Now
"So have they figured out where you live yet?" Johnny asks. There's no judgement, it's a purely practical and analytical question.
He was in Istanbul on business and detoured for a quick visit on his way back to the States, he's already planning a more substantial visit in May, so this trip was a welcome surprise. He claims it was just to visit me and see how I am before the baby is born but I caught he and Jace in the study last night going through a few custom upgrades to our home security system. I choose not to ask, it clearly makes them both feel better so until I feel like a prisoner in my own house it hardly seems worth my energy to take issue.
"Not that we can tell, but I'm not naive enough to expect that to last forever." I say truthfully. "I am hoping it lasts a little longer though, you know I was adamant that we try and keep that secret until after the new baby is born. Our whole time out of the public eye would be quickly ruined by exposure." I say, frowning and shifting in, what is likely a futile attempt to get more comfortable. "But I'm not supposed to be worrying about anything, so I imagine we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." I add, relaxing deeper into the sofa, gently massaging my belly.
At yesterday's doctors appointment my blood pressure was "a bit higher" than the doctor would like and I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I was to spend the next week relaxing and minimizing stress as much as possible. With my due date only 10 days away, Jace has taken it upon himself to put me under house arrest and Johnny has arrived just in time to act as my willing jailer while Jace takes care of a few appearances this weekend. While I don't particularly mind missing out on our "family photo ops", on this unseasonably warm, clear day I'd much rather be at the park with Jace and Bea or browsing the zoo with Celine, Stephen and Eli, but alas, growing a tiny human takes priority, even if it is fairly boring business.
Today, I can't help but remember the days before Eli was born, when I was actually on bedrest and as much as it was maddening then too, in hindsight it seems as though it was far more manageable. Jace was almost always with me, keeping me company and attending to my every need. We spent hours on end reading, doing crossword puzzles and daydreaming about who our child would be. But then of course, back then, we were able to do all of that, there were no schedules to keep, appearances to make or children to keep up with and clean up after. My, a lot has changed.
"Earth to Clary? Are you there?" I hear my brothers voice, interrupting my revery.
"What? I'm sorry. What were you saying?"
"I just asked how you're feeling today, where'd you go just now?"
"I feel pretty good," I say smiling, "the baby is super active though, it's distracting, not to mention it makes it hard to sleep and sit still."
"I can only imagine, can I feel?" Johnny asks shifting to sit near me on the sofa.
"Of course" I say, grabbing his hand and positioning it on my belly where he'll feel maximum movement. "I was thinking about when I was on bedrest with Eli. It was so much easier to submit to, even though it was so much longer, why was that do you think?"
"Holy shit, it's like that scene from Alien" he says referring to the baby seemingly turning somersaults inside me, "How do you focus on anything with that going on?"
I laugh at the comparison, "It does feel like an alien sometimes" I tell him, "you sort of get used to the strangeness of it and it gets easier to ignore." I add, concentrating on the alien movements, trying to picture what she's doing in there.
"Four years ago, your life was far more simple." Johnny continues, picking up the threads of our conversation. "fewer obligations and no 3 year old." He explains, echoing my own thoughts. "besides, you're not actually on bedrest, you're just supposed to be taking it easy, if you wanted to get out of the house for a coffee I wouldn't tell anyone." He suggests, smiling conspiratorially.
"Yea? Let me grab my bag." I say smiling as I hoist myself up.
"Walking feels good." I say as we meander down the street arm in arm towards a nearby coffee shop.
It's nice to be able to catch up with my brother without everyone around. Jon has always been an observer and in a group he tends to be fairly reserved and quiet, fading into the background of a conversation, participating in it, but not driving it. He's the kind of guy who is best one on one and in person and I'd say our standing weekly happy hour, when we both lived in Boston, is one of, if not the thing I miss most about living overseas. Alone we can really talk and catch up.
"So tell me about this new girl of yours?" I prompt. I see a blush rise in his cheeks as an involuntary grin spreads on his face. He really must like this girl.
