Chapter Text
Life was normal.
As normal as life ever got in the Dalton family.
That normal included movie marathons, cooking disasters, terrible puns, heartfelt promises, scientific exploration and quiet, still moments when someone, or sometimes two someones, were scared, doubtful or weary and needed calm and closeness.
When Nana Bea’s birthday had been coming up Mac had decided to make her a sundial to go into the garden she loved to tend – she’d told him being among growing things made time move differently, naturally, without jerking second hands or blinking digital numbers - so he’d made her something that used nature to show the hours sliding by. He’d looked for quotes he could engrave the sundial with and found a few he liked, ‘the shadow by my finger cast, divides the future from the past’ was one, but his favourite had been ‘light and shadows by turns but always love’. It had felt appropriate to give that to his nana, the matriarch of the family he’d been brought into by the dad who was the source of the love in his life during all the bright and dark times.
“Nice, kiddo,” Jack had said, peering at the engraving Mac was hunched over in his basement lab carving. “Your nana will love it. Course, if you wanted to make her a sundial you could have just got an old-fashioned rotary phone and stuck a popsicle stick in the middle of the numbers, that would have worked just as well.”
Mac had stopped carving. He’d leaned back to scowl up at his dad. “A rotary phone?” he’d asked.
“Yeah, cause it’s a sundial! A sundial! Dial! Like dialling on a phone, get it?”
Mac had stared at his dad, mouth open, wondering if that was the worst pun his dad had ever come out with.
“Dialling,” Jack had said again, weakly. He’d watched Mac’s bewildered face for a moment then cleared his throat and smoothed his hands down the front of his t shirt. “Obviously my jokes are just too Cerebro for this crowd.”
“Your jokes are too Cerebro? Like Professor X’s from the X Men’s computer Cerebro? Or are they too cerebral?”
“Either. Both. Neither. You pick.” Jack had harrumphed, spun on his heal, said, “I’ll leave you to your thoughts then,” and, nose tipped up to the ceiling in a play of offended dignity, headed towards the basement stairs.
“Love you,” Mac had called in a sing song voice after him.
“You love my puns too.”
“Well…”
“You know you do; you just don’t want to admit it.” Jack had paused with one foot on the bottom step. “I love you too,” he called back.
So. Normal.
Then Mac made a discovery underneath the stairs leading up to the stable’s hayloft.
“Jack,” he called. “Umm, Jaaaack, you need to come and see this!”
“What?” Jack appeared, concerned and a little flustered. “What’s up? Are you okay? Did Pepper escape?”
“I’m fine, Pepper’s fine. It’s just…something’s happened over here.”
“Somethings happened? Something good? Have you finally figured out how to spin straw into gold?”
“Can I do what with straw?” Mac said to his dad’s question without looking away from the small shapes moving underneath the stable’s stairs.
“Weave it into gold,” Jack stood behind Mac grinning at the absurdity of his own words, like since he was sure Mac was okay he couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease his son a little, “same as in the story about the funny little man with the weird name. We have a lot of straw and gold would be useful.”
“No, I haven’t been doing that.” Mac decided to leave questions about straw, weaving and gold until another time. “Look.” He pointed to the space underneath the stairs. A horse blankets had been dragged there and curled up in the rumpled tartan was a slender grey cat and five wiggling, fur covered little shapes. “I think Herschel’s found a girlfriend. And I think she’s just had babies.”
Jack peeked into the darkened corner. Soft, high-pitched mewing drifted out from the tiny grey, white and black furred baby cats that were pressed up against their mother’s side, climbing over her and each other with clumsy waddles.
“Yep,” Jack said, “those wigglers are brand new and freshly cooked – look, their eyes are closed and their ears are still folded up, see?” He dropped a hand onto Mac’s shoulder, “Son, we have kittens.”
“Kittens?” That was completely unexpected, potentially inconvenient and very exciting. A thrilled rush tingled through Mac. Kittens! “Do we need to leave them alone?” he asked, watching the furry babies curiously. “They say that mother birds can reject their chicks if people handle them, is it the same with cats?”
