DISCLAIMER: I own NONE of the characters, except for Jane and Elizabeth. Not one. If I did, I'd be a very wealthy person...
"Ben, Riley, Patrick! Dinner's ready," called Abigail Gates. She had just placed down the Watergate salad on the table to complete the Thanksgiving feast. Taking a step back, she looked at the finished product of a meal and was utterly please. All three men gathered around the table with gleaming eyes. Ben took his small, blonde wife in his arms and kissed her lips.
"Are we going to eat or starve," Riley questioned. Everyone smiled and sat down to the glorious feast presented to them. As they began to eat, choruses of "this is delicious" and "thank you" poured out of the men's mouths and filled the room like Christmas bells. Riley looked up from his plate, with his mouth full of turkey and mashed potatoes, and claimed that the food was orgasmic. There was an awkward silence.
"You know," began Ben "if it was not for Lincoln then we wouldn't even be sitting -." He was cut of in mid sentence by a knocking on the door. Who would actually cal on Thanksgiving? All of the Gates clan was at the table and it was a holiday, so the telemarketers had the day off. Or they just had the courtesy not to call. Patrick got up from his seat.
"How about I get that. You kids sit down and keep eating." He walked to the door and looked eagerly for the peep hole to see who was knocking. Then he remembered that there was no peep hole as the house was raised in about 1810. Patrick opened the door, letting the cold and brisk November night air slap his face. He looked down onto the porch and there stood a petite girl.
"Is there a Mr. Benjamin Gates home," asked the girl in a husky, low alto voice.
"Hold on for a moment please." Patrick closed the door and walked over to the dinning room table. There was idle chatter going, nothing really important.
"Ben, you have a visitor at the front door."
"Can't they come back? I'm eating dinner and we were just about to discuss an opening at the Smithsonian. They just found several new fossils -."
"I don't think so. You should come now." Ben rose and took brisk steps to the front door. He opened it and saw the girl standing there, looking at him with a slight smile. Her small features gave away that she couldn't have been older then eighteen.
"Hello Uncle Ben. I don't think we ever met before, but to make a very long story short I am your niece Elizabeth. I am the daughter of your sister Jane."
Ben looked at the child in shock. How could she be related to him? He swore his father told him that Jane passed away in the late eighties.
"Come in sweetheart. You look half frozen to death," started Patrick. He stepped aside and let Elizabeth in. She turned to the men and thanked them. Ben led her and his father into the parlor, while calling for his wife and good friend to come along as well.
"Elizabeth, this is my wife Abigail and my very good friend Riley Poole. The gentleman that first opened the door is my father Patrick Gates. Abby, Riley, this is my niece Elizabeth."
"When did you get a niece Ben," Riley asked.
"Apparently my older sister had a daughter."
Abigail sensed a little bit of tension between everyone. Not the angry type of tension, the kind that caused people to be silent and uncomfortable. She suggested that everyone sit by the fireplace and she would bring out some coffee. Elizabeth sat closest to the fire.
"So Elizabeth," began Ben.
"Please call me Lizzie. I rarely go by Elizabeth."
"So Lizzie, as you can imagine this is a big pretty big surprise to not only me but everyone here. Why are you here? Why aren't you with your mother or father?"
"Mom had just passed away from lung cancer. I'm shocked that she lived as long as she did smoking a pack of clove cigarettes a day. As for my father, he's not around. He's off somewhere."
"Rewind that for a moment," interrupted Ben. "How long ago did Jane die?" His heart felt ache, but his mind felt confusion. How could this teenaged girl be his niece? Was she telling the truth or not?
"About three months ago. As she laid in the hospital bed rotting away from the cancer, she informed me that since Daddy was good as gone that I was to find you. She kept telling me that you would help me. After she died, I had hardly any money so I stayed at a friend's house for a while which in the end destroyed the friendship and turned the friend into a cocaine loving monster. Thus, I had to find you!" There was a deafening silence. She began again, "I know you are probably thinking who am I really, or even that I may be a con-artist. But I assure you that I really am your niece!"
Her small pale hand took out of her ratty brown messenger bag and gleaming silver locket and handed it to Ben. Ben studied it, feeling the groves of the design on the top of it. Patrick took it out of his son's hands and gently opened. Inside there was a faded, almost yellow picture of a very young Jane Mercy Gates. Patrick felt tears whelm at his eyes. He then turned to Ben.
"Ben, she's telling the truth. This was your sister's favorite locket. I remember she wore it everyday. She would call me from school every time she forgot to put it on and I'd have to bring it to her." Patrick chuckled, his mind began to cloud with memories.
"I guess I should be going now, I've taken up enough of your time." Elizabeth rose from her seat and stretched her arms out toward the ceiling. She then bent down to get her messenger bag. Abigail interrupted the girl's actions.
"No, I think you should stay with us tonight. It's so busy outside with everyone driving out there and during the holidays, it's almost impossible to find a hotel in Philly. We also have plenty of rooms. What do you think Ben?"
"Of course she can stay," he said nonchalantly. "I think Abby has a pair of pajamas you could also borrow."
Elizabeth felt a wide grin emerge on her face. Abigail took her hands and the two females rushed upstairs. Riley, noticing that all the reasonably " important" action was over for the night, returned to the dining room in hopes of finding remnants of somewhat warm turkey. Patrick and Ben were left alone.
Ben turned to look at his father. "I thought Jane was dead for quite sometime now? This was a surprise.." He sat down in the brown leather recliner and deeply exhaled.
"Well," began Patrick. He walked up to Ben as if his own son were vicious animal, one that would rip out an explorer's eyes because it was being poked and prodded. Ben did have the capacity to blow up at someone who he considered lying to him.
"Obviously, that wasn't the entire truth. It's very complex and complicated -"
"I have time Dad. Tell me everything."
"This whole situation began when I first told your sister about the treasure. After your grandfather told you about it, Jane found out that you were told something she wasn't. She asked Grandfather over and over to tell her what he told you. He wouldn't and it hurt Jane every time that he declined her request. I was getting angry as well. Why couldn't a Gates know about a treasure WE were searching for? So one day I asked him why. I was informed that the treasure was a male's only club, no females allowed. I walked out of the room so angry, I could have killed someone."
"How does this effect Jane?"
"I'm getting there. So I took her aside and I told her about the treasure. She lit up like a Christmas tree. Then she asked why her own grandfather wouldn't tell her about it and I told her why. She was upset. One could see the seeds of revenge being sowed in her eyes. She began to obsess about the treasure and vowed to find it."
"That's what I did as well!"
"You wanted to find it for the world and to share, she wanted to find it so she could throw it in the family's face. She already had lists of items she was going to buy once she found it and discussed how she would forget about all of us after she had her riches. She only wanted the treasure out of greed and revenge. So, after her freshmen year of college she dropped out and began to look for the treasure herself."
"It sounds like a female Ian. They should have hooked up," commented Riley from the dining room. He had listened to the conversation intensively.
Ben turned to his young friend. "Go back to eating Riley... It's funny, how little Elizabeth looks like her mother. She just has Jane's eyes and dark, curly hair. Everything else looks familiar, but I just can't name where I've seen them before. Anyway, I'm glad she's here."
Patrick nodded in agreement.