HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DON EPPES!!!
Title: Birthday Memories
Fandom: Numb3rs
Characters: Don Eppes, Bradford
Prompt: Don’s birthday celebration at eppes_challenge and varietypack100 #91 Birthday
Word Count: 1050
Rating: FRK
Summary: Don tells Bradford about a good birthday.
Disclaimer: The closest thing I own to Numb3rs is a calculator. CH and NF own the boys. I do own Melinda.
Author's Notes: See Assertion
“Did you ever have a good birthday?”
“What?” That certainly wasn’t the question that Don expected Bradford to ask right after handing him the cup of coffee that seemed to always start their sessions.
“You got a birthday coming up,” the large man settled gracefully into his office chair. “Since we talked about a bad birthday, I thought we might talk about a good one.”
Don sighed and moved to lookout the window, “Can we not talk about my upcoming birthday? I heard about it enough last night.”
“Oh,” the man was an expert at prompting explanations.
“Yeah, I went to Charlie’s for dinner last night and dad was teasing me about turning 40. Offering advice on covering the grey and that type of over-the-hill stuff. Thankfully, Millie was there and did some quick math and started teasing him about being 65 and collecting social security.”
Bradford laughed, “Sounds like she fits right in.”
Don shrugged and crossed the room to sit on the couch, “I’m getting used to her. She’s pretty funny, can take as good as she gives, and doesn’t seem to mind that Charlie and I are close to Pop. His last girlfriend, the caterer, wanted as little to do with us as humanly possible.”
Bradford looked at him for a few moments, before nodding his head, “So, about that good birthday.”
“Just so you know, I had more good birthdays than bad,” Don expelled a deep breath. “My parents were both big on birthdays. For at least a week before there was the big build up, the hints about your present and party, morning countdowns, the whole thing. It was your day and your day alone. That was really nice, especially after Charlie’s gift emerged.” Don fell silent after he said that.
He was silent so long that Bradford finally felt compelled to prompt him, “What are you thinking about?”
Don’s head fell back against the sofa, “I was thinking about my first birthday after Charlie was… well, became that curly headed black hole. I thought that was going to be my worst birthday ever. My parents had warned me that there wouldn’t any big party that year, cause of all the time and money that they were spending on Charlie. I mean, they didn’t come right out and tell me that, but even at eight - almost nine - I knew what was going on. But, you know, I expected something. At least Dad’s typical shtick with the morning newspaper, ‘Margaret, do you know what it says here? It says that Donnie Eppes is going to be nine in four days. Can you believe that?’ Dad did that till we were way too old to enjoy it, but that one year he did nothing. Mom didn’t do anything, either, and then the morning of my birthday I knew they had completely forgotten. Instead of being woken by breakfast in bed, typical Eppes birthday breakfast, I was awoken by a three year old Charlie bouncing on my stomach. Not my favorite way to be woken, even though it happened almost every morning.” Don rolled his head to look at Bradford, “That morning the sight of him without Mom or Dad and the breakfast tray pissed me off so much that I nearly threw him across the room. So, I wasn’t in the best mood when I headed downstairs for breakfast. When I got downstairs I threw something - a really good tantrum. Instead of pancakes, there was a bowl of oatmeal at my place. I went into a screaming fit. Not a very smart thing. Dad told me to take my oatmeal to the kitchen and myself to my room cause I was grounded. When I picked up the bowl, there sat two tickets to Disneyland. You know what I did then?”
Bradford shook his head.
Don laughed, “I burst into tears. I thought for sure that I had actually been grounded and I was going to miss Disneyland. Dad felt so guilty, he pulled me into his lap, rocking me and apologizing as I cried. It had been his idea to trick me into thinking that they had forgotten my birthday, so I’d be really surprised about Disneyland.”
Don suddenly sat forward and pulled out his wallet. After a moment of searching, he found what he was looking for and handed Bradford a small white rectangle.
Turning it over, Bradford discovered it was a folded piece of paper and began carefully opening the folds. The paper turned out to be a picture. A picture of a younger man that looked a great deal like Don and a young boy; they were both wearing Mickey Mouse ears in front of the Matterhorn ride and smiling brightly at the camera. Bradford examined the picture for a moment, noticing that the picture had been folded so carefully that neither face was creased. Bradford looked up at Don, “You and your dad?”
“Yeah,” Don dipped his head, embarrassed. “I’m carried that picture with me for years. That was one of the best days of my life. We did everything Tomorrowland, Fantasyland, Frontierland, and Adventureland. We also ate everything that day, at least three of those ice cream pops shaped like Mickey. And it was just Dad, Mom and me. Charlie stayed home with Mrs. Petrie, our piano teacher.”
“Not that that’s what made it so good, right?”
Don sighed, “You know, by the end of the day I actually missed the little twerp. I made Dad buy him this huge stuffed Goofy. He loved that thing for years.”
“Was that your first time at Disney?”
“That was my only time at Disney,” Don sounded surprised, like he had never realized that before. He put a hand out for his picture and studied it before folding it, with extreme care, and placing it back in his wallet. Standing, Don gestured for the door, “Mind if we cut this short today?”
Bradford shrugged, “I guess not.”