“That’s up to the momma,” Jack said. “How close we get to them depends on how she feels about us.” He stepped closer to the stairwell and dropped to a crouch, crooning in a low voice to the momma cat curled up in her borrowed bed, “What do you say, are you going to let us see your babies?” He eased forward and slowly reached out a hand towards the grey cat, holding it steady for her to study. The momma cat sniffed once at Jack’s hand then stretched her neck out to sniff it again a little closer. Jack moved his hand until his fingers were in the ruff of fur at the grey cat’s neck and started to scratch. The cat closed her eyes with pleasure.
“Good girl,” Jack murmured. “Five little one’s hmmm? That’s a cute little family you’ve got there.” He smiled as one of the kittens wriggling it’s way across it’s nest became stuck in a fold in the blanket. It floundered, toppled over sideways then wailed, it’s tiny face screwed up in frustration. “You’re going to be busy.”
The momma cat rescued her trapped baby by picking it up by the scruff of the neck. When it was free from the blanket she put it down between her front paws and started to clean it with swift strokes of her tongue. While she was doing that her four other babies burrowed into her side wailing for food, attention and comfort.
Jack was right. She was going to be busy. “Should I get the mother some food and water?” Mac asked.
“That’s a good idea, buddy,” Jack said. “She’s had a heck of a morning and she’s probably ready for some refreshments.”
As Mac went to fetch a bowl of water and some of the dried food they had for Herschel the new father came padding down the hayloft stairs completely unconcerned with the complication he’d just caused.
“Herschel, you hound!” Mac heard Jack call, amusement under his mock anger. “And I thought your days were filled with chasing mice and lounging around! How did you find time to get yourself a girlfriend?”
Herschel ignored Jack. Or at least pretended to. Mac thought he had a particularly smug twitch to his tail as he trotted over to Crosby’s stall.
The momma cat’s fur was silvery grey and now that she was moving around Mac could see she had a white flash on her chest. The big amber eyes she’d been watching her babies with were clear and healthy and she didn’t seem to have a fear of people.
“Where do you think she’s come from?” Mac asked as he put the bowls he’d filled beside the mother cat. She sniffed at the food then started to eat. “Maybe she has a home somewhere and people who miss her.”
“I don’t know, she isn’t wearing a collar,” Jack said, rubbing the new mother between her ears. “I’ll ask my buddy who’s a vet to come and have a look at her and the kittens. If she’ has a chip we can contact her owners.” Jack tipped his head to the side, studying the cat currently purring under his gentle attention, “You know, I think I’ve seen her on the drive here a couple of times but I didn’t think much about it, I just figured that she was someone’s house cat that had gone prowling, I had no idea she’d been keeping company with our Herschel.”
“Maybe if we find her owner they’ll want some of her kittens.” Mac crouched down beside Jack and reached out slowly to run the tip of a careful finger along one of the kitten’s backs, it’s fur was warm, soft and delightfully oh so new.
“Maybe. We can’t keep them, there are enough four legged crazies here as it is, and the stable doesn’t have enough mice nibbling on our oats to feed this whole family.” Jack scratched at the stubble on his chin. “It’s probably best that we don’t name them. Once you name something you get all attached and it makes letting it go hard. Besides, the owners we find for the kittens will want to pick names for them themselves.”
Mac nodded, that made sense.
So, he wouldn’t name them. As cute as the kittens were they weren’t going to be his.
And they were cute. Mac had never been near such young animals before. They were perfect and helpless and they could have fitted in the palm of his hand.
Jack noticed him watching the kittens sniffing at the world they had just arrived in. “Do you want to hold one, bud?”
“Could I?” Mac looked down at the tiny, mewing bundles of fur, “I mean, will it be okay with the mom?”
“I don’t think she’ll mind. I think she feels safe here with us.” Jack carefully scooped one of the kittens up and placed it in Mac’s hands. “Here.”
The tabby striped baby mewed as it shakily tried to crawl across Mac’s hand, looking too small and delicate to be real, it’s rapid heartbeat thrummed against Mac’s palm and its soft fur tickled his fingers. His own heart gave a thrilled twist. “Welcome to the world, little guy,” he said, softly stroking the kitten. He was holding a brand-new life. One that was tiny, vulnerable and pure. It was remarkable, like being allowed to be near something wild and beautiful.
