WHO: Hugh Christian & Henry March WHEN: Wednesday, Sept. 19 WHERE: Henry's house SUMMARY: Hugh takes his father lunch. Father-son bonding. WARNINGS: I cannot think of anything?
The days without anything to fill them were numbered, and that was all right with Hugh. He'd gotten the casting announcement that morning, and he'd breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to really start thinking about whether he had the head-space to throw into a character of any sort right now, but he also knew, traditionally, when things had been the biggest struggle in his personal life, he'd managed to shine on stage. And it was stage; it was a return to what he'd done most of his professional career and right now that seemed like the best thing he could do for himself. Step away from film, back into something he knew, maybe something where the stakes didn't feel quite so high, and he would be less likely to do something stupid.
Instead of running off to Seattle this morning, he'd decided to make the final remnants of zucchini disappear alongside eggplant and tomatoes into a Ratatouille that was finishing up in the oven. He'd secondarily decided that to take it over to Henry's, and if Henry wanted company then stay for lunch. Alice's birthday had been a couple of days past, and Hugh could only imagine it had been on his father's mind. Certainly it had been in Hugh's thoughts. He glanced at the clock, and then pulled out the baguettes he'd baked the night before, and stuck them into a canvas bag, and then turned back to the oven to pull out the baking pan, which after a few moments to cool, he put into a carrier.
"I'll be back," he told the dogs unnecessarily, as he slid the bag up onto his shoulder, and reached for the vegetable bake before he left the Loft and headed for Henry's.
The fall was always hard. Not that it was officially fall yet. But Alice's birthday was September, Halloween permeated all of October. And another year went by with no truth or even attempts really to find it from other people. Ordinarily Henry spent these months a bit more isolated than usual.
This year that wasn't an option. There was Elvera and the unexpectedness of the future that they were still figuring out. Now he had a son living on his property. Another daughter just in town. It was strange, a state of unease on if it would all come crashing down like it usually did.
He had been reading when there was a knock on the door. An event that was becoming more common than the years previous since moving back. There was a moments hesitance till the bookmark was grabbed and set in place. The door opened. A mild lift of surprise to his eyebrows. “Hello, Hugh.”
"Hey," Hugh offered Henry a quick smile.
He still was never entirely certain if he was bothering his father or not. He knew Henry kept to himself. This week, Hugh felt as if he understood that desire more. Hugh had been largely antisocial since Rhett's arrest, vacillating between blaming himself, blaming Cecelia, attempting to convince himself that whatever he'd given Rhett probably hadn't been the problem - it had been alcohol, or something someone else had given him - they were ways to rationalize things in his head, keep himself from completely falling apart. And all of that had led to him interacting only with Marce, Henry and the few of his Seattle friends he'd seen during that time. And yet, Henry never seemed to turn him away, and Hugh needed to be around people more than he really wanted to admit, so perhaps the dish offered wasn't entirely selfless, even if there was the motivation to make certain Henry was alright. Hugh wasn't unaware of the date after all.
He held the dish up. "We had an over abundance of zucchini, and I thought ratatouille, because what else do you do with zucchini? … If you haven't eaten, I thought maybe we could have lunch?"
“You haven't eaten over here enough if you immediately go to what else could you do with zucchini.” Henry answered, but there was a bit of a wry smile to the corner of his mouth. He stepped aside, letting Hugh in with his offering. “Lunch is fine.”
Hugh’s smile strengthened. “Maybe we should do a recipe swap,” he told Henry. “I’m mostly not used to this much garden zucchini at once. I tend to buy it as I will use it when I’m in Seattle.”
He stepped in, heading immediately to the kitchen. He’d been over enough that he knew his way around by now. “I didn’t interrupt anything terribly important I hope?”
“I've a binder, if you want to look through it.” Henry shrugged as he shut the door and headed into his house. It was getting a little easier to have people around, there was still an oddity to it.
He was working on the nursery. He'd have to get used to the idea of people sooner rather than later.
“Not really.” Henry followed to the kitchen. “I ordered some books on parenting. So. Just reading.”
“I think I finally brought most of my cookbooks over from Seattle,” he reached for plates and silverware, and then a cutting board for the baguette. “I still have a few things there. I’m debating even what to do with the apartment.”
A knife allowed him to slice the bread up and he turned back. “Are you excited about parenting?” It was strange to talk about sometimes thinking about what might have been, but also realizing at the same time Hugh might not be so far away from parenting himself. He knew Marce wanted kids.
Henry pondered on what Hugh might be doing with the apartment. He did have an idea that most people didn't just keep real estate to have it. “Do you want to keep it?” Henry asked, curious if Hugh had reasons for keeping it.
