I wasn't aware I'd dozed off until I woke up. Tony was stopping the car, parking it. I blink, looking around to see where we are. Shit. Mike's driveway. I'd slept thru the rest of the trip.
"Have a nice nap?"
He sounds amused, so I know he's smiling even before I look at him. I scowl. "You shouldn't have let me fall asleep."
"Right." Tony snorts. "Because keeping you awake and worrying needlessly would have been so much better."
"Shaddup." I lightly cuff the back of his head.
He grins back at me, unrepentant and uncowed. I love when he does that. If he hadn't been able to stand up to me, not sure we'd have ever made it this far.
"C'mon." Tony opens the door. "They are probably waiting for us."
Like that is supposed to be encouraging, I think, rolling my eyes. I realize that unlike the last time we were here, there are several vehicles in the driveway. Mike's older pick up I remember from our last visit. The car with North Carolina plates must be Gabe's. The other looks like a rental---probably Zeke's. And there is more than just kitchen and porch light on. Looks like every room downstairs is lit. Makes the big, old Victorian look warm and inviting.
The screen door bangs open. I catch sight of a younger man with long, sun-bleached blond hair leaping off the porch to sweep Tony into a bone crushing hug that would give Abby a run for her money. Tony returns the exuberant greeting, hugging this guy just as hard.
They are both laughing, and there is a quick exchange of cheek kisses. I lean against the car, trying not to interrupt their reunion. Figure I can learn a lot just watching, no reason to waste the opportunity.
I remember seeing Gabe in the family photo but for some reason I just assumed he'd be more quiet and reserved like Mike. The picture didn't come close to capturing the energy of this kid. I can't help wondering how much caffeine he drinks a day.
He's got the same wiry build of his older brother, but Gabe is closer to Tony's height. Not quite sure what to make of the long hair. Wasn't that long in the picture I saw but that photo was a few years old. To each his own I guess.
When Tony said Gabe worked for the state monitoring water quality, I assumed that meant lab work. But from the windburn I can see on his cheeks and the freckles that lightly decorate nearly every bit of visible skin, I have to rethink that assumption. Gabe obviously spends a lot of time outdoors.
"Gabe, ease up there, piccalino. He needs to breathe."
Mike is leaning against one of the porch pillars, arms crossed, looking fondly amused by his little brother's antics. I was so focused on Gabe and Tony I hadn't even heard him step outside. I wave to him and he smiles back, giving me a brief nod.
Gabe finally releases the death grip he's got on Tony, his grin still bright and joyful. I have a feeling that's a normal look for him. Another thing he has in common with Abby.
"You aren't the only one who wants to say hello, brat."
That voice is a rich baritone I'm unfamiliar with. I belatedly notice what I should have seen before; Mike's not alone on the porch. Again I realize I'd made more faulty assumptions. Sort of expected Mike's brothers to sound like him, and while they all have a similar accent, that deep voice definitely makes Zeke unique from the other two.
That isn't all. Zeke is wearing what Shepard would call 'office casual', a forest green polo shirt and khaki pants. It is a marked contrast to the faded denim jeans and flannel shirts both Gabe and Mike have on. His dark blond hair was probably cut and styled in a place that likely cost a fortune. He looked like Tony did those times I'd mentally labeled 'GQ days'.
Unlike Gabe, Zeke doesn't leap off the porch. But the hug he gives Tony is just as warm and heartfelt. And again, there are kisses to both cheeks. Guess it really is a family tradition thing.
When they finally pull apart, Tony reaches for my hand, and I clasp his without thinking about it. He tugs me forward. "Jethro, let me introduce you." He nods first to Gabe. "Gibbs, I'd like you to meet, Gabriel Capanzini. Gabe to friends and family." He smiles at Zeke. "And this is Ezekiel Capanzini. Zeke for short."
He pulls me a little closer. "Zeke and Gabe, this is Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He prefers Jethro."
Both of them smile, Gabe wide and welcoming, Zeke a bit more reserved but no less honest. "Nice to meet you, Jethro."
