Michael's Wish, part 6

Despite everyone's desire to do so, Michael counselled against pressing Morgan more than once each on the issue of his attendance. His suggestion was considered with about the same weight as his suggestion they not eat the strung popcorn off the tree. Morgan heard about everyone's opinion of his disappearances almost nonstop for a week. After Claire decided to give him an earful in bed, he threw her out and refused to leave his apartment. Michael, waist-deep in work and home projects, merely shook his head and said, “I would rather not have to deal with a cataleptic fit. Leave him alone.”

Claire, in her usual sarcastic manner, retorted. “Oh, he's alone. He won't see anyone.”

“Claire, does it occur to you with all the problems he has, that perhaps he might have some reason not to want to join in?”

Claire sighed. “Nobody wants to be stuck home for the holidays with the same people year in and out, but I think once a decade is...”

“He was allowed once in his lifetime. Once in his life he was allowed this simple, child's joy. Once. Whatever he connects with it, after all these years, probably isn't pleasant.”

“Well, choosing to be a hired killer...”

Michael dropped the pen he was holding and dragged her up to Morgan's suite. He shoved her into a side room and closed the door. “Don't ever bring that fact up outside of Morgan's rooms again. It's an ugly fact to hide as it is. Making it a topic of conversation will not make it any easier to mentally partition.”

“Ignoring the fact...”

“The fact he kills for a living is impossible to ignore. Being discreet about it is almost as hard so you had better work at it.”

“Or else he'll silence me?”

“Or else I will. And I have my non-evil ways of doing so.”

Morgan's voice suddenly rang out, “I did not know you were the kind to make ultimatums.”

Claire and Michael both jumped and looked farther into the room. Michael clicked on another light. Morgan sat at the far side with several sheets of stock in his hands that apparently he'd been reading. “Claire, get out of here.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest but Michael deftly opened the door and pushed her out before three syllables left her mouth. He closed the door soundly. “I apologize. I didn't realize you were in here.”

Morgan smacked the sheets on a table. “I don't blame you. She is horribly indelicate. I could have managed the rest of the pressure the family was placing on me but she was the worst.”

Michael made a vocal shrug.

“I threw her out of bed.”

Michael merely shrugged, “She has her own. What was so bad?”

“Well, I can live with being considered inconsiderate and unloving. I can also manage being called cowardly and impotent. And she may call me a lush all she likes. But she had to bring up our son. And then she called me mama's boy.”

“It's an American insult,” Michael elucidated, “It merely means unmanly.”

“I am well aware and if she had called me effeminate, unmanly, girlish, it would have had no effect.”

Michael could only nod agreement.