“There’s no feeling like it is there?” Jack said at the look of wonder in Mac’s eyes. “Having a new baby in your arms is like nothing else.”
Mac met Jack’s affectionate look with one of his own. Whenever he started to wonder if life with Jack would stop giving him ways to do, see and feel new things an event would happen - like the surprise arrival of furry babies - and Mac would find himself learning something he hadn’t known he hadn’t known.
“My momma is going to love this,” Jack said.
The first time Mac met Jack’s mom she’d grabbed hold of him and hugged him so hard he’d felt something in his back pop. She’d been everything Mac had expected her to be and a delightful surprise at the same time.
Her plane had been due to arrive late in the morning for that first visit and Jack had driven to pick her up while Mac had been at school. Mac had been secretly pleased he hadn’t been able to the airport with his dad. He didn’t know what his nana was going to do or say when they first saw each other in person, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do or how he’d feel either, so he was glad he was going to be on familiar ground when they did.
She was family. His Nana Bea. But they’d never actually met and the idea of meeting someone he was related to but didn’t know was strange.
What were they supposed to say to each other?
Jack loved his mom and Mac suspected that he was supposed to love her too. He’d talked to her on the phone and she was nice - he liked her - but did he love her?
What if he didn’t? Would Jack be mad? What if she didn’t like him? What if she realised he wasn’t as special as Jack said he was? Jack was always saying how smart and special Mac was and Mac let him even though deep down he worried that when Jack looked at him he didn’t see who Mac truly was. What if when Nana Bea met him she could see the truth? What if she thought he was rude, distracted or lazy?
When he got home from school the evening of that first visit he’d opened his front door as slowly and cautiously as he would have done if he’d been checking for mines and booby traps, then listened hard for voices. He’d heard laughter and caught the smell of something delicious cooking coming from the kitchen.
“Jack? I’m home,” he’d called.
“We’re in here.”
Mac had let his backpack slip off his shoulders and drop to the floor as he walked with trepidation towards his dad’s voice. When he’d been within a few feet of the kitchen door a figure with short white hair, a flour covered apron, and a huge smile had burst through it and engulfed him in an enormous hug.
Nana Bea was several inches shorter than Mac, so he’d needed to bend to put his arms around her. Her hold had been strong and all-encompassing, just like Jack’s was, but it had come along with another feeling he hadn’t been able to name. The feeling was something ferocious and maternal, strong and fierce, warm and a little bit intimidating. Mac had felt a little like he was being hugged by a mama bear.
“Oooh, let me look at you!” Nana Bea had cried. She’d held Mac out at arm’s length and had studied him with misty eyes and a soft smile that looked just like Jack’s. “You’re so handsome!” she’d said, patting one of Mac’s cheeks. “You’re even cuter in person than you are in the photos Jack sent me! Come here.” She’d kissed Mac on the cheek then pulled him to her for another hug and Mac had glanced up to where Jack leaning against the doorjamb watching them. He’d sent a pleading look Jack’s way, but his dad had just smiled and reached out to wipe dusky rose lipstick off his cheekbone.
Jack’s mom had insisted on making them dinner, and a banana cream pie, and they’d all sat together eating it at their kitchen table.
“So, Mac, I think you’ll be interested to know that I’ve brought photos,” Nana Bea had said when the meal had ended, dabbing her mouth with a napkin.
Jack’s eyebrows had twitched with alarm. “Now, Ma, you’ve been travelling all day you should rest, and Mac might not want to see old photos of you with your 60’s haircut.”
“Nonsense, I feel fine! Of course Mac here wants to see his family’s photos. And as for my hair,” Nana Bea had patted her white hair where it was tucked behind her ears, “My hair was amazing back then, I looked like a Texan Twiggy.”
“Twiggy?” Jack had asked.
“That’s what your father used to say. He liked my hair. He liked my miniskirts too,” she’d said and winked at Mac.
“Momma!” Jack had cried, outraged.
“I had the legs for them, baby,” Nana Bea had said, smiling to herself as she’d rummaged through the voluminous handbag she’d hung on the back of her chair. “And if you’ve got it you should flaunt it. Why do you think your daddy asked me for a date in the first place?”
“Ugh, please.” Jack had shuddered. “Please don’t talk about stuff like that right after dinner. Or ever again.”
