Facta Non Verba

"I'll admit, Father, I had my doubts, but as it turns out, you were right. Just look at all those happy people."

Father Brown smiled at Mrs. McCarthy before going back to surveying the crowd in front of them. A couple of weeks ago, he had proposed a day for a "celebration of parenthood" that would include a special Sunday Mass and a potluck lunch where parents would be given a small corsage or boutonniere from their children, young and old, which was meant as a thank you for their service as parents.

The event turned out to be an even greater success than he had anticipated. Families were gathered together, sharing a meal and joyful moments as the parents got to bask in the appreciation given to them in abundance from their children. When he walked around the crowd, he heard snatches of old stories and childhood memories being told and laughed over. There was a sea of flowers pinned to lapels and dresses.

"It looks like they are already running out of my award winning strawberry scones," Mrs. McCarthy added. "Not to worry though. I have another plate of them ready to go. I'll just fetch them now."

Father Brown nodded and walked over to snatch the last scone for himself. As he did, he saw Lady Felicia walk over with an intriguing expression on her face. An expression that managed to look elated and confused at the same time.

"Lady Felicia," he said. "I wasn't sure if I would see you today. Although, it's good of you to come."

"Thank you, Father," Felicia nodded. "I hadn't planned on coming originally. This being more for parents, after all. Monte is off in London again, so I thought I would ring up one of my friends for lunch. But when I got home from Mass, I found a beautiful bouquet of flowers on the dining room table."

"Oh?" Father Brown said, his interest piqued. "Something from your husband, perhaps?"

"No, flowers aren't really Monty's style at all," Felicia replied. Her brow furrowed a little as she pulled a card out of her purse. "And then there was this attached to them."

Father Brown took the card from her hand and studied it. "'To a mother who is giving and who is open and compassionate to others.' Interesting."

"I was hoping that maybe you could recognize the handwriting," Felicia said. "None of the servants remember seeing anyone bring these flowers to my house. So it's all a bit of a mystery to me."

"Yes it is," Father Brown nodded. "Although I imagine it's a rather benign one. Perhaps someone showing their appreciation for all the charitable work you do for the community."

"I suppose you're right," Felicia said, her smile brightening. "Still, I do wish I knew who it was so I could thank them for the lovely gesture."

Father Brown was about to say something else about the card when he saw Mrs. McCarthy dash outside to meet them. Instead of the plate of scones he had expected to see, she was carrying a bouquet of flowers in her arms.

"I just found this in the kitchen in the presbytery," McCarthy said. "Someone sent me flowers."

"They look rather similar to the flowers I got earlier," Felicia said.

"By any chance, was there a card?" Brown asked.

"As a matter of fact, there was," McCarthy said. She handed it over to the Father who held it close to his face to study it.

"'To a mother who is caring toward others and who is dedicated and kind,'," he read. He held up the card next to the one that Felicia had given him. "And from the look of it, they are from the same anonymous author."

"Can you tell who it is?" Felicia asked.

"Not for certain," Father Brown replied. "Whoever this is went to a lot of trouble to disguise his or her handwriting. Which implies that it is someone who the both of you probably know."

"Someone from the church, more than likely," Felicia offered.

"And what makes you so sure of that?" McCarthy replied.

"Well, it's not as if we often travel in the same social circles," Felicia said. "So it stands to reason that it would have to be someone who goes to one of the few places we both go to frequently."

"That is a logical assumption, yes," Father Brown said. "Although, there are other possibilities…."

"Well, whoever it was…it was very nice of them," McCarthy said, beaming down at the flowers in her hands. "And it is a very pretty arrangement. Although, I don't know about being referred to as a mother."

"Obviously, someone wanted to show their appreciation for your diligence in helping members of our parish," Father Brown smiled at her. "I can think of many families in our congregation who have reason to thank you for your efforts. Perhaps whoever this was felt that your actions, and yours too, Lady Felicia, are like those of a caring mother."

Mrs. McCarthy smiled even more, her mouth opening to say something that seemed to be cut off by the joy she clearly felt. "I should, I should put these in some water," she finally managed to get out. She walked back to the presbytery with Father Brown and Lady Felicia watching her with smiles of their own.

"It's not often that you see her at a loss for words," she said. "But she does deserve a moment like that."

"As do you," Father Brown added. He was pleased to see another delighted smile appear on Felicia's face in response. Then he fell silent for a moment as a new thought crept into his head. Once it was fully formed, he grinned again. "Lady Felicia, is Sid driving you home later?"

"Yes he is," Felicia answered. "Why?"

"After he takes you home, could you send him back to the presbytery?" Brown responded. "Tell him, that there's something I need for him to do."

After the potluck was over and the tables and dishes were cleared away, Father Brown walked into his office and was greeted by a bottle of wine sitting on his desk. Attached to the neck was another card, similar in appearance to the ones that were on Mrs. McCarthy and Lady Felicia's gifts. He plucked it off and read it.

'A Father is not just a title from a church.' Brown recognized the handwriting as the same as what was on the previous two cards. He picked up the wine bottle and noted that it was a wine that he had admired in the local market a couple of weeks ago.

It was that thought, and a second glance at the card, that made all the questions he had fall away. His suspicions confirmed, he smiled as he realized that this gift was the expected last piece of the puzzle.

"Father? Father, are you here?"

Brown carried the wine bottle into the kitchen and found Sid standing there looking for him.

"There you are," he said. "Lady F said you needed me for something."

"Yes, I did," Father Brown said. "Sit down, Sid."

Sid shrugged and pulled out a chair which he promptly plopped onto. He leaned back and nodded at the bottle in the Father's hands. "Someone paying you a visit?"

"Someone already has," Father Brown said as he sat down. "Someone who also paid Mrs. McCarthy and Lady Felicia a visit as well. Someone who went to a lot of trouble to not be found out. Who made sure to disguise his handwriting so as to not leave an obvious clue. And who could go from place to place without being noticed."

"Sounds like someone pretty clever," Sid smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yes," Father Brown said. "And I imagine having a vehicle he could drive around made his work even easier. There was only one flaw in his plan."

Sid's face fell. "What's that?"

"He didn't count on me remembering a conversation I had with him when I saw this wine in the store the first time," Brown replied. He leaned forward with a triumphant grin. "Although, I might not have ever put it all together if he had ever learned to write a proper 'F' after all those lessons I gave him as a child."

Sid laughed and eventually settled into a sheepish grin. "I should have known you'd figure it out. Nothing ever gets by you."

"I wouldn't go that far," Father Brown smiled back. "Thank you, Sid. From all of us."

Sid blushed and ducked his head down for a moment before nodding. "You're welcome." He cleared his throat and slapped his hands on the table. "Well…if that was all, I'll leave you to enjoy your wine and…"

"If you're not busy, I would like to have a glass with you," Brown said.

"No, I…that's your present, Father," Sid said. "I can't…."

"It is my present, yes," Brown interrupted. "And I know I would enjoy it even more if I could share some of it with the person who was thoughtful enough to give it to me."

Sid let out a little laugh and grinned again. "Sure."

Father Brown fetched a pair of wine glasses and poured each of them a portion from the bottle. Sid held his up for a toast.

"To parents then," he said. Father Brown beamed at him in response.

"To parents," he repeated. "Parents of every sort. And to the children they are lucky enough to have in their lives."