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Eric swerved around Morgan to set the plates down while she fussed over how smooth the table cloth was. They had been tasked with setting up the table, while entertaining a babbling toddler who tried very hard to help.
Cory and Topanga were busy in the kitchen in a production line with Allen and Amy so Eric took up his uncle duties to keep the Riley’s attention as best as he could while keeping the cutlery clean.
“Hey Little Prangers, can you help with folding the napkins? I bet you will do better than auntie Morgan.” He gave the child a mischievous smirk while Morgan whipped around, offended.
“I’m so much better than an actual child!”
Eric tilted his head. “Well, you better prove me wrong then.”
That was how he kept the girl’s distracted as he finished the table. He wasn’t really in the mood for Morgan’s regular banter.
It was Christmas Day 2003, and Eric had not seen Jack since the day he left for the peace corps.
Three Christmases without his best friend and it really took its toll on him. He tried to not be too sour about it. Jack was out there doing good work, so Eric told himself that he shouldn’t sulk because he got left behind. He should be happy for his friend, and he was, he really, really was, he was proud of Jack. So he needed to stop wallowing about it.
Even if he thought there was something more between them. Even if Jack’s “love you man”s were said with increasingly softer eyes. Even if their goodbye hug was tighter and longer than it had any reason to be.
He only knew Jack was still alive because Rachel would call every few months with updates.
“We've barely started and Jack’s already a workaholic. Not that surprising.”
“He would say happy birthday but they keep calling him out to work so happy birthday from Jack.”
“He’s passed out and honestly, I’m about to as well.”
Eric tried to not read too much into it, but it seemed like there were endless reasons Jack couldn’t come to the phone. But he was busy, so Eric told himself that he shouldn't expect too much from him.
It didn’t stop his chest from aching though, or his mood from becoming sour at unpredictable times. At least Rachel would send photos of the two of them on the field or during their breaks. Eric kept those photos in his wallet.
”Uncle Eric! Look, look!” Riley presented her masterpiece of crumpled cloth to him with pride, which broke him out of his thoughts. Morgan showed off her delicate swan with a triumphant grin.
Eric shook himself, smiled, then knelt down, making a show of analysing Riley's work.
“Wow! What a great representation of the human brain. Clearly Riley wins this one.”
His niece’s blinding smile was worth Morgan’s ire.
Shawn showed up not long after, Mr Feeny and Lila in tow. A couple more friends and family came with presents and bottles of wine, and Eric greeted them all with his regular charm. He just hoped that none of them could tell how much he was disassociating.
The turkey was almost down to the carcass when Alan asked Shawn, “Have you heard from Jack bud?”
Amy and Cory snapped their heads towards him incredulously. It took him a moment, then he remembered himself, and glanced at his eldest son guiltily. “If that’s ok?”
Eric just sipped his drink while not looking at anyone. If anyone else noticed the shift in demeanour, they didn’t want to bring it up, and only looked between the family confused.
“Not really.” Shawn spoke up nonchalantly. “Rachel usually updates me but she didn’t answer when I called. They must be busy.”
That made Eric look up. In the years since they departed, Rachel had only missed a planned call once, because she had actually passed out. Eric pushed his alarm aside since Shawn seemed calm about it, but his leg had begun bouncing in place. If he was distracted before, he was deaf to the world after that, he nearly missed Feeny’s increasingly concerned request for the gravy.
Everyone finished dessert, and Josh and Riley made everyone watch ‘Home Alone’, so Eric chose that time to make a call. Luckily, she picked up.
“Merry Christmas Eric!”
He was beyond relieved to hear her voice after he spent the whole meal thinking of a dozen scenarios that could have happened to her. At last she was alive.
“Merry Christmas Rach.”
”How is everyone?”
“Good. Riley is a little chatterbox as always.” He found that he couldn’t actually remember much of that day.
“Of course she is.” Rachel cooed.
Eric opened and closed his mouth, he tried to get out the question that had Ben plaguing him the whole day. Eventually he sighed, annoyed at himself.
“How’s Jack?”
The line went quiet. Unnervingly quiet.
”You still there Rachel?”
”Yeah! Yeah, just…. Haven’t seen him in…a while.” She kept pausing like she had to think about her next words. Eric’s heart picked up, a confused panic threatened to overtake him.
