A/N: I'm backtracking more than just a little bit here, to give you all a look into Wayne's first meeting with Grace's parents, way before they got married. This is the first part of what's probably going to be a three-act section of their story, and takes place seven months after the events of Conventioneers.
Van Pelt stood anxiously in the Baggage Claim area of Terminal A at Sacramento International Airport, checking the computer screens every 30 seconds for updated information on the status of Flight 3240 from Kansas City. She started pacing around the baggage carousels to pass the time, and was so distracted that she nearly walked straight into the tall and somewhat imposing figure that was her father.
"Sweetheart, were you going to stop and say hello to your old man?" he asked with a big grin on his face.
She reached up to wrap her arms tightly around his neck. "Hi, daddy!" Her father picked her up slightly off the floor and spun her around quickly before setting her back onto her feet. Grace looked around the baggage area and saw no sign of her mother. "Hang on, where's mom?"
"She's in the ladies room. It's been a long day and our stopover in Denver wasn't very long, so she wanted to freshen up. In the meantime, I have been tasked with retrieving our bags, which I see rolling on the carousel as we speak." Rich Van Pelt leaned down to give his only daughter a quick peck on the cheek, and worked his way through the crowd surrounding the carousel to claim the bags.
Grace heard her name being called and spun around to see her mother approaching. She waved to get her attention. "Mom, we're over here!"
Pam Van Pelt made a beeline for her daughter, who was soon joined by her dad. "Do you guys have everything?" Both parents nodded. "Okay, well, it's about 6:30, you must be hungry, do you want to get something to eat?"
Pam Van Pelt reached over to hug her daughter, giving her the typical I'm-your-mother-and-I-haven't-seen-you-in-forever onceover before taking her rolling suitcase from her husband. "Why don't we take our things to your apartment and get settled in first, then we can decide on dinner?"
Grace nodded in agreement and started digging around in her purse for her keys and parking ticket. "That sounds like a good plan. My car is in the garage; it should take us only a half-hour or so to get home." She and her mother linked arms and set off in the direction of the parking garage.
"So, Grace, tell us all about this nice young man of yours we're supposed to meet tomorrow …."
True to form, Grace pulled into her parking spot in front of her building exactly thirty minutes later. Her dad unloaded the bags from the trunk of her SUV and followed his two favorite women up the stairs to Grace's second-floor apartment. As she led them through the door, he noticed her nervously flitting about in her living room, straightening pictures, fluffing pillows and generally trying to make sure everything in her already-tidy living space was perfect for her parents. It was a trait she'd picked up from her mother.
"Grace, honey, relax. You have a lovely little apartment. Why don't you show me where your mom and I are going to sleep? You have a guest bedroom, right?"
Grace straightened and beckoned for her dad to follow her. "First room on the left. Only one bathroom though, so you're stuck sharing with mom and me again."
Rich Van Pelt grinned broadly. "I think I'll manage." He set the bags down just inside the doorway of the guest bedroom and stepped back to admire his daughter's home. She favored mostly neutral color palettes – creams and browns with the occasional splashes of color in a throw pillow or in the many photo frames lining the walls. He recognized a few photos that had once adorned the walls of her dorm room in college; pictures of old friends and favorite haunts from home. The unfamiliar ones were clearly newer, images of places she'd visited since moving to the west coast. Conspicuously absent were any photos of her new beau. He decided to file that information away for further explanation later.
In the meantime, Pam Van Pelt had been going through her daughter's kitchen, checking to ensure that she was well-equipped for dinner the next day and attempting to determine whether they would need to make a grocery run before the night was over. She noticed a checklist stuck to the fridge, denoting what each guest was expected to bring the following day, and smiled. Grace got her organizational skills from her dad. She frowned, however, when she could find no evidence of a turkey anywhere in the fridge or freezer. A commotion from Grace's bathroom shook her out of her reverie. She raced to the bathroom and found her daughter dumping out a large pickle bucket full of water. That's my girl, she thought, thawing her turkey in the bathroom, just like her dad and I used to do when she was little before we moved into the bigger house.
"Grace, do you need an extra pair of hands?"
She looked up and smiled softly at her mom, brushing her hair out of her face with her forearm. "Thanks, mom, but I think I got it. I think the turkey only needs to soak for a couple more hours and it should be all thawed out." She reached for the faucet and started re-filling the bucket.
Pam reached over and turned off the water flow as soon as the bucket was full. "Come on, sweetie, let's go get some dinner. How does pizza sound?"
The three Van Pelts were settled around their table at Round Table Pizza, sharing a pitcher of soda and waiting for their large Hawaiian pizza to arrive, when Grace's dad decided it was time to broach the subject of his daughter's mysterious boyfriend.
"So, Grace, I noticed that you haven't mentioned this new man in your life. Were you going to tell us about him, or were you just going to wait until he comes over for dinner tomorrow?" His wife kicked him quite sharply under the table, connecting soundly with his shin. "Ow!"
"Richard Van Pelt, that is no way to bring up this subject!"
Grace had to laugh at her parents' bickering. She'd expected her mother to be the one pressing the issue about Wayne, not her dad, but she appreciated her father's directness on the topic. Sneaking around at work was hard enough; hiding from her parents had been torture. She only hoped they would be understanding.
