Team Nice: Present: "8 minutes and onwards to midnight"
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Title: Eight Minutes and onwards to midnight.
Author: Keenir.
Series: Dutiful.
Summary: A little about Bree on the phone, and then Val breaks big news to Don. And the year ends.
written for N3teamchallenge.
Team: Nice.
Prompt: Present.
what has come before in the series: at the end of Soft Target, Don married Val Eng { here}. Charlie gave them the Craftsman as a present { here}, and Don painted the room that Val said (in Soft Target) would be great for a baby { here}.
Word count: 963.
Spoilers: Soft Target, Provenance, Old Soldiers.
Note: Alan's thought about the fires nearly being extinguished, is based on the line in Provenance about how much of the Eppes family didn't make it.
~~~~~~~~
Eight Minutes to Midnight…
Val:
Don had finished a case with just enough time before the change of years, to get back home and wish Bree a Happy New Year. It was a close call, both with developments in the case, with traffic, and with how busy the phone lines were at this time of year.
Val, who had answered the phone, was saying goodbye to her sister. “I know. I know, Bree. Yes, I - No, you follow up on what you have. Don’t rush back here unless… yeah,” Val nodded. “Say hi for us. Of course I’m confident you’ll find them.” I have every confidence you’ll find the village your birth mother came from. Or where the village used to be.
She listened as Bree went on and some about what she had seen thus far in her trip to the country she had never seen with her own eyes - just photos, videos, listening to veterans.
“How’s the republic?” Don asked, and Val passed the question along.
“Still standing,” Val said, relaying the answer. As am I. Even with what I found out this morning.
Charlie groaned. “Whose idea was it for all the punning? Because I still have some influence at the IRS.”
“You won’t,” Alan said.
“I know,” Charlie said.
Siblings. Val thought to herself, I’m glad mom and dad adopted Bree, and thought that a lot all her life. And not just because most of the people I know who were an only child, don’t turn out like the rest of us.
When Bree hung up, Val clicked the phone shut. And she turned to Don. “There’s something I want to tell you,” Val told him. If not for an American GI who brought her to the States, who knows what her lot in life would be. Or mine - she introduced Don and I, after all.
If ‘introduced’ was a good word for her and him crashing into one another as each one tried to herd their younger sibling.
“Yeah?” Don asked, coming closer.
~~~
Five Minutes to Midnight…
Don:
Don sat himself down. The room was going to be used after all. He had known it was a possibility, but… But like the opportunity to marry Val, it took him by surprise: I’m going to be a father.
A little Eppes wandering around the Craftsman after all these years. This house’s really not safe anymore, looking around at all the low shelves and tables full of stuff.
Don stood up and embraced Val, more gingerly than he had this morning. “I… Val, this is great. If, I mean, you…”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Don,” Val said. “If this isn’t a false alarm, I’m happy.”
“And I’m happy, either way, with you,” Don said. “Go us.”
“Very,” Val said with a grin as they broke the embrace to stand beside one another, an arm still slung around one another, as they watched the clock. “You don’t mind if I invite Kim to the baby shower, do you?”
“Why would I object?”
She gave him a look.
“Oh. Right.” She may have gone to college with you, but I dated her, and that’s the possible conflict of interest you saw.
“You know, Donny,” Alan said. “When I told you marriage involves forgetting other women, I didn’t mean complete amnesia.” He then asked, “Any thought as to names?”
“Since this morning?” Val asked. “Maybe George, after both your father and mine.”
“Not a girl?” Don asked.
“If we have a girl, she won’t be named Victoria, Don. That’s a given.”
“Fine. Then if it’s a boy, his name’ll be Isaac,” Don suggested, half joking.
“No!” Charlie objected.
Don and Val smiled, as did Alan.
“Unrepentant,” Val said softly to Don.
“You know it,” Don whispered to her as he picked up a bottle of beer.
“No beer,” Val said, swiping the bottle from Don’s hand.
“Wait a -”
“We’re both dry during this pregnancy, or neither of us is.”
Nine months of no beer. Don didn’t take his eyes from Val as he carefully got the bottle back and set it on the table. “Chuck! Go get the apple juice!”
~~~
Alan:
Well what do you know - its true: ask for something often enough, and you get it. Though I haven’t mentioned the subject this past year, much.
Course, nobody ever said ‘If at first they don’t succeed, get them together.’ But it worked. Cutest couple on the block, if I do say so myself.
Honestly didn’t think I’d see today, least of all this soon. What with Don being in the hospital so much - granted, any amount’s too much. And what with Val’s promotion meaning extra hours at work. But they still made it work. Smart kids. Good marriage.
So. I’m gonna be a grandpa. My dad was right: we’re like fruitcake, you can’t get rid of all of us and there will always be more. And he was certainly in a position to know - when he was alive, the fires of Yidishkayt were nearly extinguished again.
Three minutes to midnight. Charle comes back out with the apple juice carton. I propose a toast.
Second year of my boy’s marriage. Pour juice into everyone’s glass, which we raise.
And if all goes well, this announcement presages the birth of my first grandchild.
The ball touches down and the crowd goes wild, on screen and here at home more comfortably. Val and Don kiss and snuggle. Charlie goes looking for that notebook he’s been writing all his book notes in. And me?
My first thought of the new year? That I think I know who’s going to be the godfather, whether we have a Victoria or a George. Rodger Bloom.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End
Title: Eight Minutes and onwards to midnight.
