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Father Knows Best
by Sam-Tony
He takes a sip of what turns out to be very good wine - Colby has surprisingly good taste - and sits back as the rest clear the table and do just enough to save the leftovers and set the first load of dishes to whirring in the washer.
Ah, the prerogative that comes with age.
His smile is a little smug as he enjoys the semi-darkness of the family room lit only with a few candles scattered around in strategic groups and the lights wrapped around the large Christmas tree sitting in front of the large bay window, complete with gifts wrapped underneath.
It’s new, this tree, and not at all what he had grown up with. He takes a moment to look at it; at the simple glass ornaments in their bold colors that reflect and diffuse the tiny LED lights, scattering even more colors over and within the dark green bows. Takes in the sharp scent of pine as it mingles with the warm salt and butter scent of the popcorn Don and Charlie spent hours stringing while watching Monday night football games and holiday movies.
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes on the comforting darkness with its festive lights and candles burning against the night outside, and listens to the sound of laughter and good natured ribbing over the dessert coming from the kitchen. Larry and Amita and David. Colby and Ian. Friends. Family. Friends that, through the years, gun battles and academic trials, have become family. More laughter, familiar laughter that hadn’t always been. Don and Charlie. His boys.
They think he doesn’t know. They’re his boys - of course he knows. He’s watched them and watched over them their whole lives. Of course he noticed when they grew apart, and then when they grew stronger, closer; too close for brothers. He doesn’t like it, can’t agree with it, but they seem so much happier together. Charlie doesn’t stay up all hours anymore, forgetting to eat, and Don doesn’t take quite so many chances as he used to or get weighted down in paperwork quite as often and, well, forget to eat. There are no more questionable girlfriends, no more missed, failed or botched connections.
They’ve never been normal, his boys. But they’re happy together, *that’s* what he knows. Because they finally have each other.
His eyes open as the door into the kitchen swings wide with a hollow thump, sending everyone out spilling out; Charlie in the lead loaded down with the tray of pies, cherry and sweet potato, Don following after, the necks of beer bottles gripped in his fingers, dark eyes disappearing behind his cheeks and teeth flashing from the wide smile his oldest son wears.
They’re his boys, and they’re happy - so of course he knows.
He takes in the two men following directly behind, leaving David, Larry and Amita to bring up the end, everyone laughing, everyone glowing with the joy this time of the year was supposed to bring.
Of course he knew about Don and Charlie, though he had to admit, the addition of Colby and Ian had been a surprise.
End