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It was a crisp and cool Thanksgiving day. The sun decided to make an appearance and the chilling wind from the last couple days was absent.
Dave was comfortable in old jeans and Cubs jacket. He perched on the railing of the back deck at Fran’s house. He had a front row view of Derek and Darren playing one-on-one basketball in her driveway. He smirked at the absolutely baffled look on Derek’s face. “Don’t tell me you raised a sore loser, Fran.”
Fran wore a black Chicago Blackhawks hoodie. She laughed from her perch beside him. “He’s just not used to Darren posing a challenge. From the time Darren learned to dribble, they’ve played every year on Thanksgiving when Derek’s not on a case. Derek’s always made it up to him the next time he’s home. The standing prize is the first and biggest piece of my famous chocolate cake.”
Dave chuckled as Derek stopped just short of Darren for a jump shot. The shot was perfect, all net. He recognized that shit eating grin on Derek’s face. “What do ya think of that, kid?” Derek taunted good naturedly, tossing the ball to Darren.
“I know you got skills, old man,” Darren shot back. “But so do I.” He bounced the ball between Derek’s legs, darted past him, and drove to the basket for the lay up.
Dave rolled his eyes. “If Derek’s an old man, what does that make me?”
Fran sighed theatrically. “You don’t want to know. Darren thinks I’m older than dirt and you’re probably in my category.”
“Punk kid,” Dave muttered without any venom. “So, he’s never won.”
Derek landed another jump shot. He playfully nudged Darren. “Since, I’m going to win. Like always. I get the first piece of chocolate cake. Like always.”
Darren stuck his tongue out. “That’s mine this year.”
“Never even close,” Fran answered Dave. “But he’s growing fast. He’ll end up taller than Derek. His father was six foot five.”
Dave watched Darren fake to the right and speed around Derek to the left for an easy lay up. “Is his father in the picture at all?”
Fran arched an eyebrow. “Hasn’t Derek told you any of that story?”
“Just that Darren’s father was a piece of shit and he was sorry that he had to let him live,” Dave answered neutrally.
Fran bared her teeth. “Chris was a friend of Derek’s. They did everything together and it seemed like I had another son. That is until he slipped something into Desiree’s drink at a party. Derek pounded him to within an inch of his life. Then the family moved to Detroit. I don’t know what happened to him after that and I don’t give a damn.”
“Did he know that he got her pregnant?” Dave asked gently.
Fran hugged her arms across her chest. Her voice was tight. “No.”
“I’m sorry.”
Fran managed a small smile. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” She paused for a moment. “I remember Chris watching Desiree. Some of those looks made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, but I thought I knew the kid. It never occurred to me that he could do something like that.”
Dave scooted closer so their shoulders were touching. “You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about.”
Fran nodded and the smile grew. “I’m grateful for it.” She nodded towards Darren. “For that cocky kid.” She smirked. “Even when he is a pain in the ass.”
Darren had the ball. He grinned at Derek. He switched his dribble from his right to his left and tried to sneak around Derek again.
Derek smoothly stole the ball. He took it back out to the top of the key. He arched both his eyebrows at Darren and landed the three point shot. “You can’t touch me, boy,” he sing songed.
Darren straightened up in offended dignity. “Boy?” He took the ball and landed the same shot.
Dave whistled. “This might get ugly.”
Fran snickered. “Probably. We’ve got one immature kid and an even bigger immature kid.”
Derek missed his next shot. “Shit!”
So did Darren. “Shit!”
Fran shot them a look. “Language.”
“Sorry,” they chorused.
Fran turned her attention to a laughing Dave. “Speaking of family members who are a pain in the butt, anything happening with Adam?”
Dave’s smile took on a wry twist. “Slowly, but it’s been good. We’ve been trying to get comfortable around each other again. We’ve met a few times for dinner. We caught a hockey game. We’ve been emailing each other recently.”
“Have you told him about Derek?”
“Yeah.”
“And?” Fran prompted.
Dave shrugged. “Well, he was surprised, but he said he’ll get used to it.” One end of his mouth quirked up. “He says he wants to meet the man who managed to turn my head.”
Fran patted Dave’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Derek blocked Darren’s shot and the ball went out of bounds into Fran’s rose bushes. “You’ve got to do better.”
Darren ran to get it. “I’ll show you better, Uncle Derek.”
Fran stood and stretched. “Do you want to invite him and his family here for Christmas?”
Dave looked at her with wide eyes. “You mean that?”
“Of course. Derek already told me that you two are on stand down during the holiday. I want you guys here and I want to meet your brother.”
Dave bit his bottom lip. “I don’t know if he’d be comfortable with that.”
Fran smacked him on the back of the head. “Extend the invitation, David.”
Dave held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I will.”
Derek zipped past Darren. He dunked the ball. He hung of the rim for a moment and then dropped down. “That’s thirty,” he announced triumphantly. “I win.”
Darren glared at him for a second and then grinned. “I’ll get ya next year.”
Derek ruffled Darren’s hair. “Just keep telling yourself that.”
Darren jerked away. “Don’t do that.”
Derek reached out again. “But it’s so much fun.”
Darren ducked away. He scooped the ball up and ran up the steps to jump in front of Fran. “He beat me again, Grandma,” he complained.
Fran gave him a sympathetic look. “Next year. Remember, you’re going to keep getting taller while Derek’s just going to get older.”
Derek ran up the stairs to stand next to Dave. “Thanks a lot, Mom,” he drawled sarcastically. “What have you two been talking about anyway?”
“What we’re thankful for,” Fran answered readily. She took Darren by the shoulders and turned him towards the door. “Your t shirt is soaked. Get inside where it’s warm.”
Darren planted his feet on principle. “Grandma,” he huffed.
Fran gave him a shove. “Go on. I’ve got your favorite Gatorade in the fridge.”
Darren’s face lit up. “Cool.”
Fran went in with him. “Besides, we need to check dinner. You know how your mother and aunt are in the kitchen.”
Dave blew out a long breath. “She told me to invite Adam for Christmas.”
Derek blinked in surprise and then shrugged. “You’d better do it then. You can’t ignore an order from she who must be obeyed,” he said completely deadpan.
“You’d better get along with him.”
Derek smirked. “I’ll be my normal charming self.”
Dave chuckled. “I’m sure you will.”
Derek gave Dave a lopsided smile. He rested a hand on Dave’s lower back and leaned in close. “I won. My winning streak in intact.”
Dave nodded. “But it was close.”
“Close, but I’m still better.”
Dave eyed the way the wet shirt clung to Derek’s skin. He traced Derek’s abs. “So you get the biggest piece of cake that you’ll just have to burn off at the gym.”
Derek shivered but it had nothing to do with the temperature. His voice took on a husky quality. “I can think of other ways to burn calories.”
Darren stuck his head back out the door. “Are you guys coming or what? Uncle Derek, Grandma says it’s almost time to carve the turkey.”
Derek grunted and waved Darren away impatiently. “We’ll be in in a minute.”
“Okay,” Darren returned easily and disappeared.
Dave stood but Derek didn’t move so they were almost pressed together. “We’re being summoned.”
Derek pressed his forehead against Dave’s. He rested his hands on Dave’s hips. “Thanks,” he whispered. “For everything.”
Dave gave Derek a quick soft kiss. “No, Derek. Thank you.”