Recluse: Chapter 9
DISCLAIMER: Most of these characters are not mine at all, but they are memorable. Thank you, Mr. Marlowe. The others? Yeah, they're mine
Saturday afternoon – September 27, 2014, 4:03 p.m., Castle's Island Home in Connecticut
"I love you, Dad," she tells Jim Beckett, who stands admiring his daughter, unable to keep the emotion from his eyes.
"I love you, too, Katie," the older man manages to get out. Somehow his beautiful daughter is a bit blurry to him, as he wipes the moisture from his eyes.
"Oh Dad, don't get me started," she half laughs. "If I go out their sniffling with red eyes, he may change his mind."
"That man wouldn't change his mind if you walked out there on a peg leg, Katie," Jim quips.
"Oh man, that would have been so outstanding if I had thought of that!" she utters in disappointment. "Do you know how much he would have loved that!?"
"What I know," her dad notices out loud, "is that this is your day, the day little girls dream about . . . and yet you're thinking about how to make it better for him," he says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.
"Anything wrong with that?" she asks, smiling.
"All you have to do to make it better for Rick is just to show up, Katie," he tells her. He means it, as he knows the man outside would marry her in a phone booth if necessary. But he also knows that a private island, with a sleek boat in tow is far better than a phone booth.
"You look so . . . gosh, Kate, you look so beautiful," he says softly. "Johanna would be speechless to see you like this."
For a brief instant, sadness overcomes the two, as they consider how different today would be if just one more person were able to be here. Fortunately, the thought of Johanna brings to mind another reason she so loves the man outside.
"Did I ever tell you, Dad, about the first time Rick and I talked about a wedding . . . how we would want it to be?"
"Not sure you did, princess," he replies, drawing a smile from the term she grew up hearing often from a much younger version of the man next to her.
She leans back on the counter, pulling up the long, billowing train that balloons outward in three directions. The fourth, on her right side, is cut high, midway up her thigh. She makes a conscious effort to stay to right of her father. The white dress is complemented by a red, under-bust corset bustier, and a matching red jacket. She wears a white, wide-brimmed hat that is tilted at a forty-five degree angle.
"We were thinking about possibilities, different venues," she begins. "And you know Rick, always wanting to make a game of everything."
"Pirate wedding? Nope, I have no idea what you are talking about," he laughs, drawing her laughter into his own.
"He had this idea for each of us to make a list. We'd come up with the best five places we could choose to get married, and whichever locales were on both of our list made the final cut," she smiles, remembering that evening some five or six months ago.
"Might as well flip a coin," Jim muses aloud, shaking his head in wonderment.
"That's another story, I will tell you about that one in a minute," she laughs out loud, shaking her head as well.
"But for this story – well, we both grab a piece of paper, and start on our list. As it turns out, it wasn't as easy to do if you are really taking it seriously – which we both were doing. Anyway, it ended up taking a good glass of wine between both of us."
He nods his head, totally enthralled not with the story, but with the youthful exuberance in which his daughter tells the tale. He offers yet another round of thanks upward toward the skies at his baby girl finally finding the right man . . . finally finding the man who might give her the same happiness that Johanna had given him.
"So, we finish this list," Kate continues, "and we exchange the lists. Take a wild guess – and Dad, when I say wild, I mean out-of-his-mind wild guess as to the very first bullet on his list."
"You've got me, Katie," he smiles. "I don't think my mind even wants to go searching where Rick Castle's mind dwells."
They both laugh, and she looks at his with glistening eyes.
"Mom's gravesite," she tells him softly, bringing utter and complete silence to the room. He can only stare at her, knowing that she is serious, and – knowing what he sees in Richard Castle – he also knows that the writer was deadly serious when he put that on his list. And in the number one spot, no less.
"I . . . I don't know what to say," he finally gets out.
"I didn't either," she reminiscences, her eyes staring at him, through him, with a faraway look. "He had said – and I quote – don't you think your mother would want to come?"
Their silence lasts another few seconds . . . which turn into a half minute before the older man finally breaks through.
"Well, in that same vein . . . I bet she thinks you look stunning today," Jim tells her. "I know she can see you, and I know she is happy for you. As am I."
"Thanks, Dad," she says softly, stepping away from the counter, and into a warm hug from her father. At that moment, Lanie walks down the hallway into the front room, finding her way into the kitchen. Both Kate and Jim smile, struggling not to allow a smile to grow into anything more . . . audible.
"Don't you dare, girl," Lanie warns, and Kate realizes the woman is only half kidding. "And you'd better consummate the deal quickly with writer boy, because I am going to kill him for this," she hisses.
The medical examiner wears a short, eighteenth century jumper over a flowing, balloon-armed blouse. The hunter green dress falls some eight or nine inches short of Lanie's knees. The white blouse is designed to highlight her ample . . . well, Javier will be busy during the ceremony. A green feather cap completes her attire, along with dark brown suede boots that rises up some two or three inches below her knees.
"You look . . ."
"Father of the bride or not, it is important you don't complete that sentence," Lanie warns, and finally the laughter that has been surfing just below the surface erupts from Kate and Jim Beckett.
Seconds later, an irritated but still excited Lanie Parrish walks toward the front door, turning to look back at the father and daughter.
"Well, come on . . . let's not keep the savages waiting," she tells them as she opens the door and walks out.
Jim, still chuckling, looks at his daughter, taking her hands into his own. He brings them to his lips, placing a soft kiss on each hand.
"Thank you, Katie," he tells her, his voice strong, hiding the emotions simmering there.
"For what, Dad?" she asks, clearly confused.
"For giving me a happy day that I didn't think I would feel again," he tells her honestly, as he grabs her lightly by the arm.
"Now . . . let's go take that walk I have dreamed about for about three decades, Princess," he tells her. Her eyes starting to mist, she falls into step with him as they head toward the open door.
"I love you, Katie."
"I love you, Dad."
