"Hey," Steve's sister greeted Danny Williams as she walked out on the deck to sit beside him. "How are you doing?" she asked as she sat, leaving Chin, Kono and Catherine in the living room.
"Well," Danny sighed. "I still miss him every single second, but you know. Being here helps, somehow." He shrugged slowly and took a swig of the Long Board he was holding.
"Yeah, I know the feeling." Mary agreed. "Being here after dad was…" she paused for a second to sniffle. "It was different, I guess. I mean, Steve was here to keep it, you know?" She looked towards the ground. "Now that he's gone too, I…" her voice faltered as she spoke.
"Yeah." Danny sighed, placing a comforting hand on Mary's back for a few seconds. After a few pensive seconds, an idea came to him. "Hey, do you know if your old man kept old pictures of you guys here, or any stuff like that?"
Mary took a second to compose herself. "Uh, yeah. He had boxes of our old stuff in the garage. When I was here last Thanksgiving I remember seeing the box with all Steve's old swimming trophies in it." She nodded. "So unless Steve got rid of them, they should still be there."
"Hmph," Danny snorted somewhat intentionally. "I highly doubt that. For as long as I knew him, the guy kept everything, I swear. Making up for all the time he lived the nomadic life in the Navy or something, I guess."
Mary chuckled lightly. "It's a wonder they were able to turn him. He was a pack rat when we were kids, too."
"Well," Danny allowed himself to laugh also. "He clearly reverted back after coming back to Hawaii."
Mary smiled, silently recalling some of their best childhood memories. "What were you asking about the pictures and stuff for?" she asked genuinely.
"I have an idea." He began. "I was thinking, Catherine, she's still so much in profound grief over him being physically gone."
"And you're thinking bringing out some of those memories could help her keep his presence alive?" Mary perked up, remembering an important conversation she'd had with her brother a few months previous.
"Yeah," he nodded. "I mean, sure I have stories and pictures and stuff, but I haven't known him as long as she has, Mary." He took another swig of beer. "I mean, take the swimming thing. I didn't know he swam competitively as a child. But I bet Catherine did. And she needs someone who can remember all of him with her, not just the last six or so years."
"Someone like his sister." Mary nodded in understanding.
"Exactly." Danny agreed. "I mean, who know what we'll find. I'm sure she'll take comfort in some of it." He spoke with subtle tones, hoping Mary picked up on the subtext.
"I was thinking the same thing." She let out a large breath, relieved that Danny had remember that conversation with her brother also. "C'mon, let's see what we can find." They stood up and headed for the garage.
A few hours later, the sad, heavy atmosphere that had enveloped the McGarrett house was almost completely gone, even if only for that day. Hearing all Steve's friends and his sister laugh so hard had made Catherine temporarily forget that she'd been trying to hear his laugh every day for the last few weeks. "And this, this was a good day." Mary explained the picture that they'd all gathered around the couch to see. "This was Steve's fifth grade science project." She pointed to a rather sorry version of a paper mache solar system.
"Uh, is that supposed to be our galaxy?" Danny asked with a chuckle.
"If it is, then why is Mars almost pink?" Kono asked, also with humour in her voice.
"Never mind that," Catherine surprised everyone by adding a jab and a chuckle of her own. Why does it look like the sun has rings?"
Everyone took part in the laughter with that remark, although for Danny and Mary, their reactions were more a manifestation of their relief to hear Catherine laughing than anything else.
The laughing and general light mood continued for a while longer before the group had to finally break up, leaving just Mary with Catherine sifting through one final box at the kitchen table. "Oh, wow." She smiled, looking at a picture of Steve with an arm in a cast standing in the living room, on the stairs. More specifically, on the fifth step from the bottom.
"What's that?" Catherine asked, eyeing it. "Wait," She smiled. "Did he fall down the stairs and break his arm?" She deducted from the old, slightly yellowing photo.
"Um," Mary laughed. "Broken arm, yes. But falling down the stairs? No, not so much falling. It was more thinking he could jump and land on all fours."
"Seriously?" Catherine tsked. "Did he think he was a cat or something?" she asked, amused at the thought.
"Yeah, some sort of cat superhero hybrid, if I remember correctly." Mary recalled. "For the picture Dad made him stand on the step that broke his fall." She laughed, pointing at it as she spoke. "And the one after that broke his arm, and the one after that gave his head three stitches." She shook her head remembering how fearless her brother had always been. "I can still hear Dad yelling at him, telling him he was taking the money to pay for the repair from Steve's allowance."
"Wait!" Catherine moved from her seat at the table and into the living room faster than she'd moved, period since Steve's passing. "So that's why these three stairs are different than the rest!" She called from her position inspecting the stairs. "I asked Steve about that a few times over the years but he never…" Her brain suddenly stopped, as the pain caught up to her. She stood in place for a few seconds willing the onslaught of tears she could feel coming to go away. Deep down she knew it was hopeless though. It was only a few more seconds before Mary appeared at her side.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Cath." She hugged her. "I didn't mean to get you…"
"No," Catherine interrupted. "It's okay, really." She began to get a handle on the outburst. "I, I'm fine." She sniffled and grabbed a nearby tissue box. "This was," she paused. "This was more helpful than you can know." She used the tissues and set the box back down to hug Steve's sister once more. "Really, Mary. I can't thank you enough."
