Ben, Daniel, Gage and Schuyler have gone to Nolan's for a few days. It's hovering just below zero there with a week's worth of snow is on the way and Ben couldn't get a satisfactory answer from Nolan about whether or not he had his property winterized sufficiently already. Nolan is getting old. He forgets things. He's having a bit of trouble keeping up and I daresay we're going to double our efforts to get him to move to the city after one false start and change of heart already. His sons have their own lives and he seems to tell them even less and they have neither the time nor the cash to drop in on him and check and all of his neighbors are gone, haing sold their own properties and moved to assisted living. Nolan will never ever give up without a fight, even if he can't remember who he's fighting with.
So we packed up a huge hamper full of notes, presents, food and goodies for him to enjoy and Ben checked it through at the airport and they're off.
It was like a satellite army of flannel and purpose and I'm so proud. It also gives Ben time with his sponsor that he hasn't had in a while and it gives two sets of very close brothers time to hang out with each other, which doesn't happen enough, sadly.
When we got home, Sam found me putting away wrapping paper and the extra luggage that the boys didn't need and asked if I wanted him to make some lunch for us. That we have turkey left, and ham too, that he could make a mean Monte Cristo given enough space.
I didn't know that.
Well, I can make a mean french toast and this is the same but it's rare for us to have both ingredients on hand and a virtually empty kitchen so we may as well do it sooner rather than later.
I don't think he's talking about sandwiches anymore and I'm such a brat, I want to see where he's going with this or if he's just grasping at...at...I don't know what.
So I smile really big and ask if he needs help getting it together.
No, sit up though and we'll talk while I cook.
So I did and we did and I forgot he was being innuendo-ish or maybe I just read something into it that wasn't there (blame the boys for making me such a flaming deviant) but we had a nice afternoon and the sandwiches were amazing. I even took one out to Lochlan afterward, who was thoroughly enjoying a day outside in the sun working on replating the exterior of the camper while it wasn't raining. He was grateful, starving and completely unaware that yet another minister is making a not-so-subtle play for his girl, right under his nose. I said nothing and just went back to collect the plate later on.
When I brought it into the kitchen I had my confirmation as Sam made an incredibly awkward, yet profoundly sweet offer to fill in for Ben if I missed Ben enough to consider doing something I might have been waverish on thus far. If I needed an extra sleeping person for the night or if I needed anything. If I wanted anything.
Oh, Sam.
Literally the least evil of all the souls here on the point, he smiles bravely but he's trembling behind it.
I know you are.
Then just keep it in mind.
Your openness is something new.
Matthew, of all books, chapter seven. 'Take the plank out of your own eye and then you can see to remove the splinter from your brother's eye.'
Which brother?
I don't think I have to clarify that. I just don't know what to do, so I'm starting with being honest.