“What? Do you know where he is?”
“Oh, he’ll show up. He always does.”
Eric couldn’t help the bitter thought, “To you he does” but voicing that would be unfair to her, so he willed himself into believing her assurances.
They talked for a bit, summarised their respective winters, when Amy started calling him over to join the family, with the promise that he could choose the next movie. He gave that privilege to Mr Feeny after he hung up.
‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ played on the tv as the kids fiddled with their new toys and Alan dozed off in his chair.
Eric was ready to call it a night, though he found himself paused in the hallway on the way to his old room, and just stared out the window.
“Anything interesting out there Mr Mathews?” George Feeny appeared behind his shoulder, two mugs in his hands. Eric jumped at his voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine Feeny. I’m just tired. It’s been a big day.” Eric tried to smile, but his face muscles were exhausted. George just nodded.
“It has been. A time of family and being with those you love.” He handed the younger man a cup of hot chocolate. Eric gave him an appreciative but bittersweet smile. “But not everyone is here, are they?” Feeny knew the answer, but Eric appreciated that someone was finally saying it out loud instead of tip toeing around the subject.
“Am I that obvious?” Eric chuckled weakly as he took a sip of his drink. George observed him thoughtfully.
“You always were. That’s why I knew Mr Hunter was good for you.”
Eric looked down at his cup, and a hiccup escaped him as he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt a hand pull him into the mentor’s side and hold him there, and Eric buried his head into his shoulder.
“Why am I like this?” Eric’s voice cracked, tears trickled down his cheeks.
“I often wonder that myself.” Feeny spoke, which made Eric laugh unexpectedly. “But loss is a difficult thing, even if temporary.”
“That’s the thing!” Eric stood fully, and rubbed his face. “It’s not like he’s dead. He’s out there doing good work, trying to make the world a better place and I can’t do anything to change that so I shouldn’t go around crying about it.” He rambled with a watery voice, droplets flying out of his cup.
Feeny placed a steady hand on his arm and fixed him with a firm but sympathetic expression.
“Could you answer a question for me please?” The young man could only nod. “Do you think that if you had asked Mr Hunter to stay three years ago, that he would have?”
Eric was at a loss for words. Not for lack of an answer. In fact, he had three.
No, of course not. Jack was passionate about the opportunity and he wouldn't let some weirdo roommate hold him back.
Probably. If only to keep Eric out of trouble, and basically act as a babysitter.
But deep, deep down, Eric knew the answer. That if he stopped Jack at the door, he wouldn’t have put up a fight.
“I couldn’t have asked him, I’m already selfish enough.” He shook his head. George sighed.
“Having wants, desires… and love is not selfish. Taking without regard for others is selfish. And it seems that you have had Mr Hunter's best interests as a priority this whole time. Even to your own detriment.”
“Thanks Feeny.” Eric sniffed. “But there’s nothing I could have said that would’ve changed anything.”
“Is that so?” It was a very simple question, but Eric had run out of answers to convince either of them, so he just shrugged, completely exhausted.
Then Feeny peered over Eric’s shoulder out the window. “Where we expecting anymore guests today?”
Eric furrowed his brows and followed Feeny’s line of sight. A taxi, only visible under the street lights, pulled up outside of the house and a figure bundled up in bulky coats and hats stepped out and nodded to the driver who drove away.
As Eric stepped towards the frosted glass, he started to make out more distinct features on the newcomer’s face the closer they got to the house, with a hefty bag hung on their hand. He froze where he stood, unable to believe his eyes. He glanced back to see Mr Feeny smiling warmly.
“Happy Christmas Mr Matthews.” He spoke softly.
Eric turned back to the window in disbelief, then took off to the door, his cup left in a haste on a cabinet. He could have snapped the hinges off with the force he threw the door open with.
Jack stood only a few feet away from him, heavy breath visible in the cold with red cheeks. When Eric came into view, Jack’s face broke out into a glowing, hopeful smile.
“Hey Eric.”
Eric paused for two seconds before he ran and slammed into Jack, almost knocking them both to the ground. Jack immediately dropped his bag to wrap his arms around the other tightly.
Feeny stood at the door and chuckled at the two boys. He whispered to no one in particular, “Happy Christmas indeed.”