You've Only Just Arrived (a Tom Hiddleston fan fiction)

Part 55

You’re in the kitchen watching the three amigos argue over how exactly to dismantle the kitchen tile so they can redo the grout. Richard, John, and Bruce had spent the rest of the day yesterday trying every solution they could think of to try to get the kitchen clean again – solvent, scrub brushes, and elbow grease. That failing, it had been a unanimous decision that the grout work needed to be gutted and replaced. Your vote (to keep with the scrub brushes and maybe try bleach) had been tossed out as an outlier. Forget being able to go shopping with them to help make decisions in the kitchen remodel – that had been voted down as well.

Their assurances that it wasn’t a true remodel didn’t do anything to soothe your irritation. Your space, your call – which is why you’d planted yourself in a kitchen chair to supervise as they carefully hammered at the stained grout and jimmied the tile up from the affected area. It’s been less than 24 hours and it is already painfully clear that regularly having five people in the smaller space that is your place is going to be a challenge.

The three men are determined to pester, though the word they choose is protect, you and Tom to the best of their abilities. It remains to be seen, after this day of rest for you and Tom, how well they can pull off that mission. Will they alternate who gets double detail? Perhaps they will end up rotating which of the three of them travels with Tom, versus you, to save from the boredom of doing the same thing over and over again each day.

Currently Tom is lounging on the sofa in the main room, content to letting the men work unsupervised and also not wanting to add to the already cramped conditions in the kitchen. You had been sitting with him in the main room until John and Bruce had returned from their shopping trip. Tom’s eyebrows had synched up slightly when you ground your teeth and followed Bruce, John, and Richard into the kitchen. You’d discussed it with him while lying in bed the previous night – he knows how ill being in the kitchen makes you feel. There’s no way to change that without exposure, though.

Even taking that into consideration, you have to get up and leave the room a few times. The guys have given up on asking if you’re ok – only Tom can ask without being on the receiving end of an annoyed expression.

You’re fine.

Well, you’re not fine. But you’re certainly tired of them asking.

After breaking for lunch you feel free to spread your busy work out over the kitchen table. Tom has staked out the sofa and coffee table and you need the large surface area – the idea being that the more busy work you have to distract you, the less you’ll occupy yourself with the memories concerning the room you’re in.

When the doorbell rings, you’re not entirely sure you heard it. Everyone else is still occupied with their respective projects. It might have been someone’s phone, or an imagined noise. “Was that the door?”

Richard is up and brushing his hand of powdered grout at the sound of the second buzz. “Got it. Stay put.”

You don’t listen, following him out of the kitchen to find out who is at the door. Who is coming to visit? Matt and Andrew should be working – Ben is out of town, on to the next project – Who else could it be? Mark, making a house call?

Peering around Richard as he opens the door, your jaw drops. “Dad? What the….”

“Surprise honey!”

“Sir.” Tom, you realize, is up off the sofa and standing just off your shoulder. He reaches around you to proffer his uninjured hand to your father and it dawns on you - this is the first time Tom has met any of your family. Wonderful conditions, this.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” You should probably be feeling more excited to see your father after so many months of phone calls, but his unannounced arrival has you thrown.