Rip - Becoming Whole

After the Storm

They sat at the dinner table, ready to eat, with only Rip's chair still empty. Robert and Jamie had come back to the ranch together, just as dinner was about to be served, Regina already awkwardly sitting in the spot that Jacob had left vacant.

"I'll go up and get him, father," Robert said, when he saw Mr Dutton getting restless and motioning to get up. He could read his father's mood like no one else and was the only one that was ever allowed to step in occasionally. It had always been like this.

A few minutes later they came down together and Rip slipped into his seat without even moving the chair. Head bowed, he made sure not to look at anyone. He normally would have been giving out to at this stage for making them wait and for being impolite to their guest, but as he smelt the food, he knew he wouldn't get through this tonight in one piece and therefore needed to retreat. The ants in his belly were getting restless again. His uncle's restraint surprised him. 'It's an act', he thought. 'He's going to let me have it as soon as Regina is gone, just like dad,' but then scolded himself for the comparison he had made.

Mr Dutton ladled a little stew into Rip's plate and Rip looked at it in horror. "I'm not hungry, Papa!" the boy objected meekly, despite knowing full well it was no use. Terrified of the powerful memories the stew could stir up in him he felt all eyes on him, the heat already rising up his neck and onto his cheeks from beneath his collar.

"You eat what is on your plate. End of discussion. I only gave you one spoonful!" his uncle told him in a firm manner. He didn't sound unkind, but neither was there any real compassion, and he left no room to argue.

They have been through this many times before. The boy found it difficult to eat when he was stressed out. Everyone in the household knew this, everyone agreed he needed to eat regardless. This was the one thing Mr Dutton was sure about, and something he was not prepared to falter on, even Samuel agreed with him on this one. In fact, he had been the one who told him to take charge on it.

He knew it was the right thing to do because the boy had started to grow in weight, as soon as they had changed tack, and it was a relief. He was not going back to where he would let the boy skip one meal after the other but realised that maybe he should have prewarned Regina about it. He was wondering how this looked to an onlooker as he noticed his sons exchanging looks with each other. He could sense their need to intervene which often ended up in a row.

"I can't Papa, please," the boy whimpered, his head bowed. He couldn't help but imagine the mushy food running down the walls in their kitchen. He could sense that tonight would be one of those nights and he was scared. Rip's face was hidden beneath his long hair, but Mr Dutton noticed a tiny wet stain on the boy's dark t-shirt and he suddenly felt the boy's distress. He was asking him for help. He needed him. It was a good thing. It was what he wanted him to do. He needed to reward it somehow, but how was he to do this without letting him skip the meal?

Mr Dutton picked up Rip's plate and his own. "Come along, son. The two of us are going to eat in the kitchen. We might even find you something else to eat," he instructed Rip.

"Excuse us, Regina," he added and gave Jamie a nod which he hoped would be enough for his son to realise that he was supposed to take over and come up with a suitable explanation.

"Is there something the matter with my food?" Bernard asked when he saw them enter his kitchen with the plates of untouched food in his employer's hands. He sounded slightly offended.

Mr Dutton was surprised to see the man still in his kitchen. He usually was gone at this stage but today he had delayed, tending to his storm battered vegetable patch behind the house. Mr Dutton looked at Rip. He wasn't sure what to tell the proud chef.