"Wow---stereo." Tony snickers.
Gabe waggles his eyebrows. "Wait till Sammy gets here."
Zeke punches him in the arm. "Knock it off, ya wingnut. You'll scare Jethro off before we get a chance to know him." He gives me the same winsome smile I've seen Tony use. "Don't mind him. He doesn't get out much."
Gabe sticks out his tongue. The childish gesture reminds me of Abby again. It suddenly makes sense why Tony always got along with her so well.
I hold out my hand. Zeke shakes it. He's got a good grip...definitely does more than push a pencil. "Nice to meet you too."
Gabe offers his hand as well. The calluses on his fingers and palm tell me he definitely works with his hands. I get the feeling he'd like to just pull me into a hug and give me a greeting similar to the one he gave Tony, but a sharp look from Zeke keeps him from doing it. Can't decide if I'm relieved or disappointed.
Before I can make up my mind another voice calls from the porch. This one is far more heavily accented and decidedly female. She's speaking in a mixture of English and Italian that leaves me getting about one word in ten. From her warm smile and the way she pulls Tony into yet another hug, it is clear she's happy to see him.
Mike and his brother's must have gotten their bone structure and blonde hair from their father. Momma C is a solidly built lady---not fat, just not what I'd call delicate. It isn't hard to picture her as a young woman. Probably had all the curves most women today starve themselves to avoid.
Her hair was likely the same color as Tony's at one point. The dark strands I see scattered among the silver are evidence of that. She's not so vain then as to dye it.
"Let me look at you, Antonio." She steps back from their hug, reaching up to cup his face. It's only then that I realize she's so much shorter than my lover. Like Gabe, she radiates a sort of life and energy that makes her seem larger.
"Do you not eat, Innamorto?" She clucks her tongue. "You are much too thin."
I try not to cringe. It's not like I don't make sure Tony eats. Hopefully, it's just something she says all the time.
Tony laughs, "I eat, Momma C."
She arches an elegant eyebrow. "Junk food," she declares with certainty. "That is not the same as eating. Not a real meal. You know this, si? I tell you all the time."
Tony sighs and leans forward to place a kiss on her forehead. He says something that sounds like agreement or is meant to pacify her. At least as far as I can tell...I really hate not understanding what is being said. Tony's taught me a few words, some expressions but not nearly enough. It would be easier if they weren't speaking a regional dialect version of Italian. The stupid language tapes I got don't help worth a damn.
When she pulls away from Tony she gives me an inquiring look. Her eyes are the same warm caramel color as sons'.
"You must be Jethro." The richness of her voice makes me wonder if she can sing.
"Yes, Ma'am."
She eyes me, and I can feel myself almost coming to attention. Make sense I guess. Last time anyone gave me such a frank appraisal was my commanding officer when I was still in the Corps. I found myself hoping it wasn't overly obvious what Tony and I had done in the car on the way here. And thinking I should have dressed a little nicer. Maybe brought flowers or something.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," I offer, holding out my hand, pleased both my voice and hand are steady.
She smiles, eyes twinkling and I know the look she'd given me was deliberate. She wanted to see how I'd react. Can't quite tell if I passed muster or not. Maybe the jury is still out. But she does take my hand in both of hers.
"Come, you must be tired and hungry."
I am man enough to admit I was momentarily worried Tony might leave me alone with her. But he's right next to me, an arm over my shoulder, as we head into the house. He gets another hug and more kisses from Mike. I get a slap on the back and a smile.
"Nice to see you again."
"Same here." I know he knows I mean that. And not just because he might be my only ally here, other than Tony.
The table is set when we get inside, and there is a red-head in the kitchen. Carol...I recognize her from the photos. They didn't do her justice. She's even more striking in person. Her fair skin surprisingly unmarked by freckles, but there are a few laugh lines around her jade green eyes, probably from the amount of time she spends outside like her fiance. Unlike Gabe, her hair is shorter than it was in the shots I saw. The cut is similar to whatever Shepard had done to her hair, but on Carol it really works, making her look like a pixie.
