{"id":15798,"date":"2018-01-03T12:39:31","date_gmt":"2018-01-03T17:39:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=15798"},"modified":"2025-09-25T15:40:33","modified_gmt":"2025-09-25T19:40:33","slug":"stocking-orange","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=15798","title":{"rendered":"Stocking Orange (by faust)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: Adam recovers after having been ill at Christmas. Enter Hoss’s bedside manners, lots of Britishness, a little boy, and an orange. Bliss.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

1,225 words, rated K<\/p>\n

Also available in eBook format \u2014 please pm me for that.<\/p>\n

My Story Index and reading order for the Art-Universe<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Stocking Orange<\/strong><\/h3>\n


\n<\/span>After more than a week the raging fever was finally down to a tolerable level but Adam was aware he still looked like something a rat dragged in\u2014a cat certainly would not have deigned him even a look. So he was lying in his bed, alternatively sweating like a melting glacier or shivering like a storm-beaten oil light, almost wishing the violent yet creative fever dreams back, and fantasising about sitting in his blue chair. That last point, when hinted at, was, naturally, not met with much sympathy by his keepers.<\/p>\n

Rather with pitying smiles and long-suffering sighs.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut \u2019m beddr, rea\u2019y!\u201d His attempt at convincing them didn\u2019t sound even remotely persuading, even to his own ears. And anyway, as Hoss put it ever so elegantly, \u201cIf you tried, I\u2019d jest haul your sorry carcass over my shoulder and carry you back to your bed like the sack of smelly socks you look like and stink like.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWha\u2019ever,\u201d Adam answered just as eloquent and far more heated.<\/p>\n

It was this exact moment the heavenly powers decided to intervene. The bedroom door opened, and in stepped a peculiar little caravan: two people, fitted with cotton gloves, thin shawls covering mouth and nose, and each carrying a bare wooden chair.<\/p>\n

Dr. Martin had proclaimed him no longer contagious, but of his wife and son Adam was particularly protective.<\/p>\n

The chairs were set next to Hoss\u2019s (who\u2019d stood at Juliet\u2019s entrance and pushed his stool back a little, like every good and valuing-his-health brother-in-law would), and then all sat down.<\/p>\n

With a tiny nod to Henry, Adam frowned briefly, but Juliet laid her cool-even-through-the-glove hand on his arm and took a moment to draw tiny, soothing circles on his hot skin.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe insisted,\u201d she said then, and there appeared a proud little smile in the small part of her face Adam could see.<\/p>\n

He yearned to see the whole glory again, the radiant smile, the way it curved her lips, the way it wrinkled her nose, the way it made her fair beyond compare, yearned it so much he nearly forgot about Henry.<\/p>\n

Albeit\u2026Henry had never been an exceedingly patient child to begin with, even at times when he not just had spent Christmas and New Year\u2019s Eve without his father\u2019s attention but rather with an empty seat at the dinner table and a vacant post in the merry band of Cartwright entertainers, who seemed to be performing mostly for Henry’s benefit at holidays and such. It wasn\u2019t in Henry\u2019s nature to remain in the background if he had a mission to accomplish\u2014and apparently, he had just that.<\/p>\n

\u201cI brought you something,\u201d he said eagerly, and his expressive eyes scrutinised his father from above the shawl.<\/p>\n

It was ball-shaped, orange, and had a smell even Adam\u2019s congested nose could detect.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy stocking orange,\u201d Henry added helpfully. \u201cI kept it for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHenry, lad, you shouldn\u2019t have. There are more oranges in the pantry, I\u2019m sure. You don\u2019t have to give away\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut this is a stocking<\/em> orange, it\u2019s special.\u201d Another scrutinising glance at his father, as if fearing for his old man\u2019s mental state. Then, almost whispering, \u201cA Christmas orange. And you didn\u2019t get a stocking this year.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was accusation in it as he glanced at Juliet, but she only rolled her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt would be all spoilt the time Papa eventually is well enough to go down and enjoy it properly. When it\u2019s time, there will be a stocking, and an orange in it, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut it ain\u2019t a real Christmas orange then.\u201d Henry managed to stomp his foot sitting completely still and looking like a perfect little angel (albeit one attired with gloves and breathing protection.) He\u2019d learnt that from a master, someone of British heritage and noble upbringing. No American could ever achieve this effortless countenance in each and any circumstance.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt isn\u2019t<\/em>,\u201d Adam corrected belatedly.<\/p>\n