Watching the role reversal of his dad being teased by his parent was almost as satisfying to Mac as Nana’s banana cream pie had been. He’d gotten comfortable in his chair looking forward to whatever stories were about to come from the photos that were about to appear.
“Here we are,” Nana Bea had said and pulled out a thick, age scuffed photograph album from her bag. She’d laid it on the table and opened it to a front page full of old, sepia toned pictures. As they’d looked through the pages Mac had seen photos of Jack’s grandparents, his sister and her children and a whole host of family members who were all introduced as ‘your great uncle Elijah’ and ‘George, your first cousin once removed’.
“That’s your grandpa,” Nana Bea had said, slowly stroking the edge of a photograph of a man wearing a suit and standing in a stiff pose. Jack looked like his dad, they had the same eyes and the same dependable set to their shoulders. Mac had fancied he could see humour and kindness in his grandpa’s face despite his formal stance.
“Doesn’t Jack look like his daddy?” Nana Bea had asked.
“Yeah,” Mac had said. “I’ve heard a lot about him, it’s good to see a picture of him.”
Mac didn’t have any photographs of his parents. He didn’t want any of James, but his mom, it would be nice to have a photo or two of his mom. If he had then maybe when people saw them they’d tell him he looked like her. James had sometimes told him he looked like his mom but he’d always said it with a puckered brow and the threat of disapproval in his jaw. It would be nice for someone to say that he had her eyes with a smile on their face.
Nana Bea had kept smiling at Mac and reaching out to pat his hand during that first visit. She’d looked at him with a glow of pride and affection in her eyes that had been so bright he’d found it a little overwhelming. He hadn’t known how to respond. He’d asked Jack what he should do but all Jack had said was that he should be himself.
“That’s not actually very helpful.”
Jack had shrugged. “She likes you; she’s proud of you.”
“But I haven’t done anything for her to be proud of.”
“You’ve been you.”
“Exactly! And that isn’t…”
“Kiddo, my momma just wants you to be happy. So be you and be happy and that’ll be all she needs.”
Mac had opened his mouth to try to reply but no sound had come out.
“Don’t overthink this one, son.” Jack had reached out and squeezed Mac’s shoulder. “Thinking isn’t what you need to do. Just be, okay?”
“I don’t think I know how to just be.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
“Yeah, but...”
“Mac,” Jack had silenced Mac by grabbing him and kissing his forehead, “my mom doesn’t need anything from you, okay? She doesn’t love you because she’s expecting you’ll repay her somehow. Stop worrying.”
Mac had thought that after that first visit Nana Bea might be a less zealous with her affection during subsequent visits. That wasn’t what happened. When she’d visited them after Jack’s accident she’d hugged Mac the same way she had before - maybe even a little harder – so he was ready for the fierce embraces, embarrassing stories and baking her upcoming visit would bring.
She arrived three days after Mac and Jack had discovered the kittens under the stairs. Mac and Jack had gone to the airport to meet her together and as they made their way to the arrivals lounge they heard her calling to them over the boom and echo of the airport’s background noise.
“There they are!” Both Mac and Jack turned to the familiar, delighted voice to see Nana Bea barrelling towards them with her arms already open. “Large as life and twice as handsome!” she said and flung her arms around Mac, hugging him with the same intensity he would have expected from a particularly maternal grizzly. The young man dressed in the airport employees’ uniform of smart dark trousers, a dark waistcoat and a white shirt who’d been walking alongside Nana Bea set the suitcase he was carrying down, nodded to accept the ‘thank you’ she gave him from under Mac’s arm and melted back into the crowd. “Ooh my boys!” Nana Bea said as she squeezed Mac, then Jack. “I’ve missed you! I want to hear all about what’s been happening in your lives. Tell me everything, I want to hear it all.”
“Ah, you know us,” Jack said, after his mom had released him from her hug. “The usual.”
“Oh, nothing is ever usual with you, honey,” Nana Bea told Jack with a grin and a wink at Mac.
