Megan arrived around three that afternoon. Blair had just put Laurene down for a short nap, while Jim had long ago settled on the couch to watch football. A fire crackled in the fireplace and the room smelled of turkey and cranberries. She wrapped her arms around Blair, who had answered the door, hugging him tightly.
"How're you doing, Sandy?"
"I'm great, Megan. Lynne gave me a clean bill of health yesterday."
"That's certainly something to be thankful for." She smiled widely at Blair, giving him a knowing wink. She turned toward the kitchen, pretending not to notice the slight blush rising in the anthropologist's cheeks. "Something certainly smells yummy."
"Megan, this is our neighbor from across the hall, Flo McGinty. Flo, this is Megan Connor, an Inspector from Australia here on an officer exchange program," he introduced the two.
"Oh, it's very nice to meet a friend of James and Blair." Flo wiped her hands on her apron and came over to wrap Megan in a hug.
"Anything I can do to help?" Megan asked, looking around the well-organized kitchen.
"Not a thing, dear," Mrs. McGinty assured her. "Just make yourself comfortable."
"Would you like a beer?" Blair asked, opening the refrigerator.
"That sounds wonderful," Megan answered. "Thanks."
"How 'bout you, Jim?" Blair called over the noise of the television.
"Yeah, thanks."
Blair pulled two bottles of beer and one of old-fashioned ginger ale from the fridge, handing one beer to Megan and carrying the other two bottles over to the couch.
"Who's playing?" Megan asked, settling herself on the loveseat.
"Washington State and Michigan. Damn," Jim swore, as Washington State missed their first down by two yards.
Opening his ginger ale and taking a sip, Blair snuggled down next to Jim, burrowing in under his arm and laying his head on Jim's shoulder. Jim kissed the top of the curly head, momentarily distracted from the action on the TV.
The time passed companionably, until nearly four o'clock. When Megan heard Mrs. McGinty begin to set the table, she got up to help.
"How many places are we setting?" she asked.
"Six," Flo answered, setting down a stack of plates, then placing them, one on each end and two on each side. "It's going to be a little friendly, but we'll manage," she said, referring to the lack of elbow room between the place settings.
Megan put out the napkins and silverware, then began filling the glasses with water. "Anything else I can do to help?" she asked, coming into the kitchen when she had finished.
"Could you put the marshmallows on the sweet potatoes, dear?" the old woman asked, handing Megan a bag.
"Sure thing."
The two women worked in tandem, putting the finishing touches on the meal.
"When will Simon and Daryl be here?" Megan asked as she dished Mrs. McGinty's homemade cranberry sauce into a serving bowl.
"Any minute now," Jim answered. "I told them four o'clock." Just then, the phone rang. "Yeah?" Jim answered. "Okay, Simon, thanks." He hung up the phone and looked up. "Simon said to go ahead and start without them. The shelter has a record number of homeless this year, and the lines are endless. He says he and Daryl are going to stay a while longer to help."
"Oh, that's a shame," Mrs. McGinty sighed. "If they run short on food, I'm sure we could donate some of this." She waved her hands over the table and counter tops, overflowing with the turkey and fixings she had spent the day slaving over.
"They'll be here as soon as they can get away."
"Well, we might as well get started, then," Mrs. McGinty said. She settled herself at the table and the others followed suit. "It was always a tradition in my family to go around the table and say what we're thankful for, before we start eating. Blair, you've had an especially full year. Why don't you start?"
"Well, I'm certainly thankful just to be seeing this Thanksgiving." He turned to smile at Jim, who had squeezed his hand. "Of course I'm thankful that we have a healthy little daughter, and I'm really thankful for Jim's patience and support through everything I've put him through this year."
"I'm just thankful to have you," Jim responded, leaning over to place a kiss on Blair's cheek. "Our daughter is a wonderful bonus, and I love her very much. I'm just sorry you had to go through so much hell to bring her into the world."
"I'd do it all over again, Jim, for you . . . for her."
"Once was more than sufficient for me," Jim told him.
"Well, I'm thankful to have good friends, and to have been invited here to dinner," Megan added her two cents.
"And I'm thankful to finally have a family I can fuss over again," Flo finished. "Let's eat. James, would you please carve the turkey?"
Jim stood up, taking the meat fork and carving knife, and began slicing off generous chunks of the roasted bird. Conversation was sparse as everyone concentrated on enjoying the feast set before them. They were nearly finished when there was a knock on the door. Jim got up to answer.
"Are we too late?" Simon's voice boomed through the loft.
"Heck, no, Simon. We've got enough here to feed a small army." Jim laughed.
"Well, I brought one with me," Simon responded, pushing Daryl through the door.
"Aw, Dad. . . ." the teenager protested. "Hey, Jim. Hi, Blair . . . Megan."