Author: Keenir.
Series: Dutiful.
Summary: A little about Bree on the phone, and then Val breaks big news to Don. And the year ends.
written for N3teamchallenge.
Team: Nice.
Prompt: Present.
what has come before in the series: at the end of Soft Target, Don married Val Eng { here}. Charlie gave them the Craftsman as a present { here}, and Don painted the room that Val said (in Soft Target) would be great for a baby { here}.
Word count: 963.
Spoilers: Soft Target, Provenance, Old Soldiers.
Note: Alan's thought about the fires nearly being extinguished, is based on the line in Provenance about how much of the Eppes family didn't make it.
~~~~~~~~
Eight Minutes to Midnight…
Val:
Don had finished a case with just enough time before the change of years, to get back home and wish Bree a Happy New Year. It was a close call, both with developments in the case, with traffic, and with how busy the phone lines were at this time of year.
Val, who had answered the phone, was saying goodbye to her sister. “I know. I know, Bree. Yes, I - No, you follow up on what you have. Don’t rush back here unless… yeah,” Val nodded. “Say hi for us. Of course I’m confident you’ll find them.” I have every confidence you’ll find the village your birth mother came from. Or where the village used to be.
She listened as Bree went on and some about what she had seen thus far in her trip to the country she had never seen with her own eyes - just photos, videos, listening to veterans.
“How’s the republic?” Don asked, and Val passed the question along.
“Still standing,” Val said, relaying the answer. As am I. Even with what I found out this morning.
Charlie groaned. “Whose idea was it for all the punning? Because I still have some influence at the IRS.”
“You won’t,” Alan said.
“I know,” Charlie said.
Siblings. Val thought to herself, I’m glad mom and dad adopted Bree, and thought that a lot all her life. And not just because most of the people I know who were an only child, don’t turn out like the rest of us.
When Bree hung up, Val clicked the phone shut. And she turned to Don. “There’s something I want to tell you,” Val told him. If not for an American GI who brought her to the States, who knows what her lot in life would be. Or mine - she introduced Don and I, after all.
If ‘introduced’ was a good word for her and him crashing into one another as each one tried to herd their younger sibling.
“Yeah?” Don asked, coming closer.
~~~
Five Minutes to Midnight…
Don:
Don sat himself down. The room was going to be used after all. He had known it was a possibility, but… But like the opportunity to marry Val, it took him by surprise: I’m going to be a father.
A little Eppes wandering around the Craftsman after all these years. This house’s really not safe anymore, looking around at all the low shelves and tables full of stuff.
Don stood up and embraced Val, more gingerly than he had this morning. “I… Val, this is great. If, I mean, you…”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Don,” Val said. “If this isn’t a false alarm, I’m happy.”
“And I’m happy, either way, with you,” Don said. “Go us.”
“Very,” Val said with a grin as they broke the embrace to stand beside one another, an arm still slung around one another, as they watched the clock. “You don’t mind if I invite Kim to the baby shower, do you?”
“Why would I object?”
She gave him a look.
“Oh. Right.” She may have gone to college with you, but I dated her, and that’s the possible conflict of interest you saw.
“You know, Donny,” Alan said. “When I told you marriage involves forgetting other women, I didn’t mean complete amnesia.” He then asked, “Any thought as to names?”
“Since this morning?” Val asked. “Maybe George, after both your father and mine.”
“Not a girl?” Don asked.
“If we have a girl, she won’t be named Victoria, Don. That’s a given.”
“Fine. Then if it’s a boy, his name’ll be Isaac,” Don suggested, half joking.
“No!” Charlie objected.
Don and Val smiled, as did Alan.
“Unrepentant,” Val said softly to Don.
“You know it,” Don whispered to her as he picked up a bottle of beer.
“No beer,” Val said, swiping the bottle from Don’s hand.
“Wait a -”
“We’re both dry during this pregnancy, or neither of us is.”
Nine months of no beer. Don didn’t take his eyes from Val as he carefully got the bottle back and set it on the table. “Chuck! Go get the apple juice!”
~~~
Alan:
Well what do you know - its true: ask for something often enough, and you get it. Though I haven’t mentioned the subject this past year, much.
Course, nobody ever said ‘If at first they don’t succeed, get them together.’ But it worked. Cutest couple on the block, if I do say so myself.
Honestly didn’t think I’d see today, least of all this soon. What with Don being in the hospital so much - granted, any amount’s too much. And what with Val’s promotion meaning extra hours at work. But they still made it work. Smart kids. Good marriage.
So. I’m gonna be a grandpa. My dad was right: we’re like fruitcake, you can’t get rid of all of us and there will always be more. And he was certainly in a position to know - when he was alive, the fires of Yidishkayt were nearly extinguished again.
Three minutes to midnight. Charle comes back out with the apple juice carton. I propose a toast.
Second year of my boy’s marriage. Pour juice into everyone’s glass, which we raise.
And if all goes well, this announcement presages the birth of my first grandchild.
The ball touches down and the crowd goes wild, on screen and here at home more comfortably. Val and Don kiss and snuggle. Charlie goes looking for that notebook he’s been writing all his book notes in. And me?
My first thought of the new year? That I think I know who’s going to be the godfather, whether we have a Victoria or a George. Rodger Bloom.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End