My Home From Home (ManxMan)

Chapter 20

Thomas stared at the doorway to the kitchen, waiting for Henry to come down for dinner; a part of him hoped he would, despite their altercation earlier that day, but he was well aware that it was wishful thinking. He sighed disappointedly as he glanced around to see little Alfie playing with his teething ring while Danny was sat at the table with his elbows on the table, staring out into space. Henry had only been around for nearly a month, but in that time he'd managed to become a real part of their lives; he'd even go far enough to say a part of their family. Perhaps what hurt most was knowing that he jeopardised that all through his own doing. 

"Daddy, is Henwy coming?" Danny asked curiously, his big blue eyes staring up at his father and expecting an answer. Thomas groaned quietly to himself; he didn't know what to tell Danny mostly because it was almost entirely his fault.

"Henry might not be joining us, kiddo. But how about I take a plate up to him. Sounds like a good idea, eh bud?" Thomas asked, ruffling the boy's hair as he watched him smile brightly and nod in approval.

    Thomas took the plate set out where Henry usually sat and ladled in a healthy helping of  beef and potatoes before taking it upstairs to Henry's room; he was aware there was a high likelihood Henry wasn't going to eat it, but the last thing he wanted was Henry to go to bed hungry. He stood before Henry's bedroom door and took a deep breath, taking one hand under the plate so his other was free and he knocked on the door but was met with silence.

"Henry?" Thomas called out thought the door, but with no response. "Henry, I-I know I'm not your favourite person at the moment... But... I am sorry. I shouldn't've breached your privacy like that. I was wrong of me to do so. I know you're cross with me and you've every right to be."

    Henry's head rose from his knees as he sat curled up against the door with his clothes from work still on; he'd been sitting there for ages since his argument with Thomas and he couldn't be bothered to change. He felt so hurt, so betrayed, and a part of him terrified of the future to come.

"Henry?" Thomas tried again with no avail. "Can you open the door, please?"

"No..." Henry said softly, though it was enough to hear across the door. Thomas shut his eyes and simply sighed defeatedly.

"I understand." Thomas nodded understandingly, he wouldn't forgive himself either. "I brought you supper..."

"I'm not hungry." Dismissed Henry tersely, praying the man would leave him be.

"I understand." Thomas pursed his lips disappointedly as an idea popped into his head. "It's just that... It was Danny's idea, I'm sure he'd be gutted if you sent it back..." Thomas lied, though he figured if Henry would eat it would be worth the little white lie.

    Henry's head perked up once again as Thomas' words crossed his ears, his eyes darting around the room in thought; his quarrel wasn't with Danny, but with Thomas. It'd be terribly unfair for poor Danny to be caught in the crossfire when he was merely an innocent third party in the matter.

"Alright, well. I'm going to leave the plate here, and go..." Thomas said through the door, once again to no response. He quietly left the plate there and took exaggerated steps towards the stairwell so Henry would think he'd gone; but little did Henry know Thomas was hidding behind the corner peeking out to see if the raven haired lad would indeed take it. And take it he did; Thomas watched with a heavy heart as Henry creak the door open and took the plate into his room, feeling a pang in his chest at the clear puffiness under his eyes from crying. Tears for which Thomas was solely responsible...

    The next morning, Henry picked himself up, dusted himself off, and carried on about his day; he gave himself ample time to wallow in his anger and misery but  now it was time for him to push all his emotions to the back and do his duties as the town's general practitioner. The only issue was that he was meant to take a house call for a family who loved in a small farming hamlet called Milbury about an hour due north of Fir Creek by horse; originally, Thomas had offered to take him there, and therein lied the problem; because the very concept of being stuck in a carriage with Thomas for two hours did his head in.