With the thought of parenting, Henry's brows lifted and he gave a bit of a shrug, brushing off the emotion that came with that thought. “I've never done it before.” He answered honestly. “Seems like a new challenge. I've always liked kids.”
Hugh dished up vegetables, added bread slices, thoughtful as he did so. “As long as I’m doing live theater in Seattle, I figured there are nights where it’d be nice to just stay there and not drive back,” he put the plates at the table and looked at Henry and frowned. “It’s nice to have somewhere to disappear to — which isn’t really practical. I love the city, and it’s hard to think about only being here, which isn’t to say I dislike it here,” he quickly added. “It’s just…” claustrophobic felt like the best word but Hugh didn’t know if he should use it. He shrugged. “I’ll get used to it probably.”
He nodded his head to the plates on the table and sat down, “I’ve helped out with the summer camps Seattle Shakespeare does, so I like slightly older theater kids anyway,” he chuckled. “I don’t know much about babies.”
It was a fair enough answer. Fall City wasn't for everyone. Really it wasn't even for Henry. But here he was. And here he'd be.
“I can't say I have much experience with them.” Henry took his seat across from his son. “I imagine Elvera knows a fair amount though.”
Hugh nodded. "I would assume so, although I remember mom saying that we were all different as kids. Although, to be honest, I always figured that was mostly about me, because Rachel and Ezra were well-behaved," he quipped wryly. "Hopefully, for your sake, this one is well-behaved."
Henry thought about it. He certainly hadn't been. At least not according to Clifford. Alice had been. Or maybe he had just always seen her that way. “Who knows. Maybe they'll be the wildest of the lot.”
"If so, then I'm very sorry," Hugh grinned, shaking his head with a smile. "I will warn you in advance that I attended rather a few parties during high school, and a very large number when I was at UW, so you potentially have that to look forward to." He reached for the bread and took a bite, chewing and swallowing before he added. "I will endeavor to be a good influence though."
It was strange to think about adding yet another sibling to the list, one that would potentially be closer in age to his own children, than to himself. He'd be more like an Uncle probably than a brother. "This older brother thing is alright," he added, perhaps a bit more quietly than he'd intended originally as he knew that counted Alice as well as Diamond as well as this new baby.
“If parties are all I have to worry about, they'll be better behaved than I was.” Henry offered with his own smile. It hadn't always been farms and isolation and fake attempts at peace.
“Is it?” Henry asked curiously, the weight of the three siblings it now mean obvious. But he tried to keep it light. “I never was one. Well. That I'm aware of. I could be, given circumstances.”
Hugh quirked an eyebrow up, curiosity piqued. There was still so much about Henry he didn't know. And while Hugh didn't want to pry, he also did want to get to know the man who was his father. Nature, nuture - he felt the connection to Henry - and it was ironic that both Henry and Isaac had been in the same business, but Hugh had struggled to connect to Isaac, and had found Henry easy enough to talk to even before he'd realized.
"I'm not certain if I'm more curious about what the least behaved thing you did as a child was, or about 'circumstances'."
“That would depend on the cut off age, likely.” Henry reached out to dish a serving to himself. “As for circumstances. It's been rumored often enough. But that's more March family secrets.”
"Pick an age?" Hugh suggested, suspecting that what Henry selected might be as interesting as the thing itself. "If it's not in the book, and it's not somewhere very obvious on the Internet, and you haven't told me… I don't know it."
Fair enough. Unlike Diamond, Hugh hadn't spent his life in Fall City with it's rumor mill. “There's a distinct possibility that I'm in the same situation as you.” Henry answered light before taking a bite. “I just never bothered to find the man responsible.”
For a heartbeat Hugh was silent, letting himself thoroughly chew the bite he’d just taken. His gaze lifted to Henry’s face, examining it in silence. They’d all seen photos of Ed on the set. Hugh hadn’t really paid attention to them that closely. He set down his fork and reached for bread. “I might not have, had I not ended up filming here. I made a joke, and…” Blaze had started asking questions. “I guess, I looked enough like Mom that I never asked the question until someone else did. And then Isaac was definitely not my father. It just, pieces started to add up. But I don’t think Mom would have ever said had I not asked.” He wasn’t certain if he was explaining or defending. He shook his head. “Anyway.” He looked at Henry, hesitant, uncertain where to go from there. “I guess another similarity.” They were there in all these different ways.
“Oh my parents never told me.” Henry answered easily enough. It was strange, talking about these things when he'd spent his entire life doing the exact opposite. They always thought he was trying to destroy the family when he labored under lie after lie. He imagined most families were like that. “I never asked. I overheard. And let it be.”
