Failings of the Fathers: 37 (mild adult)

Calvin and Malcolm sat in the cafeteria, again, eating another meal, routinely.  Malcolm wasn't saying much, which suited Calvin just fine.  In their recent talks, since the mysterious "something" had majorly angered Calvin, and Miguel had been put in the psych ward, nothing positive had come of their chats.  Both ate in silence.  The cafeteria was particularly full.  It was dinner hour, a very popular time.  A great deal of visitors and patients alike chose that meal, for some reason, most often.

Calvin finally broke the silence.  "You aren't talking today."

"Why bother?  We usually have some kind of argument or something.  Or else you just act gutted."

"Eh, that was then, this is now."

He was surprised by the comment.  "Since when?"

"Since now.  Things are looking up, Mister."

"Really."

"Yep."

"How so?"

"For me to know and you to butt out."

Malcolm rolled his eyes, "Same old thing, same old man."

Calvin actually smiled.  It was a weak and somehow dead one, but it happened.

Just then, Malcolm looked up to see Miguel standing by their table.  "Is there room for me, old padres?"

Malcolm smiled broadly, and said, "Of course.  When did you get out of psych?"

"Oh, great," Calvin said under his breath.

"Good to see you too, Old Man," Miguel said.  Then he turned to Malcolm, "Por la gracia de dios."

"Good.  I am glad to have you back.  This one," he motioned toward Calvin with his spoon, "was about to drive me crazy.  Bringing me into the doldrums every day."

Miguel placed his tray down, and said, "I'm glad to be back."

"You have a year anniversary in here, don't you?  Coming up soon?"  Malcolm asked the younger man.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, that's nothing compared to the time we've been here.  I've been here like, what, two years now?"  Malcolm thought aloud.

Calvin shrugged.

"You're a fine one to talk.  Or not to.  You've been here the longest, on and off, for a long time.  Right?" Malcolm said.

"Yep."  Calvin agreed.  "But, I'm cured."

"You keep saying that.  So, when do you leave, if you're cured?"

"Soon enough."  Calvin deflected.

"He never says anything," Malcolm said.

"Things don't change," Miguel said, smiling and digging in to his breakfast.  "Calvin must have a woman stashed away somewhere, else, some money.  Maybe back in the states?"

Calvin didn't respond.  Malcolm said, "It's not that.  It's a revenge plot of some kind."

"Revenge plot.  Hmm."  Miguel said.

"You can chew with your mouth closed," Calvin criticized.

"Manners?  You're talking to me about that?  You're the Grinch that Stole Everything, Padre."  Miguel said.

Malcolm laughed aloud.  Calvin just sat, staring at them both.  He said, "Are you both done?"

Malcolm said, "Normally, you would have gotten up and left by now.  You know we're just teasing."

"I have nothing to get angry about, not anymore," Calvin said.  "You can make your lame jokes.  I'll be out of here soon."

Miguel got serious, almost wistful.  "Yeah?  That's great, Man, if you can do it, then go.  I want to be out of here.  I want to go home.  Miss the U.S. of A."  He took another bite, "Just grateful that my doctor got through to me again."

"You," Calvin said, putting his napkin down, "are another story."  He made circles with his index finger around his temple.

Malcolm said, "And a revenge plot is not crazy?"

"No.  Not when it's a long time coming."  Calvin said.

"So what is this plot, Old Man?  Anything in it for us?  You know, we've had our days here together, our little endeavors, and then some."  Miguel asked.

"That's for me to know," he said, finishing his iced tea.

Miguel shot a glance to Malcolm, and the Englishman said, "Hope it's not dangerous."

Calvin paused quite a long time, as if in thought, and said, "For who?" and got up with his tray.


***

"Well, he's asleep.  All of them are.  Mixie's foot is bandaged, I set up the tent, the boys are down there happy."  Todd said.

"You're a good dad," Blair said, kissing his cheek.

"I'm trying.  Heck, I'm not trying.  I'm just being with them, and doing . . . what I think is right."

"Well, it's working."

It was quiet, the baby was sleeping in the nursery, Blair's doing, and the fire was casting an amber glow over the two of them.  He said, "It's been so long, Blair."

"I know," she said.  "I've missed you, so much.  Come here."

"Careful, you're still recovering from being a baby maker."

"I'm fine.  The doctor checked us both out."

"I don't remember the doctor checking me?"

"Oh, come on.  You know what I meant.  Your daughter and I.  We're both perfectly healthy."

"Like, really, really healthy?"

She nodded.

He leaned toward her and touched her nose with his, before kissing her with open mouth and closed eyes.  She moved his hands to her breasts, but he cautiously just held them gently, and he sighed.  He moved closer to her, bending so that she would be lying supine on the bed.  He said, "Are you sure?  I don't want to hurt you."

"Positive.  I want you, so much."

That was all he had to hear.

***

"Pappy, it's barely the crack of dawn, and y'ar here."  Aiden said, pushing up on his elbows.

"I know, I just seem to be drawn here.  Must be the wonderful food."

