The trip to Rhy'Din had gone as well as Des could have hoped. He'd met most of his family members, and though he still felt like an outsider, he knew it would take time for them to accept him and for him to feel like one of the family, if he ever did. If it wasn't for his responsibilities back home, he might have stayed longer, but people were counting on him, and he couldn't let them down. It seemed there were people counting on him here, too, but only time would tell where things were going and whether anything would come of it. Christmas had been a mostly quiet event, with much of the family nursing the hangover acquired the night before. As for Des, he'd spent a good part of the day in quiet contemplation, exploring Maple Grove on his own and pouring over family albums. It seemed everyone either had their own plans for the day or had purposely left him on his own to sort out his head. Either way, he found himself at the dinner table with only Humphrey for company and an uncomfortable silence settling between them.
Despite his best efforts to convince his cook otherwise, Humphrey had been presented with a sit-down meal for Christmas Day, deeply grateful to Des for eating with him, even if it had been mostly in silence thus far. Jon and Vicki were closeted in their rooms, understandably so, and would no doubt emerge for the evening, but their Christmas was their own, and he wouldn't dream of interfering. As to others who had stayed the night ....breakfast had been an hilariously hungover affair, but one by one, two by two, they had slipped away to celebrate the day in their own company. The Old Man cleared his throat, finally lifting his spoon from the bowl in front of him, loaded with pudding and cream. "Very quiet, Desmond."
It was true - Desmond had remained mostly quiet throughout the meal, answering Humphrey's remarks with a single word or two in response to indicate he'd heard, but wasn't really paying much attention, his mind seemingly a million miles away, or maybe just a few miles away in the Temple District. "Hmm?" he asked, as he lifted his head from the quiet contemplation of his pudding, which he was stirring endlessly with a spoon.
Brown eyes twinkled over the spoon for a moment before Humphrey shovelled the mouthful in, taking his time in chewing before swallowing and speaking again. He wasn't blind; he knew Des had taken Piper and Lyneth home the night before, and he also knew Des had not come back to the Grove until after midnight. But he wasn't so crude as to jump to the first conclusion, no matter how likely it might have seemed. "I was commenting on your quietness," he repeated himself with a faint smirk. "Should I assume you to be tired, ready to leave, or reluctant to go back to New York?"
Desmond furrowed his brows as he quietly considered Humphrey's question. It was a question he'd been trying to sort out all day on his own. He wasn't accustomed to feeling this way - conflicted, confused, uncertain. He was used to setting clear cut goals and doing whatever was necessary to reach those goals. Meeting Piper had been completely unexpected - everything that had happened in Rhy'Din had been completely unexpected - and he wasn't yet sure what to make of it. "I'm not sure," he replied, as honest as he could be, still contemplating his pudding with a stir of his spoon.
Humphrey watched him a moment later, as though expecting something further only to be disappointed. His thick brows rose and fell, shoulders shifting in a shrug as he grunted and went back to his pudding. He felt on thin ice around Des; not a feeling he was used to in the presence of his family. Belatedly, he wondered if he should have invited a few others to dinner today, and a slightly mischievous thought suggested that Lyneth and Piper would have been good company.
Desmond wasn't much of an open book around anyone, except maybe Miranda who was either astute enough to read him or persistent enough to keep at him until he cracked open. The truth was that Humphrey was the closest thing that had ever come to a father figure in his life, and Des wasn't quite sure what to think of that either. "It's just....coming here....I thought I knew who I was, what I wanted in life. And now, I'm not so sure."
