She nodded. “My dad worked along the shore in the paper mills north of here. When he lost his job there, we moved south and he worked on fishing boats.” She sipped her drink, apparently lost in thought.
“I think he felt like he’d failed us. He didn’t really start drinking until he lost the job in the mill. It was mid-level and he was making pretty good money. I don’t remember much, I was pretty young. But I do remember arguments about money and staying out late, that sort of thing.”
“Do you have siblings?”
“Nope, just me.” She looked down at the remote in her hand and sighed. “I wonder if it might have been better if there had been more kids in our family. Maybe a son,” she grinned. “Even in these ‘enlightened times’ men still like having sons to play ball with.”
He shrugged, “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t spend a lot of time playing ball with my foster fathers. They either had kids of their own or spent a lot of time working.”
“And you have no brothers or sisters?” she asked and stared at the television where she was surfing through channels.
“Not that I know of. Of course, I didn’t know my father, so I may be one of a dozen.”
She started the movie and they watched the action movie begin. As the action hero crawled through ductwork, Ephraim held a running commentary of how that was impossible. “It wouldn’t possibly hold his weight, let alone be big enough for him.”
Sophie began to laugh at his disgusted expressions at the improbable stunts occurring in the film and soon it became twelve things wrong about this holiday movie. By the end of the show, they were planning the next one about a kid left behind at home and going up against robbers.
Sophie began the process of popping popcorn. “I can’t believe you haven’t seen any of these movies. They’re classics.”
“I usually volunteered for duty during the holidays. If guys wanted off a few days or had wives and kids, it was easier. Besides, I’d get brownie points when I took extra duties.” He found butter in the refrigerator and put some in a bowl before setting it in the microwave to melt. “What do you usually do during Christmas when you aren’t having to baby sit a man with a headache?”
She glanced over her shoulder from the air popper and frowned. “I thought you said the headache was gone.”
“Just a dull throb every now and then.” He turned the microwave on and leaned against the counter beside it. “Spill. What am I preventing you from doing? Big parties? A huge meal you spend the rest of the day recovering from?”
She shrugged. “This. I go to see my folks after the new year, when things are a little slow for the rentals. During the Christmas season, I’m busy cleaning after today and before New Years. A lot of people come down in between the holidays to decompress, or party, depending on the ages.”
“So, you’ll have to work tomorrow?” he started wondering again if he needed to call in another protector. He knew Sophie didn’t trust others that easily but if it was the better thing to do, he’d do it.
“I rearranged some things. I’ll have the long weekend then go back on Monday.”
“Which means, you’ll have longer days’ work starting Monday.”
She shrugged again, “I like my work.”
They settled in for the next movie and then another one after that. Soon, the room had fallen dark with the coming night and Sophie stretched. “Time for dinner.”
Ephraim straightened from the near doze he’d been in and rubbed his stomach. “With the popcorn, cocoa and cookies you’ve made, I don’t think I need anything else.”
She relaxed back on the sofa. “Don’t have to ask me twice.” She tossed the remote to him and picked up a decorative pillow which she hugged to herself. “You choose the next movie.”
He flicked through channels featuring people at tree lots, skaters, men and women dancing and other movies too sappy for anyone’s own good. Then he stopped at the sight of a man on top of a house, stringing lights. He said, “What about this one?”
When Sophie didn’t respond he turned to her. Her face had paled in the light from the television. “No?”
“No.” she said in a flat tone and instead of pressing her he continued. When a cartoon he vaguely remembered from his childhood flashed on the screen, he glanced at her. “Okay?”
She smiled. “I love the Grinch. After we watch the cartoon let’s find the movie and compare.”
“There’s a movie?” he asked and she reached to a small table beside her and flicked on a lamp.
“Have you lived in a cave the last thirty years? Yes, there’s a movie.”
“Maybe I have,” he said and settled to watch the movie. He ignored the gaze she kept on him for a while and relaxed when she turned to watch the short animated film.
“You know the song?” he laughed as she sang softly under her breath and she threw the pillow at him.
“Yes, I know the song. And all of the characters and the plot and the story behind the book. Wanta make something of it?” She assumed a mock fighting stance and Ephraim held up his hands.
