Notes: Thanks to Mari and Sammy for all the help. I will always need Cammie checks and I never would have known the word "patina" without you :-)
Readers and REAL McRollers – Thank you for your amazing support! It really does mean so much, and I'm so glad you're with us as we continue on this ride.
Hope you enjoy!
Past, Present, and Future (A McRoll in the REAL World Story)
Catherine's phone buzzed at her desk with an incoming text. She smiled, assuming it was another update from her mother and Grandma Ang about the Cubs game.
"Another grand slam?" she wondered aloud as she picked up her phone. Instead there was an excited text from Mary.
Found it!
The message was quickly followed by a picture.
Catherine smiled broadly, admiring the photograph. She typed a response.
Oh wow! What a great picture.
And your timing could not be more perfect. The chair is being delivered today!
That's amazing! Send a picture!
Absolutely.
I'll bring a real copy of this when we come in a couple weeks, but I had to at least send a picture of the picture :-)
Thank you so much for that. I can't wait to show Steve.
Catherine sat back in her chair, looking at the photograph again.
When they'd told Mary about their plan to fix up the old McGarrett rocking chair with John McGarrett's spindles, Mary said she thought she remembered seeing a picture among the photos Deb had sent her of John holding her as a baby. It had taken a while for her to find the time to go through the box of photographs, but she'd finally found it.
In the picture, a young John sat in the rocking chair with a small bundle in his arms. The infant, swaddled in a pink blanket, seemed to be staring up at him wide-eyed as he looked back at her with a soft smile.
Catherine returned to her message screen and sent a text to Steve.
Are you at the palace?
His response was immediate.
No – just finished an interview in Waimanalo. Do you need me to be?
No, it's okay. I've got something to show you but it can wait till we get home.
You sure?
Definitely.
She knew she could send him the picture, but she wanted to see his face when he got his first look at it.
She could wait a few more hours.
Steve and Catherine arrived home at roughly the same time. He waited near her door as she got out of the Highlander.
"Hi," she said, her smile bright.
"Hi, yourself," he answered, closing the door and leaning down to kiss her. "Oke's on his way."
Catherine grinned, clasping her hands together in an uncharacteristically girlish display of glee. "Then we better get ready for him."
He chuckled, placing a hand on her lower back and matching his pace to hers as they walked slowly toward the house. "So what do you have to show me?" he asked.
She smiled up at him. "You don't forget a thing, do you, Commander?"
"Not when it has to do with you."
Her smile grew soft at that. "I'll show you when we get inside."
They reached the front door and he unlocked it, letting her step through first.
"Hi, pretty girl," she said, bending as much as she could to greet an eager Cammie. "Did you have a good day with Esther?"
Cammie huffed happily at the name of one of her favorite people.
Steve scratched her ears, then looked at Catherine. "I'll take her out," he said. "But first …"
She grinned at his leading prompt and took out her phone. "Mary found the picture." She pulled it up and handed the phone to him, watching as recognition dawned and he realized what he was looking at.
"Oh wow," he said. "That's definitely the same chair."
She smiled. "Definitely." She wound her arm around his, leaning closer to look at the screen with him. "So now we've got two generations of McGarrett men holding their daughters in the rocking chair that's about to be delivered." Squeezing his arm, she continued, "And in less than a month, it'll be three."
He smiled at her, then his eyes were drawn back to the image. "He looks so young," he said quietly.
She tightened her arm around his supportively. "Mary said she'd bring a hard copy of the photo when they come in couple weeks. I'm thinking we find a collage frame so we can put the one of your grandfather and Deb, this one with your dad and Mary," she smiled softly, "and one of you and Niblet all together."
He inhaled deeply, his eyes bright at the thought of holding his daughter and sitting in the same rocking chair his father and grandfather had sat.
She squeezed his arm again. "First step is the chair. Let's take Cammie out so we're ready when Oke gets here."
Catherine actually had to make a bathroom stop of her own while Steve took Cammie out. As the excited dog took a walk around the perimeter, Steve called his sister.
"You saw it," she said by way of answering.
"That's a great picture," he replied. "Thank you for sending it."
"You're welcome. I'm glad I remembered seeing it in the stuff Aunt Deb sent. I'll bring you a copy when we come."