“Thanks. See you, next week,” Don was out the door before Bradford could respond. By the time he reached the hall, his cell phone was at his ear, “Hey, Pop, it’s me. You wanted to know what I wanted to do for my birthday? How about we let Chuck teach us about the math behind Space Mountain? …”
Fandom: Numb3rs
Characters: Don Eppes, Bradford
Prompt: Don’s birthday celebration at eppes_challenge and varietypack100 #91 Birthday
Word Count: 1050
Rating: FRK
Summary: Don tells Bradford about a good birthday.
Disclaimer: The closest thing I own to Numb3rs is a calculator. CH and NF own the boys. I do own Melinda.
Author's Notes: See Assertion
“Did you ever have a good birthday?”
“What?” That certainly wasn’t the question that Don expected Bradford to ask right after handing him the cup of coffee that seemed to always start their sessions.
“You got a birthday coming up,” the large man settled gracefully into his office chair. “Since we talked about a bad birthday, I thought we might talk about a good one.”
Don sighed and moved to lookout the window, “Can we not talk about my upcoming birthday? I heard about it enough last night.”
“Oh,” the man was an expert at prompting explanations.
“Yeah, I went to Charlie’s for dinner last night and dad was teasing me about turning 40. Offering advice on covering the grey and that type of over-the-hill stuff. Thankfully, Millie was there and did some quick math and started teasing him about being 65 and collecting social security.”
Bradford laughed, “Sounds like she fits right in.”
Don shrugged and crossed the room to sit on the couch, “I’m getting used to her. She’s pretty funny, can take as good as she gives, and doesn’t seem to mind that Charlie and I are close to Pop. His last girlfriend, the caterer, wanted as little to do with us as humanly possible.”
Bradford looked at him for a few moments, before nodding his head, “So, about that good birthday.”
“Just so you know, I had more good birthdays than bad,” Don expelled a deep breath. “My parents were both big on birthdays. For at least a week before there was the big build up, the hints about your present and party, morning countdowns, the whole thing. It was your day and your day alone. That was really nice, especially after Charlie’s gift emerged.” Don fell silent after he said that.
He was silent so long that Bradford finally felt compelled to prompt him, “What are you thinking about?”
Don’s head fell back against the sofa, “I was thinking about my first birthday after Charlie was… well, became that curly headed black hole. I thought that was going to be my worst birthday ever. My parents had warned me that there wouldn’t any big party that year, cause of all the time and money that they were spending on Charlie. I mean, they didn’t come right out and tell me that, but even at eight - almost nine - I knew what was going on. But, you know, I expected something. At least Dad’s typical shtick with the morning newspaper, ‘Margaret, do you know what it says here? It says that Donnie Eppes is going to be nine in four days. Can you believe that?’ Dad did that till we were way too old to enjoy it, but that one year he did nothing. Mom didn’t do anything, either, and then the morning of my birthday I knew they had completely forgotten. Instead of being woken by breakfast in bed, typical Eppes birthday breakfast, I was awoken by a three year old Charlie bouncing on my stomach. Not my favorite way to be woken, even though it happened almost every morning.” Don rolled his head to look at Bradford, “That morning the sight of him without Mom or Dad and the breakfast tray pissed me off so much that I nearly threw him across the room. So, I wasn’t in the best mood when I headed downstairs for breakfast. When I got downstairs I threw something - a really good tantrum. Instead of pancakes, there was a bowl of oatmeal at my place. I went into a screaming fit. Not a very smart thing. Dad told me to take my oatmeal to the kitchen and myself to my room cause I was grounded. When I picked up the bowl, there sat two tickets to Disneyland. You know what I did then?”
Bradford shook his head.
Don laughed, “I burst into tears. I thought for sure that I had actually been grounded and I was going to miss Disneyland. Dad felt so guilty, he pulled me into his lap, rocking me and apologizing as I cried. It had been his idea to trick me into thinking that they had forgotten my birthday, so I’d be really surprised about Disneyland.”
Don suddenly sat forward and pulled out his wallet. After a moment of searching, he found what he was looking for and handed Bradford a small white rectangle.
Turning it over, Bradford discovered it was a folded piece of paper and began carefully opening the folds. The paper turned out to be a picture. A picture of a younger man that looked a great deal like Don and a young boy; they were both wearing Mickey Mouse ears in front of the Matterhorn ride and smiling brightly at the camera. Bradford examined the picture for a moment, noticing that the picture had been folded so carefully that neither face was creased. Bradford looked up at Don, “You and your dad?”
“Yeah,” Don dipped his head, embarrassed. “I’m carried that picture with me for years. That was one of the best days of my life. We did everything Tomorrowland, Fantasyland, Frontierland, and Adventureland. We also ate everything that day, at least three of those ice cream pops shaped like Mickey. And it was just Dad, Mom and me. Charlie stayed home with Mrs. Petrie, our piano teacher.”
“Not that that’s what made it so good, right?”
Don sighed, “You know, by the end of the day I actually missed the little twerp. I made Dad buy him this huge stuffed Goofy. He loved that thing for years.”
“Was that your first time at Disney?”
“That was my only time at Disney,” Don sounded surprised, like he had never realized that before. He put a hand out for his picture and studied it before folding it, with extreme care, and placing it back in his wallet. Standing, Don gestured for the door, “Mind if we cut this short today?”
Bradford shrugged, “I guess not.”
“Thanks. See you, next week,” Don was out the door before Bradford could respond. By the time he reached the hall, his cell phone was at his ear, “Hey, Pop, it’s me. You wanted to know what I wanted to do for my birthday? How about we let Chuck teach us about the math behind Space Mountain? …”