My Home From Home (ManxMan)

Chapter 11

Thomas bent down and opened the oven door with his oven mitt clad hand; pulling the hot ceramic dish out and setting it down on to the stovetop before shutting the oven door with his hip and letting out an exhausted huff as he leant back against the stove. He whipped off the apron from his front and blotted the sweat off his brow with it, glancing up as a smile blossomed across his face to see the precious little four-year-old Danny standing over the pram and poking his six month old baby brother, Alfie's chubby cheeks with his finger.

    Danny and Alfie were Thomas' world; after losing all his living relatives in the war and the Spanish Flu pandemic, the boys were all he had left. He loved them with all his heart and couldn't imagine a world without them. He loved the way Danny's soft blond hair bounced whenever he ran around, he loved the way Alfie would giggle whenever he played peekaboo with him. He loved how Alfie would smile when his little brother would kiss him on the cheek and how Danny would be so protective of his baby brother. They were Thomas' life and he loved them like they were his own.

"Daddy?" Danny turned towards his father, calling out to him softly.

"Yeah, buddy?" Replied Thomas with a loving beam blossoming over his face.

"Is it Sunday?" The little blond toddler asked, his eyes big, innocent, and teeming with curiosity as they always were. 

"No, kiddo. Why'd you ask?" Thomas's eyes twinkled with a perplexed look about them as he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the little lad to reply.

"Then why you make cottage pie?" The tiny toddler inquisitively, earning him a hearty chuckle from his dad.

   Thomas' parents migrated to Canada from England in search of new opportunities and a new life; but inside their homes they still remained very much English. They didn't have much and most of their savings went into paying for their crossing; but no matter what Thomas' mum always made cottage's pie on Sunday after church. Though it wasn't quite the more traditional Sunday Roast, it was all they could afford at the time so like many immigrant families who toiled in a new land, they made do.

Even as the family became settled and money seized to be so much of an issue for them with his dad's secure job at the mine and his mum's tailoring business flourishing, the Wilson's continued to have Shepherd's Pie alongside a nice roast, sides, and Yorkshire puddings. Thomas took over the tradition since he was the only one left to do so, but rather than shepherds pie he opted for a cottage pie since he thought it the best fit for anyone; Alfie was at the age where he could only be fed the mash on top whilst Danny was a picky little lad and utterly loathed the taste of lamb. As for Thomas, he was happy so long as his boys were happy.

"Well you see, bud." Thomas walked over and scooped the little boy up in his arms, kissing him on the soft baby cheek. "Dr Dunmurry is coming to dinner with us and since he's from England like your Nan and Grandad, I reckoned this would be a nice way to welcome him." Thomas started, immediately realising the toddler's mind had wandered; he was quite accustomed to this, Danny's focus like many a two year old wasn't easy to keep his attention for long.

"Who is Dr Dunmurry?" Danny blinked his inquisitive brown eyes up to meet his father's warm gaze.

"You met him earlier today, kiddo. Remember?" Thomas furrowed his brows at the little boy who simply shook his head confusedly in response. Thomas' eyes shifted over towards the little baby in the pram; his eyes bright blue, wide, and alert as can be. A smile crept across his face as he watched the little baby reach his tiny hands out towards him making adorable little baby noises as he did so.

    Thomas smiled wide, his handsome dimples on full display as he set Danny back down and reaching down to pick Alfie up out of his little pram. He tutted as little Alfie began to grow fussy in his arms, his teary blue eyes staring up a into Thomas' eyes as precious baby hands began grasping at the fabric of Thomas' dress shirt. He always did that when he was hungry.