"Thanks," he said again. "And you're sure you don't mind us keeping the rocking chair?"
"Not at all."
"I mean, if you and Aaron ever …"
"It belongs in the beach house," she said sincerely. "I'm looking forward to sitting in it and holding my niece in a few weeks."
"Okay." He smiled softly. "Thanks again for sending the picture. It was … it was really good to see that."
"I know what you mean," she said quietly. "Talk to you soon."
"Yeah. Love you, Mare."
"Love you, too, big brother."
Ten minutes later, Steve heard Catherine call his name from inside and knew Oke Oleani had arrived with the rocking chair. He brought Cammie inside as Catherine was opening the front door.
Oke smiled. "Good evening, Lieutenant." He looked down at Cammie trotting up to him. He held a hand out for her to sniff. "And good evening to you, too, Cammie."
She huffed in recognition and ventured out onto the lanai behind him to investigate a rocking chair-shaped object wrapped in brown paper.
Oke turned back to Catherine, his grin widening. He nodded at her. "Looks like I got this chair finished just in time."
Catherine smiled, rubbing a hand over her belly as Steve came up beside her. "Won't be long," she said brightly.
"Commander," Oke said, shaking Steve's outstretched hand.
"Thanks for coming by after hours, Oke. We really appreciate it."
"It's absolutely my pleasure," he said. "I'm happy I could deliver it in person to both of you. I think you'll be very pleased with how it turned out." He motioned to the chair. "Would you like some help getting it into the baby's room?"
Steve nodded. "I'd appreciate that."
Catherine called Cammie back inside and pushed the door open wider as Steve stepped outside to lift the chair with Oke.
"We're going upstairs," Steve said as they made their way in.
"I'll meet you up there," Catherine said. She grinned. "Even with the chair you two would outpace me."
She kept Cammie with her as the two men maneuvered the chair upstairs. She let the dog follow as soon as they reached the top and then made her own way up, finally joining them in Niblet's room.
They'd left the paper on, waiting for her.
"Ready?" Oke asked.
Catherine looked to Steve who took a deep breath and nodded. He and Oke removed the brown paper protecting the chair and then they stepped back in line with Catherine to look at it.
Oke had replaced all the slats in the back of the chair with John McGarrett's spindles, fashioned in wood that perfectly matched the original chair. At Steve and Catherine's request, he'd fixed the dents and breaks that had accumulated from years in the garage, but left the original wear and patina that showed how well-used the chair had been. There were grooves in the seat and on the back where a head would rest, and it was important to them that those signs remain across the generations.
While Cammie nosed around the chair, Steve's eyes stayed locked on it. Catherine took his hand.
"It's beautiful," she said.
Her words and touch snapped Steve back to the moment and he shook himself. "It's incredible." He looked at Oke. "Thank you," he said earnestly. "This is really amazing."
"It's a fine piece of furniture. I was happy for the chance to restore it." He smiled to see Steve's gaze had already drifted back to the rocking chair. He shared a look with Catherine and cleared his throat. "I'll leave you to get acquainted with your new addition," he said.
Steve looked at him and smiled. "Thanks. Let me walk you out."
"I'll say goodbye here," Catherine said, holding out a hand to Oke. "I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," he assured her. He pressed her hand. "You take care, now. I'm looking forward to meeting the real new addition."
She smiled. "Thank you so much for this," she said with a glance at the chair. "It's even more beautiful than I imagined."
"You are very welcome."
With a parting smile, he and Steve headed out of the room and down the stairs, Cammie behind them.
At the door, Steve shook his hand. "I can never thank you enough for hanging on to that first spindle. It's become this … connection to my father that now I can pass on to my daughter."
Oke held his gaze steadily. "I could never explain why I kept it … but now I believe that was exactly the reason."
Steve nodded, his gratitude clear in his expression.
They bid each other goodnight, and Steve headed back upstairs with Cammie to rejoin Catherine.
She was looking thoughtfully at the chair as he came back in the room.
"Do you like it in the corner there?" he asked. "We can move it if you want."
"No, I think it's perfect there. I was just thinking it's time to try it out."
He smiled and motioned to the chair. "Okay, you first."
Catherine shook her head. "Oh no, it's all you, Commander. Not only could I definitely not get up from there on my own," her smile softened, "but this is a McGarrett family heirloom. You should be the first to sit in it."