There was a pause as Humphrey wiped his lips clean, setting his spoon down in the bowl before him, and reached for his wine. "You still know who you are," he assured the younger man, confident that this was the case. "As to what you want from life; that changes for everyone with every era of their life that passes them by. Take Jon, for example; five years ago, what he wanted was to be a famous, Oscar-winning actor, with all the trimmings. Now, all he truly wants is to be a good husband and father, and if his career stays on track, that is a bonus. Or take a look at me; when I was your age, I wanted to be one woman's husband, and I went out of my way to make the man who married her miserable. A few years later, my first boy was born, and suddenly all I wanted was to take back everything I had said and done. And now all I want is for my family, all of you, to be well and safe, and happy if you can manage it." He smiled faintly, setting his glass down after taking a sip. "Or young Piper ....three years ago, she wanted to study Art History or some such degree and just have fun. I couldn't say what it is she wants now, but I very much doubt her wishes come before those of her daughter. Do you?"
Desmond lifted his head from the contemplation of his pudding to look over at the elderly gentleman, who even Des had to admit possessed far more worldly wisdom than he did, no matter how mature he liked to think himself. He knew what his uncle was saying was true, and yet, it was unsettling to know that everything he wanted, everything he'd striven for might have changed in a single night's unexpected encounter. He frowned thoughtfully in reply to the question, wondering if Humphrey was baiting him or just trying to make a point. "No, Lyneth is her life now. She's more precious to her than anything or anyone." He understood that. That wasn't the problem.
Humphrey's head lowered, looking over at Des from that disconcerting angle, leaving the floor open if he wished to continue on. The very fact that Des had not even commented on his mention of Jon, or himself, but had focused upon Piper ....well, that was very interesting. Very interesting, indeed. But it wasn't something Humphrey was going to pry into, unless one or both of them wished to talk about it with him.
The fact was that Desmond had always known who he was and what he wanted. He'd always thought he was different from most people in that way - driven, sure of his choices and his goals. Why had all of that suddenly seemed to have changed" "It's never going to work," he found himself admitting to the old man, though he hadn't pried further. If Desmond didn't talk to him, Miranda would eventually pry it out of him anyway. "Her life is here. My life is there. She has a daughter. She has all of you. What am I supposed to do' I can't ask her to give up her life here and move there."
"That's remarkably fatalistic for such a successful young man such as yourself," Humphrey commented mildly, folding his hands in his lap as he leaned back in his chair. "So you have decided out of hand that there is no hope, no chance, and no future, have you? Odd, then, that you should be so reluctant to leave, if there is nothing here for you." He eyed Des sharply. "Or are you letting some foolish fear of living get in the way of your actually trying to give your life outside the work you do so well meaning?"
Despite his best efforts to convince his cook otherwise, Humphrey had been presented with a sit-down meal for Christmas Day, deeply grateful to Des for eating with him, even if it had been mostly in silence thus far. Jon and Vicki were closeted in their rooms, understandably so, and would no doubt emerge for the evening, but their Christmas was their own, and he wouldn't dream of interfering. As to others who had stayed the night ....breakfast had been an hilariously hungover affair, but one by one, two by two, they had slipped away to celebrate the day in their own company. The Old Man cleared his throat, finally lifting his spoon from the bowl in front of him, loaded with pudding and cream. "Very quiet, Desmond."
It was true - Desmond had remained mostly quiet throughout the meal, answering Humphrey's remarks with a single word or two in response to indicate he'd heard, but wasn't really paying much attention, his mind seemingly a million miles away, or maybe just a few miles away in the Temple District. "Hmm?" he asked, as he lifted his head from the quiet contemplation of his pudding, which he was stirring endlessly with a spoon.
Brown eyes twinkled over the spoon for a moment before Humphrey shovelled the mouthful in, taking his time in chewing before swallowing and speaking again. He wasn't blind; he knew Des had taken Piper and Lyneth home the night before, and he also knew Des had not come back to the Grove until after midnight. But he wasn't so crude as to jump to the first conclusion, no matter how likely it might have seemed. "I was commenting on your quietness," he repeated himself with a faint smirk. "Should I assume you to be tired, ready to leave, or reluctant to go back to New York?"
