WHO: Nate Griggs & Elijah Griggs WHEN: May 9th, 2018. Evening. WHERE: Nate's house. SUMMARY: Eli attempts to hang out with Nate by making him dinner. It's honestly very weird for both of them. WARNINGS: Shouldn't be any. Strained relationship, if anything.
When it came to most things in life, Elijah surged ahead. He aspired for greatness. Hunted down opportunities. He had technically pursued Megan Marple for years before finally asking her out. And once he had, he didn’t waste time letting her know exactly how he felt about her. He knew how he felt about animals and had pursued the dream to half completion. Someday he would make it all the way to veterinarian, but the student loans were stacking up and he needed a job.
Now, he was knee deep in adulting. And part of that process was addressing his past, per his therapist, who tended to dwell on his relationship with Nathan.
“I’ve let it go,” he explained over and over while she watched him over her glasses, scribbling notes into his file, while waiting to smoke him out. It never took long. He folded time and again because Nathan’s impact on his life had been devastating. As an adult attempting to make big moves and bold changes, he had to figure out a way to give it up or get out.
So he made dinner. He stuffed it all in a bag, drove himself over to Nate’s house, and knocked on the door. Unexpected. Possibly unwelcome. For two seconds, he’d convinced himself that no one was home and he hopped down the steps and back toward his car before he turned around and walked back up to wait.
Nate hadn't been home from work for long. He'd taken a shower and changed into clean clothes, and at the moment he was in his kitchen, debating what to do for dinner. There was some leftover pizza that he could eat, or he could make a sandwich. Neither sounded particularly inspiring, but he pulled the pizza box out of the fridge anyway, along with a bottle of beer. Hearing a knock on his door, he set the pizza box and beer on the kitchen counter, then headed to the front.
He wasn't expecting anyone, so it was a considerable surprise to find his son standing there. He certainly didn't forget what happened the last time that Eli had reached out to him. "Eli, hey," he greeted warily. Stepping back, he opened the door a little wider. "Come on in? What's going on?"
“I made you dinner,” he said, lifting the cloth bag full of food. “I figured we should hang out or something,” Eli said. He kicked off his shoes outside of the door before crossing the threshold to trek into Nate’s kitchen. “It’ll need reheated, but I figured you wouldn’t mind if I used your oven for a few.”
Nate closed the door behind Eli, more than a little confused. Eli wanted to hang out with him? This was a complete change from how Eli usually preferred their relationship to be. Not that Nate didn't appreciate this-- he'd wanted to mend his relationship with his son since he had returned, but he'd also accepted that Eli didn't want any kind of relationship with him. But this came out of seemingly nowhere, so he was curious. Maybe Eli finally wanted a relationship with him?
He followed Eli over to the kitchen, grabbing the pizza box and sticking it back in the fridge. Clearing his throat, he said, "That's fine. Let me know if you need anything for it." He leaned against the counter, across the kitchen from the stove, watching his son for a minute. "I'm not saying that your visit and dinner aren't welcome, but is everything ok?" It wasn't completely unreasonable to ask: just about every time that Eli had reached out to him in the past, it had been because something was wrong.
Instead of answering, Eli walked into the kitchen and began the task of unloading the bag. He carefully took out each piece of Tupperware, the casserole dish, the bags of lettuce, bottles of salad dressing. He set everything on the counter, checked the oven before turning it on, and then grabbed himself a bottle of water before he turned to lean against the closest surface.
“How’ve you been? How’s work?”
Nate was still suspicious of Eli's intentions for coming over here. But he wasn't going to chase him away, either. Maybe he would tell him eventually. "I've been fine, work's been fine. Just living my simple life, trying to ignore all the Big Movie people." Especially trying to ignore the redheaded actress. "Went for a drive the other day, just to clear my head and get some peace and quiet from everything." And now he felt much calmer. More able to handle the days without feeling like he was going crazy. "How about you? You… good?"
“Good, good,” he said, nodding as Nate spoke. “Peace and quiet sounds nice.”
The last time he’d seen his father had been the day the picture had surfaced in his apartment. He still didn’t understand what it had been doing there. Or why Nate had it. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was trying to make an effort toward solving his problems with their relationship. After all, Nate had eventually come back to Fall City. For years he’d stayed in one place.
“Yeah,” Eli said with another nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He let silence sing between them--nothing but the hum of the fridge and the soft crunch of gravel outside as the neighbor’s car went by. Finally: “I figured you needed to eat something besides pizza. You’re not allergic to anything, right?”
Not sure what else to do in the silence, Nate popped the cap off his bottle of beer and took a drink. He missed the eight-year-old Eli, who was so excited to spend time with him. And Nate had been happy to spend the time with his son, trying to make up for the lost four years. But when he had come back the second time, the sixteen-year-old Eli didn't want to so much as give him the time of day. Nate had been trying to reconnect, but also trying to give Eli space, and now they were just in some kind of awkward gray area.
"Hey, I eat things other than pizza." Sometimes he got a burger, or went to Mitzi's. He even occasionally cooked, though nothing fancy or involved. But pizza was pretty much a staple. "Nah, I'm not allergic to anything, though." A pause. "Thanks."
“Sure,” Eli replied, nonchalantly, as he glanced toward Nathan. “It won’t be much longer.”
And it wasn’t. Between the awkward silence and the fact that the food had already been pretty warm, the alarm went off and Eli was able to remove the casserole dish from the oven and set it on top of the stove. “Plates in the cupboard?” he asked, throwing a look over his shoulder as he started to reach.
All things considered, an awkward silence between him and Eli was not the worst thing, it may even be bordering on good. Nate took another drink of his beer before the alarm went off. Well, it smelled pretty good. It had been years-- actually, probably closer to decades-- since someone had cooked something for him (not counting restaurants, obviously). "Uh, yeah, that one," he said, nodding to the cupboard that Eli was already reaching for. Even though it was his son-- or maybe especially because it was Eli-- it felt awkward to be standing there while someone else was moving about in his kitchen.
Pulling two plates and a bowl down from the shelves, he filled them, and delivered them to the table, gesturing for Nate to follow him a moment after. It wasn’t the most extravagant dinner ever, but he also didn’t have a lot of time to devote to cooking following work. The lasagna had heated through and the salad was dressed separately.
“So, uh,” Eli started after a few bites, the fork scraping, the quiet chewing, the hum of the oven that he’d neglected to turn off. “How hard is it to get rid of termites?” He didn’t know what else to talk about. He might not care, but it was something Nate likely had to deal with, could care about. “If someone’s having trouble with them, what’s the first course of action?”