"But–"
"Steve, I'm sure I'll log plenty of hours in this beautiful chair," she said, a hand on his arm to still him. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it. But the first one is yours."
He gazed at her, reading her sincerity and conviction in her face. He nodded finally and took a deep breath.
Turning, he carefully sat on the edge of the rocking chair. Swallowing hard, he slid back to sit it in fully, running both hands over the smooth arms as the chair rocked back and he let it go forward again.
"Wow," he said quietly.
Catherine smiled softly, watching him absorb the moment.
"I can imagine them," he said, his eyes distant. "Dad sitting here holding Mary, and probably me … thinking about his dad sitting here holding Aunt Deb … it's …" His voice trailed off as his arms shifted unconsciously in front of him, as if holding his own child. "It's like, in a small way, they're here with me."
"More than a small way," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "They've always been with you, Steve. Even when you didn't know it."
He nodded slowly.
She stepped closer and touched his arm. "I'm so glad we found this chair. That your grandmother kept it … and that your father kept it after that. I can see you here, telling Niblet about them and your grandfather."
He smiled slowly. "Yeah." After a quiet moment, he looked up at her, his smile growing. "Your turn."
She sighed softly.
"Come on," he urged, standing and taking her hand. "I'll help you up."
She kept hold of his hand, using the other on the arm of the chair to lower herself carefully into it. She sighed again, happily this time, releasing his hand as she settled into the chair and slowly rocked. Closing her eyes, she rested her head back and ran her hand over her belly.
"This is perfect," she said quietly. She blinked up at him. "Just what we needed in this room. The past, present, and future."
He knelt beside her and put a gentle hand on her belly. "What do you think, Niblet?" he murmured. "You think you'll like rocking to sleep in this chair?"
Catherine smiled, placing her hand over his. "She'll love it, so long as her daddy is holding her."
That night after Catherine had fallen asleep, Steve still lay awake in bed. With a glance at her to make sure she was truly asleep, he got up carefully, plucking a t-shirt from the chair and moving silently out of the room, closing the door behind him so as not to disturb his wife.
He stood in the doorway of Niblet's room, the rocking chair lit by moonlight from the window.
Stepping into the room, he sat down again in the chair, feeling the old wood beneath his hands, full of memories even if he himself couldn't remember them. Taking a deep breath, he leaned his head back and rocked, his eyes closing briefly as he let the past, present, and future wash over him.
He never would have described himself as sentimental, but it felt so right to sit here in this chair where his father and grandfather had sat. His relationship with his own history had always been complicated, but in this moment, sitting there felt nothing but right.
When he opened his eyes, they landed on a notepad on top of the dresser. He knew it held the to-do list for Niblet's room, and was very nearly complete. He stared at it for a moment, knowing what he wanted, and needed, to do.
He stood only long enough to grab the pad and pen that sat on top of it and to flick on the small butterfly lamp on the dresser. Sitting back down in the rocking chair, he flipped to a blank page and started to write.
Dear Niblet,
He stopped, suddenly unsure.
This always seemed to come so easily to Catherine. But now that he came to it, it was almost like he had so much to say he didn't know where to begin.
He decided on a confession.
I'm not a writer. By the time you read this, you'll probably know that and be surprised this letter exists. Your mother has always been much, much better at expressing herself than I am. I've gotten a lot better, if you can believe it. But this doesn't come as naturally for me as it does for her, so bear with me here.
I'm sitting in the rocking chair that belonged to your great-grandparents, now with spindles designed by your grandfather, and thinking about the past, the present, and the future. And family. I'm thinking about family. And about all the things I'm going to tell you as you grow up.
I'll tell you about your great-grandfather who loved baseball and his family and who died protecting this island, serving his country till his last breath.
I'll tell you about your great-grandmother who had the strength and will after such a loss to raise her two children alone.
About your great-aunt who put family before her career and took in her niece without hesitation.
Your aunt who would be the first to say she's made mistakes but who learned from them and came out stronger, becoming a mother to your amazing cousin.
Your grandfather
Steve paused, looking up from the pad as all the complicated thoughts about his father swirling throughout the day resurfaced. He took a breath and began writing again.