"Mom, it's okay, really. You guys should know a little bit about everyone who's coming over tomorrow anyway, including Wayne. It's just going to be us, and the rest of my team. We're on call this weekend, so we can't leave town. I offered to have everyone over for dinner before you two decided to come out to visit, and they're all very excited to meet you."
The Van Pelts exchanged a knowing look over their daughter's head. She was fibbing to make them feel better.
"So, your boss is Teresa, right?" Pam inquired.
"She goes by Lisbon in the office, but yes, her given name is Teresa. She's very no-nonsense; I think you'll like her a lot, dad. She has three younger brothers, all of whom live on the east coast. She's originally from Chicago and she's a Bears fan."
"I like her already," Rich replied with a grin.
Grace continued. "Kimball Cho is the most senior agent beside Lisbon. He's kind of a tough nut to crack – very much the strong and silent type. He's always got a book on him, for long stakeouts, though, so you might be able to get him to open up about what he's reading, mom." Pam Van Pelt smiled brightly; she was a voracious reader who hosted regular book club meetings at their house.
"Patrick Jane is our consultant. Jane is …." she paused, trying collect her thoughts and choose her words carefully, "Jane is an interesting character."
Pam knew that tone in her daughter's voice. It indicated that there was more to the statement than she truly wanted to reveal. "Interesting how, sweetheart?"
Grace leaned back into her chair and took in a deep breath, debating internally whether to go for broke and tell her parents Jane's whole story, minus the more gory details, or skim over it. In the end, she decided honesty was the best policy. She adopted a very quiet voice, so as not to attract attention of other groups sitting nearby.
"Jane worked for many years down in the L.A. area has a psychic counselor, and part-time consultant to law enforcement agencies. He was very well-known in Southern California and make a very good living. Unfortunately, he also attracted the attention of a serial killer, who murdered his wife and daughter. Their deaths hit him very hard, and he was forced to admit that his psychic abilities were a fraud. The CBI took over the investigation of all the cases a few years ago, and he's been working with us ever since."
Her parents' reactions to this news were identical, and exactly what she expected: a mixture of horror, pity and a tiny bit of revulsion. She opted to continue and plow through her impressions of Jane, just to get it over with. "Jane probably won't bring up either his wife or daughter at dinner tomorrow, but he does still wear his wedding ring, so I thought it was important that you know the whole story, lest we end up in a very awkward conversation. I should also warn you that Jane is very upfront about his lack of spiritual beliefs and can be very tactless when he wants to be." She turned and addressed her father directly. "Dad, I would really appreciate it if you would try not to engage him in any debates about faith."
Rich Van Pelt wrung his hands around his napkin a few times. As a deacon at the Episcopal Church he'd attended since childhood, purposely not discussing his faith was a bit anathema to his nature. But he'd also done some research on this Patrick Jane person before traveling to Sacramento, and based on the information he'd been able to find, he decided that for his daughter's sake, he would keep quiet. He could do that for a few hours. "Absolutely, Grace. We don't want to make this weekend any more stressful for you than necessary."
Just then, they were interrupted by their server, who arrived with three plates, their pizza, and a refilled pitcher of soda. They dug in to dinner and the conversation lagged for a few minutes. Pam Van Pelt was the one to break it.
"So, Grace, the only person you haven't told us about is Wayne. He's the one you've been seeing for a little while now, is that right?" she inquired, gently prodding her daughter to 'fess up to the full extent of their relationship, which she'd been very vague about in her phone calls home.
Grace blushed deeply, and made a very good show of carefully chewing and swallowing her bite of pizza before responding to her mother. "Yes, mom, we've been together several months now."
"But he's a member of your team at work, too, is that right?"
Grace saw the very suspicious look on her mother's face and knew that both of her parents assumed that her relationship with Wayne was, strictly speaking, out-of-bounds. Again, she decided to face the topic head-on. "Yes, mom, we work together. And yes, I know that both of you are wondering if that is allowed, and the answer to that is no. If we were in different departments, it wouldn't be an issue, but since we are on the same team, we are, at best, skirting the rules. If either of us did anything at work that would give our relationship away, Lisbon would be forced to either transfer or fire one of us. We are always very discreet, and Wayne has his own apartment, so for now, it isn't a problem."
"But?" her dad chimed in.
"But …. we're getting to the point that we've started to talk about a long-term future together. That can't happen while we're both on the same team, but we can't agree on who ends up making the move. It's harder than I thought it would be, Dad." Grace pushed away the uneaten remainder of her pizza, wiping away at the tears that were threatening to escape her eyes.
Pam Van Pelt reached over and clasped her daughter's free hand comfortingly. "Honey, is he worth it? All the discretion, the stress of worrying about whether you'll get caught? Maybe the best thing would be to go your separate ways."
Grace shook her head vehemently. "I love him, Mom. He's sweet, and considerate, a lot smarter than anyone gives him credit for, a good agent and a good man. Most importantly, he loves me too. I can't imagine my life without him."
"Is he cute?" Pam asked teasingly.
Grace laughed uncontrollably. "Yes, mom, he's very handsome. He's six-four, has the most beautiful hazel eyes and a great smile. He'd also put some of Dad's kids to shame with how fit he is." Grace winked mischievously at her father, who chuckled in response.
Rich Van Pelt checked his watch and realized it was already close to 10PM. He waved over their server and requested the check and a box for the leftovers. With dinner paid for, he stood and pulled his wife and daughter up from their respective seats. "Come on, Van Pelts, it's time to head home. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."