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“The Baron is hosting a party tonight.”
Hamilton’s words caught the attention of Tilghman, who rested his quill in his inkwell.
“Whatever is the occasion?”
“A delayed New Years celebration.”
Tilghman chuckled at this, though confused at the same time. Why on earth would Von Steuben throw a party celebrating the New Year this late into the month?
“It is the 20th.”
“Well observed Tench.”
Tilghman allowed the comment to pass, knowing Hamilton meant no harm.
“The date is not the point. I am extending my invitation to the room. The Lord knows we all need a break from our duties.”
“I accept.” Hamilton smiled at Laurens as he said this, the pair exchanging a nod before Laurens returned to his work.
“While I appreciate your offer Hamilton, I must decline on this occasion. I have far too much work to be getting on with here.” Harrison did not look up from his work.
“I’m afraid I must also decline Ham, for similar reasons to our dear Old Secretary.” Harrison’s jaw clenched slightly at McHenry’s comment, but he made no retort back.
“What say you Tench? Come along, you deserve a night away from this house.” Tilghman chewed his bottom lip in debate. “And from the looks of it, you’re not the only one.” Hamilton pointed a subtle finger in the direction of Meade, who was seated next to Tilghman.
Meade clearly hadn’t caught neither head nor tail of the conversation, as he stared out the window with his head resting in his hand, biting his nails. A rather annoying habit of his.
Tilghman leaned forward in his chair to catch a glimpse of Meade’s face, but his entire body faced away, and his expressions were hidden by the hair hanging in his face.
Tilghman swiftly kicked the leg of Meade’s chair, causing him to jolt and whip his head around to face the room.
“What happened?”
“Party, tonight. Hosted by the Baron. You’re coming with us.”
***
Baron Von Steuben’s party was in full swing by 10pm. The price of admission was, as usual, torn breeches. Or breeches that were not ‘whole’.
Though regretfully, Tilghman had committed to tearing a hole in his oldest pair, as they were much more worn and tattered than his others.
The gathering was neither small nor large, with recognisable faces dotted here and there. The Baron himself came to welcome the quartet to the party, and they were soon left in the company of Benjamin Walker and William North.
The group chatted away, speaking about the war and their private lives. When speaking of the latter, Hamilton mentioned his numerous flirtations with a majority of ladies, and Tilghman butted in to mention their countless visits to local taverns where they met a variety of young ladies who ‘entertained’ them.
Meade quietly slipped off of the table he and Tilghman had perched on, setting down his half-drunk mug of beer and murmuring something about ‘needing some air.’ Nobody paid much attention as he wandered outside into the chilled night.
The party continued for some time until Tilghman realised Meade had not returned. Laurens and Hamilton started making their way back to headquarters. Though, it was more Hamilton stumbled his way and Laurens chaperoned to make sure he didn’t fall.
However, Tilghman hung back and quickly circled the local area in search of his companion. His companion, who was nowhere to be found.
“Perhaps he retired early.”
Tilghman made his way back to headquarters, checking each room in the house before entering the bedroom he and Meade shared with Harrison and McHenry.
Yet, only Harrison and McHenry were present.
Tilghman sat at the edge of his cot, running a hand through his hair in a strained effort to think, tapping his foot in the process.
“Tilghman, whatever is the matter?”
Tench startled at the sound of Harrison’s voice, but soon settled when he came to his senses. “Sorry I woke you.”
“No matter. What’s got you in a huff?”
Tilghman let out a shaky breath “I can’t find Kidder.”
“What do you mean you can’t find him?”
“I mean as I say. At the party, he said something about needing some air, and he never came back.”
“I see. You searched the entire house for him?”
Tilghman simply nodded in the darkness, before squeaking out a noise of confirmation when he remembered Harrison could not see him.
“Try the stables. Perhaps he sought out a job there to occupy his time.”
“Yes. Thank you.” Tilghman’s speech was almost robotic as he rose to leave the room once again.
He padded softly downstairs, opening and closing the doors slowly with a quiet click, to avoid disturbing the rest of the house.
Tilghman trudged through the snow to the stables, immediately feeling at even more of a loss when there was no man in sight.
A rustle in the trees behind the stable caused Tilghman to freeze, eyes blown wide.
“Meade? That you?” Tilghman’s voice was halfway between a shout and a whisper. Some commotion could be heard in the darkness, movement mixed with a few grunts- either of displeasure or confusion Tilghman could not tell.
Tilghman stood, defenseless, as a figure shambled towards him in an unnatural fashion.
Meade’s face came into view, and Tilghman breathed out a sigh of relief, before drawing it back in again hesitantly when he noticed his friends’ dopey expression.
“Heyy Tench…” Kidder slurred as he threw his arm weightily over Tench’s shoulder, causing the latter to jump at the heavy contact. Tench eyes Meade suspiciously, feeling uneasy at the amount of Kidder’s body weight he felt on his shoulders- unusual, considering the usual light contact the two shared.
Meade started to giggle, low and breathless, before saying “Come. Sit.. wimme.”
Meade more or less used his body weight to force Tench to move with him to sit by a tree. As they sat, both rather heavily, Tench felt his right hand knock against glass. In the darkness, he fumbled around and his hands landed on a bottle containing a liquid. Tench lifted it to his nose, immediately off put by the strong smell of whiskey. And judging by the weight of the bottle, there wasn’t very much left either.
“Where did you get this?”
Tilghman waited patiently for a response, but all he received was Meade crawling across his lap making grabby hands at the bottle like a toddler.
“No. You’ve already had far too much my friend.”
At this, Meade sat up and, not two seconds later, burst into floods of tears. Without asking, Meade buried his head in Tilghman’s shoulder, who in return awkwardly patted his head. For what seemed like hours, Meade sobbed, rather loudly, into his shoulder, so much so that Tilghman could feel his tears soaking through his shirt.
“I.. loved her.”
“What? Who do you speak of?” Meade rarely spoke of his life before the war, with Tench’s only knowledge being that Meade hailed from Virginia.
“Elizabeth.”
“Who was she?”
Meade twisted his head so that it rested comfortably on Tilghman’s shoulder.
“My wife.”
“You never mentioned you were married, Kidder-”
“She passed today. 5 years ago.”
Meade’s voice was quiet, so quiet that Tilghman could barely hear him.
“Meade, I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”
Meade sniffed hard, and despite Tilghman offering up a handkerchief, Meade wiped his eyes and nose with his sleeve.
“It’s not fair, Tench. Why should I live when she can’t? Why should I be allowed to enjoy life when neither she nor our children were given the chance. I am undeserving of this life.”
“Stop. Don’t you dare to even think you are undeserving of your life. You are deserving of everything and more my friend. Think of what you have accomplished. Look at where you are now.”
“But-”
“No, I will not hear of this. She would want you to be happy, to enjoy life. Life is for living, you should not waste it. It is a gift you cannot throw away. Promise me that.”
Meade nods once, sharply, against Tilghman’s shoulder.
“Good. Now come, let’s get you into bed.”
Tilghman stood up, and slowly pulled Meade to his feet, quickly throwing Meade’s arm over his shoulder as a support, and they made their way back to headquarters, the pair of them trying to stay upright for different reasons. Tilghman left the whiskey behind.
After all, they wouldn’t be needing it anymore.