Hugh wondered what it would have been like to discover that way rather than to uncover it himself through someone who was sympathetic but an outsider. He nodded. “I can understand that,” he said finally, quietly. After all he had showed up on Henry’s doorstep initially, not his mother’s. "In truth," Hugh said wryly, "my question was more of a statement. I just wanted to know, even though I wasn't really certain if you'd want… anything. I think, I'd gone without saying things for so long with Marceline, skirting around things, showing but not saying, because it seemed safer, but it also … wasn't always good and I didn't want to do that again with something that felt just as big." He hesitated. "Your mother is still alive, right?"
It was a wider frame of mind than Henry had possibly ever been in. A credit to Hugh and to Mary in those regards. Possibly Isaac as well though Henry cynically doubted it. “I'm glad you decided to do what I couldn't.” He answered honestly. Then a laugh. “She is. I wouldn't recommend meeting her. But I can have it arranged.”
Hugh’s smile was warm and he met Henry’s eyes. He was glad he had too. For all there were moments he wished he hadn’t signed on to the production he wouldn’t have given up this for anything. To have a father that actually seemed to be Interested in him was novel in the best way. He laughed at this. “I bow to your greater knowledge on this topic. But, I did grow up with Isaac constantly judging my every move,” he grinned. “I’m tougher than I may look.”
A snort of laughter. “She's got years on Isaac to refine her gift of letting you know you've disappointed her in every way possible.”
“You’re telling me she probably writes the Seattle Times theater reviews under a false name then,” Hugh teased back, although even as he did there was a pang of empathy.
“Oh she might actually.” Henry commented mildly. “She doesn't have much else going on.”
“Well then I already know that I disappointed her as Mr Rochester,” Hugh chuckled. “Which I would feel worse about, but dammit, I really enjoyed that role.” He finished with a shrug and a smile. It also reminded him: “I got the casting list for The Arms and the Man, and I start rehearsals for that next Monday. I’m glad to have a project again.” Less time to think. Less time to wonder whether there were threads that could still be pulled.
“Did you?” There was a curious look towards Hugh, even if he was not exactly surprised. Hugh was doing what he loved and if it paid his bills then why not. “When should I expect tickets to go on sale?”
Hugh blinked. It shouldn't have surprised him, but in a way it did. His mother was always interested in his work, Isaac never had been, and Henry - well he supposed Henry was an unknown. It was not as if the film was going to be something he anticipated Henry going out to see, even if he had financed it.
"I'm pretty certain you can buy them online now. The performance won't be until end of November and first of December, but I can send you a link… if you really are interested? I'll be playing Bluntschli, so I'll have a fair amount of stage time."
“I’m planning on forcing Marina to go with me.” A bit of a smirk teased. “She needs to get out more.”
Hugh looked up, uncertain if Henry was serious or not, he finally decided to just chuckle. “Does she enjoy theatre or will I have the undertaking of selling her on the institution?”
A chuckle as he leaned back. “Marina enjoys theater, she’s just very critical. It’ll balance out Elvera’s boundless enthusiasm.”
“I don’t mind criticism from someone who appreciates the craft.” A beat and he smirked slightly. “That isn't to say that I accept it without any blow to the self esteem, mind. I am an actor still.”
“Don't let her know that. I'm fairly certain she lives off of the self esteem of people she crushes.” There was a wry fondness to his comment. “Granted that usually benefits me so I can't complain.”
"She seemed very competent," Hugh smiled, although it wasn't quite as brightly, as his mind floated back to the reason he knew that in the first place. There was still both the worry, and the guilt lurking. "I would definitely prefer to have her on my side."
“She is at the moment.” Henry nodded as he took another bite. “We met in college. So. She's been putting up with my shit for decades.”
"So she's a lawyer and a friend all rolled into one," Hugh chuckled. "I can think of worse combinations." He took a bite of his food, and for a moment was quiet. It had been helpful to talk to her. There were perks to having a biological father who had a personal lawyer on retainer certainly.
He hesitated. "I know maybe you don't want to talk about … Alice, but if you do, ever. I'd like to know more about her… I'm not saying you have to," he looked up to catch Henry's face. "But if you want to, I'll listen. I guess, is all I'm saying. She's been on my mind, recently. And… anyway…" he trailed off, reaching for the slice of bread again.
The topic change wasn't unexpected. How could it be? With everything, with the time of year. Henry set done his fork. If anyone deserved to know, Hugh and Diamond were up there. “What do you want to know?”