\u201cSee?\u201d came Henry\u2019s predictable answer. (They\u2019d played this game often enough, it came to them automatically. Adam at times wondered why Henry still hadn\u2019t learnt it\u2014or if, by any chance, he had, but intentionally\u2026oh, those sneaky Brits. Mother like son.<\/em>) \u201cYou need to take it,\u201d the boy added with much the same fervour and a lot more eloquence. \u201cIt\u2019s good for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Oranges were Henry\u2019s favourites, and he always claimed the Christmas orange from his stocking tasted better than any other; juicier, sweeter, \u2018Christmassier\u2019.<\/p>\n

Drop<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Lord, that penny has taken its sweet time.<\/em><\/p>\n

Adam took the fruit that was still held out. \u201cThank you,\u201d he said seriously. \u201cI greatly appreciate it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Juliet gave him a look that seemed amused about either his choice of phrasing or his slowness, or most possibly about both of them, then stood and declared Henry\u2019d been subjected to the sickness long enough, and ushered him out of the room. Henry, of course, tried to protest briefly, but one lifted eyebrow by his mother, and he was compliant. How Juliet did that, Adam had no clue.<\/p>\n

The last thing he saw of his wife was her conspiratorially smiling face when, already in the process of leaving, she suddenly turned back, pulled her scarf down and gave Adam a quick peck on his cheek. Then Mylady was gone, too.<\/p>\n

\u201cYer not gonna eat that thing, are you?\u201d Hoss said when they were alone again and Adam was fiddling with the orange\u2019s skin already.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, but I verrrry much intend to do so.\u201d Adam rolled the R at the top of his tongue.<\/p>\n

Hock cackled, as usual when Adam imitated Juliet\u2019s accent. \u201cI\u2019ll get you another one, if yer so eager for them,\u201d he said then. \u201cHere, give me that there orange. I\u2019ll give it back to Henry,\u201d and as Adam pulled the fruit away when he reached for it, \u201cYou cain\u2019t rightly mean to steal your boy\u2019s most prized stocking gift!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not stealing it, he gave it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut he\u2019s making a..a\u2026a darn sacrifice. He\u2019s just seven years old; dadburnit<\/em>, Adam!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, he\u2019s sacrificing it, if you will. Yes, and it\u2019s something very important to him, which makes it a sacrifice in the first place, doesn\u2019t it? And yes, he\u2019s just seven, and it\u2019s a big thing for him. It\u2019s a big thing for him, Hoss. I won\u2019t spoil that for him. What\u2019s his gift worth if I reject it? What\u2019s a sacrifice without a beneficiary?\u201d<\/p>\n

The orange, as it turned out, was excellent, and Adam told Henry so at his son\u2019s next visitation.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s because it\u2019s the Christmas orange. I told you it\u2019s special.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s special, indeed,\u201d Adam said, and would have given the next hundred years worth of the world\u2019s harvest of oranges to be allowed to take Henry into his arms there and then. \u201cAs it has a rare but distinct taste: love, Henry, love<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

And Henry, with that<\/em> look at his father again, the one that clearly questioned his old man\u2019s sanity, said, \u201cI always only tasted the cinnamon from the gingerbread man on it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he threw himself at Adam, giggling and hiding his face in the bedcovers first, then snuggling really, really close and getting as still as a child like Henry could ever get.<\/p>\n

\u201cLove,\u201d Adam whispered as he stroked Henry\u2019s back.<\/p>\n

And from the depth came an almost inaudible, dark \u201cmhmm\u201d.<\/p>\n

______________________________<\/p>\n

What is a home without a child? ~ Mark Twain<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

*** fin ***<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

With many thanks to JoaniePaiute for the beta, for her encouragement and her friendship.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Tags:\u00a0 Adam Cartwright,\u00a0Hoss Cartwright<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My Story Index<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: Adam recovers after having been ill at Christmas. Enter Hoss’s bedside manners, lots of Britishness, a little boy, and an orange. Bliss.<\/p>\n

1,225 words, rated K<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":20,"featured_media":13587,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_hide_featured_image":false,"_jetpack_featured_image_duplicate_dismissed":0,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[23,4,41],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15798","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-humor","category-hurtcomfort","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-4-id","wpcat-41-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/12\/Christmas.jpg?fit=300%2C300&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15798","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/20"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=15798"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15798\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/13587"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15798"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15798"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15798"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}