"Her name is Catarina, she's a nice girl." He says, offering the predictable bare minimum of info and nodding his head.
"Oh yea? And where'd you meet this nice girl has you grinning like an idiot?" I tease.
He takes a moment to try and straighten his face before answering. "We met at a fundraising event for the Kellerman Foundation."
I've heard of this organization before I don't know too much about it other than the fact the Johnny is a big fan of what they're doing for veterans and therefore a staunch supporter. "Care to elaborate?"
"Well, what have mom and Emma already told you?" He deflects.
"Mom, not much. Ems just that she seemed sweet, a bit quiet and that you're enamored with her."
"Enamored? Really?" He says incredulously, twitching with quiet laughter.
"Her words, I believe she also commented on the way you look at her and suggested she wouldn't be surprised if you're planning a wedding this time next year." I elaborate.
"A wedding? Really?" he says, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"HmmMmm." I say, leaving the floor to him to continue.
"Well," he said as that goofy grin returned in full force, "she is kind of amazing." He looks at me, with a smile that reaches his eyes and it's my turn to raise an eyebrow as I wait for more. "She was an army medic in Iraq, around the same time I was in Afghanistan. Now that she's out of the Army she's working as a paramedic out of the Kendall Square fire house while pursuing her degree in Social Work. She wants to work with military families and vets transitioning post-deployment. Kellerman does a lot of work with that population and entrepreneurship. So we met, at this fundraiser, when I was trying to explain to the bartender that a good Rye Whiskey makes a superior Old Fashioned. She snuck up behind me and chimed in advising the bartender to "listen to me, learn something and make that two". After that I insisted on buying her drink and we just spent the rest of the night talking, trading stories. It was nice. That was back around the holidays."
"Wow, that's fast for you to bring a girl home, you really must be enamored." I say with a laugh as he opens the door to the coffee shop and guides me inside. We find a small table in the back and take our seats as the waitress comes over with menus.
"How's it going Mrs. H?" She asks politely in her lilting cockney accent. "Can't be much longer now can it?"
"Not too much longer, Maura" I say rubbing my belly, " and I can't wait." I answer. "This is my brother Jon, by the way, I'm not sure if you've met before." I say introducing them, Jace and I have been coming here since before we bought the house, they know us well.
We order, tea for me, coffee for Johnny and a few pastries and continue to chat while beverages are brewed and snacks are delivered.
"I do like her, though." Johnny says, "To answer your question, I brought her home cause it just felt right. It's almost seamless, the way she fits perfectly into the rhythm of my life. I don't know how else to explain it. You know me, I've never been good with these kinds of conversations." He says.
"I'd say you nailed it. And I daresay you're in love with this girl. Is Em right? Are you going to be planning a wedding this time next year?"
"I don't know, we haven't really talked about it and truthfully I haven't really thought about that." He offers sheepishly. "She's a bit younger than I am-"
"How old is she?" I interrupt.
"25, but she is a mature 25, unlike our dear middle sister." He answers referring to Valentina. "She'd have to be, she's got the combined life experience of someone twice her age."
"How so?"
"Well war, for one. But also she's lost both of her parents so it's just Cat and brother."
"How'd she lose her parents?" I ask, starting to understand his strong connection to this girl.
"Her dad was military too. He was killed by an IED in sort of a freak incident while he was trying to help dig new sanitation trenches in a village outside Baghdad when she was 12. Her mom was an ER nurse in Chicago and was killed in a hit and run by a drunk driver one night after work on her way to the train when Cat was a senior in high school. Her brother, Ragnor, was in his junior year at NYU and ended up transferring to Northwestern after taking a semester off so the two of them could sort through everything. But she lost a lot of momentum and instead of going to College she enlisted, she'd initially planned to go to college first and then joining the Military. It was tough on her brother, but they're in a good place now. He still lives in Chicago and works in the mayor's office"
"Wow." I say quietly, not sure what else to say. "I can't even imagine what it's like to go through all of that."
