Work Text:
Touchy-Feelie
By Margaret Newman aka mereridkat
Date: 11/21/07
Jim stood up at the head of the table with the glass of wine in his right hand. He winked at Blair while he waited for everyone to calm down. Blair thought, "uh oh, he's up to something."
"Okay, people, okay. Let's get this moment over with so we can eat." Jim said gruffly, doing a bit of a growl in his voice. There were chuckles around the table, but the noise subsided.
"How many people got that touchy-feelie email from Blair this week? 'I'm thankful for the sun in my face, and the wind in my hair...'" He could do a great mocking falsetto voice when he was being sarcastic.
More laughter, Blair smiled and shook his head. He knew he was going to get crap for it, so he wasn't surprised, and he was a guy after all, it didn't bother him. Those that wanted to get the sentiment would. His mother patted his hand, and smiled at him.
"Well, I want to say this." And Blair knew something good was coming. All the macho guys were looking like they were about to get vindicated, and the women looked like, "great, more crap, how does Blair survive him?"
"I am grateful every morning I wake up freezing cold." He sounded pissy, and then he lowered his glass of wine. "Because it means that my partner is life has slept with me all night long, and stolen the covers once again."
Some laughter, Jim's dad frowned a little, but Bill kept his mouth shut. Blair was a little surprised by Jim being so open in front of him.
"I am glad every morning I take a shower, and only have one or two minutes of hot water." Jim paused. "One, because I water delivered to my loft that is clean enough to take a shower in and doesn't smell. And two, because it means Blair's been there ahead of me."
The women were smiling now.
"I am thankful for the long strands of hair that clog my brush, and my sink. I am thankful for the hot cup of coffee waiting for me when I come out of the shower. Blair doesn't drink coffee but he makes me a pot of coffee every morning. Even when he's pissed at me." Jim swirled the wine around his glass before continuing. "I think of people like Dave Roberts, and I am thankful that Blair has put up with my moods, the challenges of our life together. I am thankful I have a home to come to at the end of the day."
Blair blinked, surprised that Jim had remembered about the Seattle English professor whose partner had shot him and then shot himself.
"I am thankful that he has a mother that cooks the best tongue stew in all of Washington State. She won't share the recipe with me, but she cooks me up a batch whenever I ask." Blair looked at his mom, and smiled. She was smiling too.
"I am thankful for the support of my friends and family. I am thankful I have a boss that yells at me when he thinks I've screwed up." Jim arched an eyebrow at Simon. Simon grumbled, but then he grinned and shook his head.
"You're going to drive me into early retirement, Ellison. You and Hairboy." Simon grumbled good naturedly.
Soft laughter, some chuckles.
"I am grateful that my father and I have started talking again, started being friends instead of enemies. I am grateful that my brother has come home from Iraq, a little worse for the wear, but he's home."
"Amen." Stephen raised his glass of wine. "Glad to be home."
"Amen." Echoed around the table.
"I'm grateful for a lot of things. I just want you all to know. You are welcome at our table any time." Jim raised his glass again. "To friends and family, to husbands and wives, and partners, lovers, children, dogs..."
"Cold stuffing." Meghan sniffed.
"To cold stuffing!" Rafe called out, and everyone echoed the sentiment. "To cold stuffing!"
Jim took the first drink from his glass, and everyone followed suit. He looked at Blair, smiling, and winked again. Blair smiled back, thinking of how he could say thank you later, and drank the wine in his glass. It was a good Thanksgiving, and he was very thankful.
"Dogs?" Blair perked up, nearly spilling his wine.
"Children?" His mother blinked.
END
mereridkat(at)aol.com
Author's websites: http://morudai.livejournal.com