Desmond furrowed his brows as he quietly considered Humphrey's question. It was a question he'd been trying to sort out all day on his own. He wasn't accustomed to feeling this way - conflicted, confused, uncertain. He was used to setting clear cut goals and doing whatever was necessary to reach those goals. Meeting Piper had been completely unexpected - everything that had happened in Rhy'Din had been completely unexpected - and he wasn't yet sure what to make of it. "I'm not sure," he replied, as honest as he could be, still contemplating his pudding with a stir of his spoon.
Humphrey watched him a moment later, as though expecting something further only to be disappointed. His thick brows rose and fell, shoulders shifting in a shrug as he grunted and went back to his pudding. He felt on thin ice around Des; not a feeling he was used to in the presence of his family. Belatedly, he wondered if he should have invited a few others to dinner today, and a slightly mischievous thought suggested that Lyneth and Piper would have been good company.
Desmond wasn't much of an open book around anyone, except maybe Miranda who was either astute enough to read him or persistent enough to keep at him until he cracked open. The truth was that Humphrey was the closest thing that had ever come to a father figure in his life, and Des wasn't quite sure what to think of that either. "It's just....coming here....I thought I knew who I was, what I wanted in life. And now, I'm not so sure."
There was a pause as Humphrey wiped his lips clean, setting his spoon down in the bowl before him, and reached for his wine. "You still know who you are," he assured the younger man, confident that this was the case. "As to what you want from life; that changes for everyone with every era of their life that passes them by. Take Jon, for example; five years ago, what he wanted was to be a famous, Oscar-winning actor, with all the trimmings. Now, all he truly wants is to be a good husband and father, and if his career stays on track, that is a bonus. Or take a look at me; when I was your age, I wanted to be one woman's husband, and I went out of my way to make the man who married her miserable. A few years later, my first boy was born, and suddenly all I wanted was to take back everything I had said and done. And now all I want is for my family, all of you, to be well and safe, and happy if you can manage it." He smiled faintly, setting his glass down after taking a sip. "Or young Piper ....three years ago, she wanted to study Art History or some such degree and just have fun. I couldn't say what it is she wants now, but I very much doubt her wishes come before those of her daughter. Do you?"
Desmond lifted his head from the contemplation of his pudding to look over at the elderly gentleman, who even Des had to admit possessed far more worldly wisdom than he did, no matter how mature he liked to think himself. He knew what his uncle was saying was true, and yet, it was unsettling to know that everything he wanted, everything he'd striven for might have changed in a single night's unexpected encounter. He frowned thoughtfully in reply to the question, wondering if Humphrey was baiting him or just trying to make a point. "No, Lyneth is her life now. She's more precious to her than anything or anyone." He understood that. That wasn't the problem.
Humphrey's head lowered, looking over at Des from that disconcerting angle, leaving the floor open if he wished to continue on. The very fact that Des had not even commented on his mention of Jon, or himself, but had focused upon Piper ....well, that was very interesting. Very interesting, indeed. But it wasn't something Humphrey was going to pry into, unless one or both of them wished to talk about it with him.
The fact was that Desmond had always known who he was and what he wanted. He'd always thought he was different from most people in that way - driven, sure of his choices and his goals. Why had all of that suddenly seemed to have changed" "It's never going to work," he found himself admitting to the old man, though he hadn't pried further. If Desmond didn't talk to him, Miranda would eventually pry it out of him anyway. "Her life is here. My life is there. She has a daughter. She has all of you. What am I supposed to do' I can't ask her to give up her life here and move there."
"That's remarkably fatalistic for such a successful young man such as yourself," Humphrey commented mildly, folding his hands in his lap as he leaned back in his chair. "So you have decided out of hand that there is no hope, no chance, and no future, have you? Odd, then, that you should be so reluctant to leave, if there is nothing here for you." He eyed Des sharply. "Or are you letting some foolish fear of living get in the way of your actually trying to give your life outside the work you do so well meaning?"