"Hi, Daryl," Megan answered. "Come on over and sit down. There's plenty of food left."
"Simon, Daryl, I'd like you to meet our neighbor, Flo McGinty. She's the lady who was kind enough to watch Laurene when Megan couldn't, so I could go visit Blair in the hospital. She's also responsible for all this food." He waved a hand over the table, still groaning under the weight of the remaining comestibles.
"Cool." Daryl pulled up a chair and started filling his plate. "Hey, Dad, sit down. This looks great!"
"Have a busy day at the shelter?" Blair pulled up a chair beside the teenager.
"Yeah. You wouldn't believe how many people there were. We went through seven turkeys in the five hours we were there!" Daryl dug into his own meal with enthusiasm. "There was this one guy there. . . ."
"Don't talk with your mouth full," his father interrupted, proceeding to fill his own as soon as he finished admonishing his son.
Daryl swallowed and washed the food down with a sip of water. "There was this one guy there who brought in his kids. He had five of 'em. Man, I can't imagine living on the street. And this time of year, too."
"It makes you realize just how much you really have to be thankful for, doesn't it?" Blair smiled at him.
"Yeah. Living like that would really suck," Daryl commented, continuing to shovel in his meal. When he was finally finished, he sat back and sighed. "That was really great."
"Thank you, young man." Flo walked past and patted Daryl on the shoulder.
"Name's Daryl."
"Yes, dear, I know." Flo continued to patter around the table, picking up dirty plates and serving dishes.
"Don't sweat it," Blair leaned over to whisper to Daryl. "She calls me 'young man', too."
"Why don't you all gather in the living room and relax. I'll clean up, and we can have dessert after dinner's settled a bit."
"Let me help." Megan popped up and began hauling leftovers to the kitchen island.
Jim braved the kitchen to pull the storage containers out of the cupboard and begin to fill them.
"Shoo!" Flo waved her apron at the male invader to her territory. "Off with you, James Ellison. Take care of your family."
Jim turned to see Blair settled in the corner of the couch, shirt open, nursing Laurene. Daryl had come to perch nearby, but Simon sat as far away as possible, still vaguely embarrassed.
"I think that's so cool," Daryl enthused. "You really make enough milk to feed her? Your breasts aren't all that big."
"Breast size has nothing to do with how much milk a mother, or father, can produce," Blair told him. "It has more to do with how much stimulation the breast gets. Laurene is an enthusiastic feeder, so other than losing sleep, I don't have any trouble keeping up with her."
"How about when you were in the hospital?"
"Daryl, stop pestering Blair," Simon warned.
"It's okay, Simon. I don't mind." He turned back to his audience. "Well, right after the surgery I was so engorged with milk that my breasts ached something awful. The doctor got me a breast pump, and we expressed the milk regularly after that. Once I was out of ICU, and off the drugs that could contaminate the milk, Jim would take it home to feed Laurene."
"Cool."
Jim had come to sit on the arm of the couch, hovering over Blair and their daughter. He draped a protective arm around the nursing man and looked over at his captain. "You okay, Simon?"
"It's still just a little unsettling, is all."
"Did Joan nurse Daryl when he was a baby?"
"Ewww!" Daryl wrinkled up his nose at the very thought.
"As a matter of fact, yeah," Simon said, a smile of warm remembrance spreading across his face. "It was really beautiful. She was really beautiful, holding that tiny bundle to her breast."
"I feel the same way about Blair," Jim said, his voice soft.
Simon turned to the couple, looking at them with new eyes. "Yeah, I can see that you do." He watched Blair nurse for a few minutes, the smile continuing to spread across his features. "You're a lucky man, Jim Ellison."
"You tell him, Simon," Blair quipped. "He doesn't listen to me." His last comment earned him a playful thwap to the back of his head, making his dark curls bounce wildly.
"Anybody ready for dessert?" Megan called from the dining area. "Flo's got pumpkin and mincemeat, your choice."
"Does she have the hot butter sauce for the mincemeat?" Blair asked.
"Of course, dear," Flo's voice rang out from the kitchen.
"I guess I could eat a small piece," he decided. "Um, Jim?"
"Your wish is my command." Jim rose from his perch and bowed before the father and child before heading into the kitchen for the pie and a glass of milk. Coming back to his seat on the arm of the couch, he cut off a small bite with the fork and fed it to his waiting partner.
"Mmmm. . . . That is delicious, Flo. Thank you." Blair savored the bite a few moments longer, then opened his mouth for more. Jim continued the feeding while Blair's hands were occupied with their daughter.
"This, Simon, is my life," Jim said with a long-suffering sigh.
Simon's guffaw rang through the room. "Enjoy it now, Jim; it doesn't last forever."
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