooked."
Nathaniel whispered to Logan, "So that's where you get it from."
"It's genetic," Logan whispered back.
"Like being a mother hen?" Nathaniel asked under his breath and laughed at the raised eyebrow he got in return.
"It will only take me a few minutes," Phyllis continued, oblivious to the byplay.
As Joe sat back down, he saw the Yahtzee box sitting on the counter where they had left it the night before. "Do you all play Yahtzee?" he asked.
"Mom does," Logan replied. "The rest of us try but she leaves the rest of us in the dust."
"Do you play?" Phyllis asked as she carried plates to the sink.
"I used to. My wife and I both enjoyed it and we played almost every night. Now I just play one hand against the other. I haven't found anyone else who likes to play the way we did."
Phyllis' eyes gleamed with the prospect of playing with a fellow fanatic. "Why don't we play a game or two before we have dessert? If you don't have to leave right away."
"No, I have plenty of time."
"Mom," Logan groaned.
"Two of them? We don't stand a chance," Bob complained.
"Logan, honey, why don't you get the game set up while I put these in the dishwasher?" Phyllis directed as she cleared the table in record time.
Thaniel hid a smile at Logan's pained expression.
"Yes, ma'am," Logan said.
Two games later, Phyllis tallied her total and announced, "398. We're tied, Joe."
"The Queen's throne is being threatened," Bob said behind his hand to Logan.
"I heard that, Bob."
"Rematch," Joe said.
"You're on," Phyllis said. "Give me a second to serve up the pie. Logan?"
Logan got up to follow his mother and Nathaniel started to rise. "You don't have to help if you don't want to."
"I'll get the drinks." Nathaniel took orders from the table for drinks and choice of pie before following Logan and Phyllis to the kitchen.
Two games later, Joe and Phyllis were still tied, having won two games each. "Tie-breaker?" Phyllis offered.
"I'm afraid I can't," Joe announced with a regretful sigh. "As much fun as I'm having, I'm need to be going. I had a good time, thank you for inviting me," he said as he rose. "An excellent meal and excellent company as well."
As the others said goodbye, Phyllis slipped into the kitchen area and came back with a covered plate and a small plastic bag. "I made a plate for you to take with you and a bag of turkey for that adorable Shepherd."
Behind her back Logan and Nathaniel rolled their eyes at her description of the professionally trained attack dog but Joe was touched.
"Thank you, ma'am," he replied. "I appreciate it and I know Attila will, too."
After Joe left, Bob said with a rub of his belly, "I think I'm ready for elastic-waisted pants."
"Sweats sound good. Mom, you outdid yourself again," Logan said.
Bob kissed her on the cheek."Yes, you did. I'm going to stretch out for a nap."
"I'll join you shortly," she replied.
Phyllis went back to the kitchen to put some finishing touches on the cleanup and Bob went to the guest room, leaving Logan and Thaniel to themselves. Logan looped his arms around Thaniel's waist, locking his fingers together at the small of the other man's back.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Thaniel."
"Happy Thanksgiving to you, too," Thaniel answered. "I really enjoyed it."
"So did I," Logan agreed. "Would you like to stretch out on the bed and read or something?"
"Not while your parents here," Nathaniel reminded him with a grin, not in the least deceived by the 'or something'. "I think I'll work on my history for a while."
"Don't work too hard. It's a holiday."
"I know but I really want to get this out of the way," Thaniel hesitated indecisively.
The next two days passed quickly and before Nathaniel knew it they were back at the airport, dropping Bob and Phyllis off for their flight home, saying their goodbyes in front of the security checkpoint. This time Nathaniel didn't shy away when he was enveloped in an enthusiastic hug.
"It was so good to meet you," Phyllis told him warmly. "You make sure you and Logan come for Christmas, ok? I know the girls want to meet you, too."
"All right," Nathaniel agreed as he returned the embrace. "I'm looking forward to it."
"Take care of Logan. Good luck with your studies. And call her, honey," she whispered in his ear, then quickly released him and turned to Logan before he could reply. "Goodbye, sweetie," she told him. "You bring Nathaniel home for Christmas, all right?"
"Yes, Mom," he replied as she hugged him in turn. "Have a good flight and we'll see you at Christmas.
Next to him, Bob was cordially repeating the Christmas invitation as he said goodbye to Nathaniel with a warm handshake and a brief pat on the shoulder.
"Bye, Dad," Logan said."Have a safe flight. Call us when you get home."
"I will. We'll see you at Christmas." He gave Logan a quick hug and then moved into the line waiting to have their bags scanned, Phyllis following behind him
After another chorus of goodbyes Logan and Nathaniel made their way back to the car. The drive home was quiet, both men engrossed in his own thougts.
"It seems quiet," Nathaniel commented as they entered the loft.
"Yes, it does," Logan agreed. "Do you mind if I work for a while, Thaniel? I had an idea for chapter 15 at the airport and I'd like to get it down while it's fresh."
"No, go ahead," Nathaniel replied. "I have some reading to do."
Logan went into the workroom as soon as he had hung up his coat but Nathaniel didn't get his book right away. He hung his jacket in the closet, then wandered around the living room, taking a coffee mug to the kitchen, plumping a cushion, straightening a rug.
It had been a long week. He was glad he had met Logan's parents, glad that they had gotten along so well, but it had been something of a strain, too. He was glad to have the loft to themselves again.
It had been a strain on another level as well. He thought again about what Phyllis had said. Was she right about his mother? Did she miss him? Worry about him, wonder what had become of him?
He wanted to deny it. If she cared about him why had she never defended him? Stood up for him or protected him? But at the same time he couldn't shake the image of her waiting by the phone, yearning to hear from him, hoping every call would be the one telling her he was safe and well.
At last, almost against his will, he flipped open his cell phone and dialed the number he thought he had blocked from his memory forever. As he listened to it ring, he wondered what he'd say when she answered. Would he even recognize her voice? Would she recognize his?
"Hello?"
He stood paralyzed, unable to speak.
"Hello, who is this?" It was his father's voice, blustery and belligerent, the way it often was when he had been drinking. "What is this, some kind of joke? Who is this?"
Nathaniel quietly flipped the phone closed and dropped it on the couch.
tbc