"Ha!  Can't be that, Old Man!"  Aiden laughed.  His smile was still as contagious as ever.  "Y'ar not laughing with me, does that mean y'ar laughing at me?"

"No.  It means I'm not laughing, Son."

"What's the problem?  Something in the states, with Todd?"

"No.  Nothing like that.  Y'ar brotha has moved forward, with his family.  He's left his pains behind.   I dare say I want the same for ya."

"Ah, well, no worries there.  It will happen, and soon."

"I hope.  I wanted to talk to ya about something.  I knew if I got here early enough, I could catch ya alone."

"Surely.  What is it, Dad?"

"Y'ar friends, those two men, maybe three.  Are ya sure, Son, that they are on the up and up?"

"That's a strange question, Pappy.  Of course."

"I realize ya trust them, and that ya've spent a great deal of time with them, since ya came."

"Yes.  They're a kind of relief.  The way they interact reminds me of an old television show."

"Well, that I can relate to.  Such an odd trio.  But Son, have ya thought that maybe . . ."

"Yes.  All right, I've thought about it.  But I've since decided against it.  Too much wasted time on their parts, if so.  It's been a long while.  If they were meant to execute me, it had been done by now, it would."

"Tina is worried as well, and me."

"Nothing to worry for, Father."

"How do we know they're not out to take ya out?"

"Ya've been hanging around y'ar other son too much, Pappy.  Take me out?  For what purpose?"  He was laughing.

Timothy was not.  "How do ya know they aren't in the Men of 21's remnants, and out to finish the job?"

Malcolm, who had been standing outside the door a few moments, stepped in and said, "Because they took my life away, that's why."

***

It wasn't long before Todd had released inside her and held her close to him, feeling her clinging to him with both arms and legs.  She had softly called out to him when she'd come, and he had whispered in encouragement to her with his touches and kisses.  He said, "I love you."

"I love you."

"Thanks.  For everything."

"You're welcome.  Thanks for loving us."

"Easy."

"I should get the baby," she said.  "I just feel so tired all the time."

"Let me go.  You stay here."

He got up, and his body was highlighted in the firelight.  She gasped slightly looking at him, and some how, it never got old with her.  He was always beautiful, and she was always attracted to him.  And it was stronger than that, somehow, and she had still not been able to put her finger on it; it just was.

He came back a short while later with Jewel, in her basket, and she was awake and looking at him, and he smiled into her face, and said, "Mommy and Daddy have had their quality time.  It's your turn pretty soon."  He placed the basket by the bed and climbed back in. 

Blair was already sleeping.

***

"What?" Aiden said, looking at Malcolm who was standing in the doorway.  Neither Miguel nor Calvin was with him.

"I lost my wife to a terrorist group just three years back.  After researching, I found they may have been connected to The Men of 21 from Ireland.  Isn't that what you are referring to?"

"I am," Timothy said.  "They took my family, some thirty plus years back.  Eric, here, was presumed dead, at the age of six.  My wife was shot in front of both of us."

"I'm . . ." he stopped, clearing his throat.  "I'm very sorry.  I lost everything.  So you see, I can't imagine how you've pegged me for a terrorist."

"Terrorists are expert liars," Tina said from the doorway.  "Hello, Malcolm." She entered the room.  "Good morning, Timothy."  She leaned over and kissed Aiden, who caught her head in his hand to hold her there longer.

He looked up into her eyes as she finally pulled back.  "Good morning, Aiden."

"Tina.  Y'ar a sight for me tired eyes."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm better. But I believe ya and my pappy are wrong about my friend.  Malcolm is a good pal."

Malcolm was standing, sheepishly, in the place he had been since he walked in the room.  Timothy watched his facial expressions throughout the exchange with Tina and Aiden, seeking a small sign that he was right.  He got nothing but a wistful sort of longing.

"So why don't ya tell us what happened to ya, then?"  Timothy started.

"It's a very long story, and not enjoyable to tell.  I lost everything.  What more can a person say?"

Aiden's face was slightly pink with embarrassment at the overt probing of his father.  Mixed in was the clear face of pity.  "Ya can tell us, or ya don't have to."

"I realize.  Let's say that I am not really in the mood to confide with those who doubt me.  For all it's worth, what would I gain from fooling anyone into believing I am not who I really am?"

"We've been through a lot," Timothy began, "and we can't be too careful."

"I think it's ridiculous," Malcolm said, "to think this of a friend.  But, at the same time, I can relate to what you must have experienced because I have as well.  You don't know me, not well.  Not really.  So it stands to figure that you might suspect my motives.  Problem is, I'm lonely.  Without purpose.  Without a place to be or call my own."

Aiden said, "The story of my life."

"Maybe so, but mine has just gone that way recently.  Yours was that way for many years, and I feel for you."

"Well, I appreciate that.  Pappy, ya could be wrong, couldn't ya?"

For a moment, Timothy was not certain, but then, realizing the idea originally came from Tina, and that he had no proof whatsoever, he said, "I suppose I can."

Malcolm made no move to respond, or to leave.  He just continued to stand in the very spot he was.  

Tina said, "I hope you understand, we just want to protect him."

"I can see that," he said.

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