Your grandfather who put the safety of his children ahead of everything else, even their own happiness. It's taken me a long time to come to terms with his decision. To forgive him for it. I know why he made it, and I know that I wouldn't be the man I am today, or have the life I have today, if he hadn't, but it will always be tough to think about the time we lost. The time we could have had together.
He paused again, hesitating to write his next thought.
I'll even tell you about
He stopped, not sure he could write "your grandmother" when Niblet would have Elizabeth and Grandma Ang and Nonna as true examples of what a loving grandmother should be.
I'll even tell you about Doris if you want to know, because she's part of your history, of our history, and history is important. But it's not everything.
I'll tell you anything you want to know. Anything that's not classified. And I'll never lie to you or keep things from you.
It's important to me that you know that.
It's really important to me that you know that.
He paused, gathering his thoughts once more.
I also want to show you that family is both born and made.
I was part of your mother's family long before we got married. Your grandfather Joseph and grandmother Elizabeth made me a part of their family before I even realized it was happening. And I will always be so grateful to them for that.
Grandma Ang whose love and laughter can make strangers and family smile.
Your uncle Danny, who's become the truest brother I've ever had and who's already taught me so much about being a father.
I want to tell you how getting to know your cousin Grace was one of the best things that ever happened to me.
How it feels every time Nonna calls me her 'nipote.'
I want to tell you how I came back to the island after years away and found new family in your uncle Chin and aunt Kono.
And how meeting the Allens has changed my life in more ways than I could have ever imagined.
There are so many others, and I can't wait for you to meet them all. You've even got a dog who will always be there for you. You're coming into this world with so many people already loving you, Niblet, and I'm so grateful for that. Because I know what it's like to think there's no one in your corner. And I also know that having even one person believe in you can make all the difference. For me, that person was your mother. Meeting her changed my life. I know exactly how lucky I am that she loves me. And I'll never stop being grateful that she does.
I spent most of my life thinking I'd never be part of a family, or have a family of my own. Then I realized that the day I met your mother, my path changed, and those things I always figured were for other people were possible for me, too. It took me a long time to realize that. Probably too long, but I got there. Your mother says things happen in their own time, especially with us. I think she's right, because she pretty much always is. By now I'm sure you know that, too.
I've been thinking about being a father. About being your father. It's scary and exciting at the same time. Probably the scariest thing I've ever done because the stakes are so high. I want to be perfect for you, but I don't even know what that means.
I do know that there are so many things I want you to know. So many things I want to tell you, and show you.
I want to show you that words matter, but not as much as actions.
That you can do more helping others than helping yourself.
That loyalty and honesty are more important than popularity and status.
That doing the right thing is hard, but always right.
I want to tell you that beauty goes far deeper than the surface and that your mother is the most beautiful person I've ever known.
I want to show you that men can do the dishes and women can run the government.
That strong men aren't intimidated by strong women. That they value their strength. Your mother is the strongest woman I know, and with her as your mother I know there's no way you can turn out anything but strong, too.
And that doesn't mean you won't make mistakes, because that's how we learn. I want to show you how to turn your mistakes into strengths. How to rise to a challenge and come out better and stronger.
I want to tell you that the world can be a confusing place, and sometimes it's even frightening, but I will do everything I can to keep you safe and to help you make sense of it.
I want you to know that I will always be there for you. As long as I'm alive, you'll come first. Never doubt that.
Never doubt how much I love you, and how much I want you to be safe and happy.
Making that happen, that's the scary part. But your mother and I are both up for the challenge.
Our biggest one yet.
I can't wait.
Love,
Dad
His breath whooshed out of him shakily as he wrote the last word, the first time he'd ever written it and meant himself.
He'd done it. A letter to Niblet. To his daughter. There might be more, and there might not be. But he'd done it.
He looked up at a soft sound and saw Catherine standing in the doorway with Cammie beside her.
"I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head. "Just making sure you're okay."
"I was writing to Niblet."
She smiled softly. "I thought so."
He paused, staring at her, hair slightly sleep-tousled and eyes full of love and understanding as always.
"You and Niblet want a bedtime story?" he asked, holding the notepad up.
Her smile slowly spread across her face. "We'd love one."
Hope you enjoyed!
Note: Special shout out to Nancy Robison who has been hoping for Steve's letter to Niblet for a while. I hope you liked how it turned out!
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