Jack picked up his mother’s suitcase and started leading his son and mother to the terminal’s exit weaving his way through passengers and luggage trollies. “That’s...fair, but where do you think I get that from, hmm?” he teased. “I do have some news actually, the kind I know you’re going to love, we’ve had a close encounter of the furry kind, Herschel, our stable cat-”
“Your Herschel? Herschel the ‘Not A Lap Cat’ Cat you told me all about?” Nana Bea asked, “The cat who was going to earn his keep making sure the stable stores weren’t overrun by critters? The cat who, according to you, was certainly not going to be spoiled or pampered but seems to be lounging on your lap whenever I call you at the stable? That cat?” One of Nana Bea’s eyebrows ticked up in a mocking flicker.
“That’s the one.” Jack ignored his mom’s sarcasm. He must have plotted the path to the terminal’s exit with military precision because he steered his mom and son through the glass automatic doors of the airport and into fresh air in record time. “He’s found a lady friend and the little Herschels they made together arrived at the stable the other day.”
“You’ve got kittens at the stable?” Nana Bea drew an excited breath, her eyes wide. “How many? How old are they? Are they healthy? Where did the mother cat come from? What colour are they? Do you have homes for them? Are you going to keep any?” she didn’t bounce up and down on the spot or clap her hands together – Nana Bea was too much of a refined lady for that kind of giddiness – but she looked like she wanted to. Mac suspected she might have if they weren’t in public.
“There’s five of them, they’re fine, I don’t think we’ll keep any because right now I’m strongly feeling that one furry troublemaker is enough, and I’ve lost track of the rest of your questions, sorry,” Jack said.
“We don’t know where the mother cat came from,” Mac filled in helpfully, “she was just there one morning, they are a mix of grey, white, black and brown and we haven’t got homes for any of them yet.”
Jack switched his mother’s suitcase over from one hand to the other. “How much stuff have you got in here, Ma?” he asked, looking down at his mother’s luggage, “and why don’t you buy yourself one of those suitcases on wheels, I don’t know how you manage this by yourself?”
“That old suitcase has lasted me years so I see no reason to waste money on a brand new one when the one I have works just fine.” Nana Bea said, pretending not to hear Jack’s quietly muttered comments about buying her a wheeled bag for Christmas. “Besides,” she added, “there’s usually a nice young man around to help a mature lady with her cases.”
They reached the GTO and Jack unlocked it and put his mom’s suitcase inside with a flourish.
“If I’d known there were going to be kittens I’d have changed my flight to an earlier one,” Nana Bea said after Jack closed the GTO’s trunk. “My book club met yesterday but I don’t think the girls would have minded me missing one session, not when I explained that there were going to be fluffy babies to snuggle.”
“You’ll change your flight for kittens, but your son and grandson can wait till after you’ve talked to your friends about Gone with the Wind to see you?” Jack teased, opening the passenger side door of the GTO for his mom.
“We’ve been reading Fifty Shades of Grey,” Nana Bea volleyed back at Jack. She smiled radiantly at both her boys. “And I can Space Time with you and Mac whenever I want but you don’t get to hold newborn kittens every day.”
“Space Time?” Jack said to Mac in an undertone.
“I think she means Face Time.” Mac whispered back.
“Oh, okay.” Jack said. Then he tensed uneasily as he finished processing what his mother had just said. “Hold on!” he called. “You’ve been reading Fifty Shades of Grey?”
Nana Bea threw her son a wicked grin. “Just kidding, baby. We’ve been reading Lady Chatterley’s Lover, it’s a classic,” she said and gracefully eased herself into the car.
“It’s a classic.” Jack repeated, his distress melting away. “Then that means it’s probably about people in long dresses and top hats drinking tea and walking on lawns or whatever it is they did for fun in the olden days, doesn’t it? That doesn’t sound too bad.”
Mac didn’t have the heart to correct him.
Nana Bea was delighted with the kittens.
“They’re so precious!”
She’d tucked herself under the stairwell with the mewing babies glowing with delight as if she’d found bliss in a shadowed corner of a hay strewn stable. The mother cat lay on one of the extra blankets Jack had placed in the cosy nest she’d made watching attentively as her babies crawled up to Mac’s nana demanding attention. Nana Bea picked up one of the kittens that was awkwardly attempting to climb over her legs crooning, “Come here, beautiful one, that’s it, aren’t you a pretty baby!”