"About time you all decided to come in from the cold." She smiles brightly. "I was beginning to think I'd never get a chance to say hello."
"You could have come out to join us," Tony points out, stepping close to give her a hug.
"And leave the food, never," she laughs. "Momma C made biscotti."
"Tell me you didn't eat them all." Tony's eyes narrow.
"Most of it." She points to Gabe. "And what I didn't eat, he did."
"Well some one had to make sure it was okay." Gabe grins back, unrepentant.
"Like it is ever not okay." Zeke snorts.
"Well you ate all the chocolate cake."
"I only had one piece."
"Yeah, the last piece."
"I'm Carol," she says to me, neatly ignoring the ongoing--discussion, argument, squabble...whatever and offers me her hand.
"I'm Jethro." She's got a grip that reminds me of Kate...strong without being hard.
"Don't mind Zeke and Gabe." She gives the still arguing siblings a fond look. "They are just a bit competitive."
"Yeah, like the ocean has a little water in it," Tony says with a wink. "Wait until they break out the games."
Carol rolls her eyes. "I'm not playing with them any more."
"You said that last year," Mike points out dryly. "And you still got suckered in."
"I'm older and wiser this year."
"Bullshit," Mike coughs into his hand.
Gibbs half expected to see Momma C cuff him one for cursing, but she didn't seem at all fazed by it. She does however neatly put a stop to Gabe and Zeke's squabbling. It takes only a few sharp words. She didn't even have to raise her voice and they are giving her looks that would be more at home on boys who got caught stealing cookies than grown men. I am impressed.
"Sorry, Momma." They say it together. I get the feeling they do that a lot.
She dips her head, accepting their apology. She smiles at me and Tony. "Come, sit." She waves a hand at the others. "Everyone, please, take your seats."
Mike sits at the head of the table with Momma C at his right. Zeke sits at the opposite end, with Carol and Gabe next to one another. The arrangement makes it possible for me to sit next to Tony but also leaves me directly across from Momma C. I got a feeling that was intentional.
"Michael," she nods to him and he says grace. He didn't do that the last time I was here, but I doubt he would actually refuse his mother.
The food is all light fare. And it reminds me of the late meals I had in Europe , traditionally served with wine. I'm not surprised to see Zeke getting up to fill each of our glasses with a dark red wine.
"You bring this with you?" Tony asks.
"Natch." He grins. "Reds are better there."
I'm not clear on what Momma C says until she holds up her glass. When everyone else does it, I follow suit. Maybe offering a toast is tradition like saying grace.
"To the family you are born into," she pauses to look at each of her sons, "and to the family you choose," she looks at me, Tony and Carol, "may they always be happy and healthy."
Something in Italian echoes around the table. I hope no one notices I didn't say it. I get a small understanding smile from Carol. Nice to know I'm not the only one who had to learn these things. I make a note to ask Tony later.
Conversation bounces back and forth with a surprising amount of ease, covering a wide range of topics. Things I can participate in, like the Ohio game Tony and I watched last week. Not quite the fan Tony is, but I didn't mind watching it with him, cheering on his Alma Mater. And things I know nothing about like the new job with the park service Carol is considering. Even when they slip in and out of English I know it's not because they are talking about me. They just don't even realize they are doing it and stop as soon as they see just how lost I am.
I expected to be interrogated, or put on the spot, but that didn't happen. This was---normal, for lack of a better word. Like sitting down and eating with friends I've known for a long time, rather than several people I'd only just met. Maybe Mike told them everything he found out when he so nicely grilled me during my first visit, or maybe they all spoke to Tony.
Either way, I'm not the center of attention, but just one more at the table. And I'm grateful for that. Not sure I could handle it if they focused on just me and still be civilized. Don't want to be a bastard to these people. Wanted the chance to make a good impression, and I've got it.
I feel Tony put his hand on my thigh. I put my hand over his and smile. He told me I didn't need to worry. Looks like he was right.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs meets most of Mike's family, and it's not as bad as he feared. :-)