"Hey, don't mention it." Mary shrugged. "We have to stick together, right? We'll get through this together."
"Yeah." Catherine nodded. "I guess you've been through this enough to be a pro by now, huh?" She was referring to Steve and Mary being predeceased by both their parents already.
"I s'pose." Mary agreed sheepishly. "If there's such a thing as being a pro at grieving."
"Well, let's hope neither of us will be getting any more practice any time soon." Catherine voiced what they were both thinking.
"Amen to that." Mary smiled and sighed. "Well, I feel like I should probably go. I'm sure you're ready for some rest after such a busy day." Mary meant what she said even though she knew Catherine had been able to sleep very little, if at all in the last few weeks.
"A good day though." Catherine genuinely smiled. "A really good day."
"Yeah." Mary agreed simply, fearing she'd start crying if she said any more. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
Catherine nodded, they hugged once more and said their goodbyes for the evening. After the door closed, Cath stood with her back against it for a few minutes, taking in the silence around her. Finally, she felt as though the pain had shown its first tiny sign of mercy in the weeks since that terrible day. Exhaling one long, satisfactory sigh she headed back to the table and the box of old pictures, articles and mementos. She was putting all the faded papers and grainy photographs back in the box when the corner of a newer looking envelope stuck underneath some other papers caught her eye. She pulled it out and almost lost her balance when she realized it was addressed, in Steve's handwriting, to her. Without so much as a second of hesitation, Catherine opened it and fished out the multiple sheets of paper inside. She momentarily held onto the stapled few as she realized the leftover single sheet was a hand written letter. Taking in a deep breath, and asking for more strength then she'd ever needed before, she began reading.
Cath,
First of all if you found this, it means you probably found the picture of me on the stairs with my arm in a cast. What can I say? I was eight, I thought I was invincible. Turns out, supercat man wasn't. And neither were the three stairs I broke when I landed on my arm.
I can also assume if you found this, it means I'm gone. I never wanted to do this, but when you moved back to Hawaii Danny convinced me it was a good idea. Please, please never tell him I said that.
Catherine laughed as she read through the tears that had already began to stream down her cheeks. When she'd taken a second to gather her breath, she continued.
Seriously, though. I did this to make sure we were clear on a few things. I want you to know that above all, I'm sorry that I'm not there with you right now. Know that I did everything I could to make sure this wouldn't happen. I don't know what happened to lead to me being gone, but here we are. You're reading this, and I am gone.
Every occurrence of the word gone felt like a knife digging further and further into her heart. She almost felt as though she couldn't continue, but it only took her a few seconds to realize she owed it to him, at least reading it. Suddenly aware of the complete silence around her, Catherine continued once more.
I can't change that, and I can't change how much you must be hurting right now. But, there is one thing I can do that will hopefully show you just how I feel about you and what we had. I figured out pretty quickly when you came back to Hawaii that we were meant to be together. I know we never talked about it in so many words, but I want you to know the moment I knew. I had a dream that first night after you moved in. we were talking, and you told me you believed in me the way I believed in you. It was then. I realized, if you love me that much, the only thing bigger than that was how much I loved you. What more do I need? I knew that dream spoke the truth. It spoke everything we both felt, but couldn't say out loud. That was when I knew we were going to be together for as long as we were both there. But now that I'm gone, there's one more thing that I can do. My house, Catherine. It's yours.
Catherine filled the silence around her with an audible gasp, frantically reading and rereading that sentence over and over again, thinking she'd somehow be able to process it the more she read it. The tears were flowing freely as she allowed her eyes to leave the page for a few seconds. Just long enough to take in the silence, and the humble home around her. She finally looked back down at the page in her hand, finding it difficult to focus on the words as the paper shook in her trembling hands.
The rest of this envelope's contents is the legal paperwork. Already signed by me, and by Mary who was more than happy to pass her rights onto you when I explained why I wanted you to have it. It's yours. I know the material things will never replace me, but you can look around and see that kettle you hate, my pillow, and the mismatched stairs and hopefully, think of me. Hear my laugh, and feel my love. I'm gone, but I'll live on in this house. Your house.
It's too hard to say goodbye, but know that I feel your love, and I'm holding tight, I won't let go.
Steve
Catherine was paralyzed sitting at the table. It was like her body and brain were disconnected, behaving like they were no longer attached. She looked down at the paper still clutched in her hand. What it meant, she could hardly fathom. For Steve to take these steps, and for Mary to give up her childhood home. It was all an emotional wave she couldn't have ever imagined or expected. Yet here it was, all the reassurance she could ask for that Steve will live on in her heart and now, her home. For the first time since his passing, Catherine welcomed the tears. She knew these were different than all the rest. They were the first steps to healing. And she knew it was because of Steve's incredible love that she could finally begin to heal, with the comfort in knowing he lived on in this house.