Mac hid a smile as he watched the refined mature lady who never had to carry her own luggage become someone happy to sit on a dusty floor murmuring sweet nothings at the sight of a furry face.
The kitten cradled in Nana Bea’s hands wiggled and sniffed, arching into her fingers with pleasure as she stroked it. “I miss having animals around the place,” Nana Bea said, “Maybe I should think about getting a cat.”
“You can have one of those,” Jack said, stopping on his way to the office to see how everyone was getting on. “Actually, you can take them all if you want, we’re going to have to find homes for them. I’ve asked Sara from the diner if she wants one but she said Larry is allergic and Diane’s landlord won’t let her have pets.”
“Honey, I would love to take one of these babies but I don’t think a cross-country flight would be good for them,” Nana Bea answered sadly. “Maybe I’ll go and have a look in the rescue centre near me.”
“Yeah, I suppose these little ones are too young to earn their wings.” Jack crouched next to his mom and stroked the kitten in her hands. “It’s a shame, I think you’ve found a friend.”
Outside the stable a car door slammed and Jack glanced down at his watch. He hummed a smile. “Right on time. Buckle up people, things are about to get excitable.”
“Do you have a lesson booked?” Nana Bea asked him.
“Yes, with little Cassie. She hasn’t seen the kittens yet and she’s going to love them.” Jack said, he nodded at Mac. “You might be about to get replaced as her favourite thing in the stable, bud. Brace yourself.” He stood with a soft grunt and walked over to greet his student.
Mac sat down beside his nana and reached over to stroke the mother cat as he waited for Cassie. The grey cat’s purr of contentment vibrated under his fingers.
“She’s a good mom isn’t she?” Nana Bea asked, smiling at the mother cat as she lifted her chin to let Mac scratch at the soft fur there. “And a smart one. She found a good, safe place to have her babies, I don’t think she could have found a better one.”
“She did.” Mac agreed. The babies in question were healthy, happy, warm, well fed and were currently tumbling over each other in a lively pile of small paws and furry playfulness.
“You’re a clever girl,” Nana Bea reached over to pet the mother cat with the hand that wasn’t holding a kitten, “and a lovely mommy.”
“Mac!” Mac looked up and saw Cassie running towards him, the joy in her face looked a lot like the delight Nana Bea was currently basking in. “Kittens!”
“Cassiopeia,” Mac heard Cassie’s mom call. “Wait for me!”
Cassie usually listened to her mother but the call of kittens was too strong to resist and she ran all the way over to the stairwell without pausing or slowing down. “Can I see?” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “Can I hold one?” then remembering her manners added, “Please?”
“You’ll have to ask your mom.” Mac looked over to see Jack and Cassie’s mom Helen following in Cassie’s wake.
Helen nodded, smiling. “Yes you can but you have to be very, very careful,” she told her enchanted daughter, “they’re only babies and they’re very delicate, just like Percy was when he first arrived. Remember how careful we had to be with him?”
“Okay,” Cassie held out her hands, shivering with joy. She beamed as Nana Bea carefully placed the kitten she was holding into her open hands. The little cat filled Cassie’s small palms and when it chirped and sniffed in Cassie’s direction her face lit up like the sun on a bright August morning. Her delight was palpable.
“Mommy?” Cassie looked up at her mother, her eyes huge and beseeching. She didn’t have to say a word, everything about her from the top of her head to the tips of her bright yellow boots was pleading.
Helen sighed.
Jack laughed. “That’s a face it’s going to be difficult to say no to,” he said.
“Cassie, I -” Helen sighed again. “Your father and I had a feeling you’d want a kitten as soon as you saw them so we talked about this last night. You do know we can’t take any of the kittens home yet, they're not old enough to leave their mother.”
Cassie rose up higher on her toes. “But?”
“I don’t see why not,” Helen said, smiling as her daughter’s eyes grew even larger. “It could be nice to have some pets around the place.”
“Pets?” Jack asked, picking up on Helen’s words and snapping to attention like an attentive meerkat. “Pets with a ‘s’? Pet’s plural? You want more than one?”
“Well, two kids, two kittens, it keeps things fair.” Helen looked resigned but pleased.
“Thank you, mommy!”
Mac wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but Cassie glowed a little brighter.