When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie...

[liberty_mom]

Debbie is more than a little proud of herself as she bustles around the kitchen that night. After much time spent reading in really big, confusing books with a whole lot of technical words that mean jack shit to her, she's figured out how to make mozzarella cheese. She's got a little ball of it in the kitchen with her right now, and there's

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[holdthebucket]

Gordon Cutter hasn't seen a Pizza since the bar in Long Bay after a long day of curling and a longer night of drinking. It's the aroma that overcomes him first, the fresh scent of cheese, the sharp tang of tomato, the hint of meat...his mouth is watering by the time he strode into the kitchen, decked out in his finest glengarry, teeshirt, and jeans.

The woman is what gave him pause next, bigger than life, red headed, and surrounded by one of the finest foods on earth.

In the doorway to the kitchen, Gordon Cutter gaped. It went on for a long few moments.

"My good woman," he said at last, rallying and snagging several slices to his own plate. "You must be descended from divinity to have wrought such a feast. My deepest compliments and respects."

[holdthebucket]

For a long moment, Gordon Cutter is silent, almost as if he was ignoring the question. Ignoring her, the she-beast. But...but she didn't seem the sort that took to ignoring and besides, he hadn't done a thing wrong, had he? This wasn't his fault.

"I am forced to say, madam," he said carefully, still straightening the tablecloth and his plate, "That I really have no notion at all."

[liberty_mom]

Debbie waits until he answers. She's not the most patient woman, but when she wants an answer, she'll get her answer. And his answer? Displeases her.

"No notion at all?" she repeats, scorn in her voice. It doesn't matter what the situation, Debbie's one-sided in the opinion that parents should know and love their kids, force it if necessary. But he's not even remorseful, or hopeless like Jennifer was. That she has sympathy for. "And how exactly does a father not have any notion at all about his fucking son?" There aren't many options, and practically none of them will be acceptable to Debbie.

[holdthebucket]

"He left town, disappeared, no word nor letters," Gordon said, looking up at the woman. If there was a sliver of hurt in him, it was more than he usually showed. "Ten years. Or at least, for me it was so. Here, he is ten years younger than he was the last time I saw him."

He grunted. "I don't pretend to understand it," he said of much more than this one thing.

[liberty_mom]

Okay, that gets some sympathy. But not much.

"Why did he leave?" Debbie asks, her voice instantly softer, kinder, more sympathetic. She's imagining what would have happened if Michael had left without a word, to Portland or God knows where. She would have been heartbroken. "And why aren't you taking advantage of the time you have now. You can get to know him again. It's like a second chance!"

[holdthebucket]

Gordon raised whispy white eyebrows, forwning down at his plate. That right there had been fodder for Long Bay gossip for a solid decade.

"He burned a rock and didn't call it," Gordon said with dull, disappointed detachment. "Dishonored the game, the rink, the town. Even the very name of the Golden Broom."

He sighed and shook his head. "It took him nearly three months to confess his marriage. I haven't stepped foot on the same ice as him in a similar length of time. There is no use. There are bridges and there are singed stumps. I know exactly where I'm standing."

...which is more than he's confessed to a soul in twenty odd years, but there was something about the woman's brash manner than invited - no, demanded frankness

[liberty_mom]

Debbie spends a short amount of time just staring at him, confused, one hand on her hip as she tries to figure out what the fuck he's talking about with rocks and brooms. The most she can figure is that this is all about a game of all fucking things.

Still, she's not without any sympathy, so as much as she wants to slap him upside the head, she doesn't. For the moment, she shows restraint of her hand. "Bridges go both ways, you know. You gotta make an effort, even if he isn't. Because you're his father and you're supposed to love him, and that love's unconditional. It doesn't matter if he ignores you or, or, or insults you or rebukes you, you just keep trying. As long as you're still breathing and he's still breathing, you have to try."

[holdthebucket]

"I am well informed on the ways in which bridges work, madame," Gordon blustered. "However, so for as I understand it, a bridge to nowhere is an exercise in futility. And often best left that way."

[single_digit]

"It's good, eh?" said Eddie, helping himself to a very generous portion of seconds. Maybe he would even bring some back home again for Lily and Emmy, in case it never happened again.

[holdthebucket]

"I say it nearly puts Nug's bar pies to shame," Gordon agreed, waving a slice at Strombeck in a sort of toast.

"So, my boy," he went on, cutting immediately to the chase, "How's the curling? You working on what we talked about?"

His voice implied what was in store for Eddie should the answer be a negation.

[single_digit]

"Of course," said Eddie automatically, because there was no other answer. Except maybe "yes". "I'm getting out on the ice almost every day. Except when I'm working. Or eating pizza."

[holdthebucket]

"I suppose that will do for now," Gordon said, as if granting penance. He attacked another slice. "Have you talked to the rest of the rink?"

The rest of the rink being Chris and Lennox, as Gordon spoke to Neil or his beaver on a daily basis anyway

[single_digit]

"Yeah," said Eddie, only a little awkwardly. "Even though Lennox wasn't supposed to be out on the ice on account of being sick. I guess we're gonna start teaching people soon?"

[holdthebucket]

"Any and all takers, my boy," Gordon intoned, nodded severly. "And as far as sickness goes - it would take a mighty illness to keep any of the rink away for very long. And besides, curling is good for the body. Salubrious. Bracing. I'm sure it did him well."

[single_digit]

Eddie wasn't entirely convinced the cold air did Lennox's lungs any good, but he made sure not to say so in front of Gordon. "I've never really taught anyone to play before," he said. "Except for Emmy, and she doesn't count because she hasn't really figured it out yet."

[holdthebucket]

"There all like babes in swaddling in the beginning," Gordon informed him, dusting his hands off cheese and sauce. "It's left to us to instill honor in them, respect for the game."

"The rest falls in to place of its own accord. That's just training. Honor...that's where we will begin."

In the privacy of his own mind, Gordon Cutter envisions trust falls.

From cliffs 300 feet from the ground.