"Yea, and she's so impressive Clar." He says, excited to talk about her. "The way she's still pursued dreams and built her life back up. And we can just talk about anything, you know and we can completely empathize with each other, we share so many similar experiences. It's incredible, I've never known anyone like her and I've never experienced this kind of connection before. You know what I mean?"
I see it written on his face. This girl is the one. "Johnny, I know exactly what that feels like." I say, smiling as I reach across the table to squeeze his hand. "And I am so happy for you that you found her." I say sincerely, feeling my eyes well up, goddamn hormones. "When do I get to meet her?"
"I think she's gonna join me in May. She's just got to organize the time off from work, she likely won't come for the full two weeks, but she'll make something work. She's excited to meet you."
"Oh yea? So you've told her who your brother in law is?"
"I have, as a matter of fact, but she's most interested in meeting you. We talk a lot about our families, her parents, Dad, Mom and Luke and I think just the way I talk about you versus Emma and Val, she knows your opinion matters more to me than anyone's."
Johnny and I have always had a strong bond, formed both because we are closer in age, but also by a life experience that Emma and Valentina don't share and while they can sympathize they can't empathize. For better or worse Jon and I talk about different things with each other than we do with our sisters. He is more vulnerable with me than with anyone, and therefore able to open up to me and share his secrets with me more so than anyone else and I do the same, although perhaps to a lesser degree. Throughout the years it has caused some tension with our sisters and while in some ways I think the age difference has something to do with it, there is no denying the mark that losing our dad left on Johnny and I.
"Well if she makes you this happy I think I'm going to love her." I said honestly.
With that Johnny's phone buzzes, he glances at the screen and says "busted" turning the phone around revealing a text.
Jace: is everything ok? Where did you guys go? Everything ok?
I laugh and look for my phone only to remember it's still sitting on the coffee table next to the book I was reading. "Gimme, I'll call him." I say extending a hand for his phone. Johnny pays our tab while I ease Jace's concern, he's home and I tell him we'll see him there shortly. I finish my tea and Jon his coffee and we start making our way home, back the way we came, arm in arm once again.
"So, tell me, how'd you tell her about Jace?"
"After that first dinner with the family she had a lot of questions about you and your husband, whom everyone was awkwardly careful not to name. I think she was starting to think you were married to Voldemort." He teases. before going on to explain. "She was having a tough time with the understanding the dynamic so when we got in the car to go back to the city she asked why you guys live here and if it was for your job or Jace's job. I explained that it was sort of an accident. When I said that she asked if it caused some kind of rift, cause nobody wanted to mention Jace." He pauses taking a breath. "I pretty much decided I might as well just go for it at that point. So I explained that you're married to Jace, that you value your privacy that the last girl I brought home didn't get it."
"What did she say?"
"I believe her exact words were "wait, that surly guy from the demon movies? He seems like such a pompous ass""
At that I burst out laughing. "Yup, that's the one." I respond through fits of laughter, " I think I like this girl even more. That's a perfect reaction."
"It took me by surprise, I'll say that much. She was more concerned that he's an asshole who has you trapped over here. I tried to explain that while this wasn't your plan you certainly weren't trapped and that your career really took off over here. When I asked if she thought I was the kind of guy who'd let his sister get trapped in any kind of situation, I think she started to feel a little bad about her assumptions. But I swear, it wasn't until after the Oscars that I think she really believed me."
"Well then she sounds like your perfect match, that reminds me so much of your initial weariness of Jace." I point out.
"Well, skepticism is only natural and you know as well as I do that the guy gets a bad rep. What was I supposed to think?" He asks rhetorically. "But after getting to know him, I feel for him, it's a tough place to be in." he finishes.
"Well we put you and the family in a tough place too and I am sorry for it." I can't help but apologize.
"Clar, we deal with it how we want to deal with it, no one feels put out. You know that." He says squeezing my hand.
"I love you guys." I say "and I can't wait to meet Cat." I squeeze back.
Then
Emma, stood completely dumbfounded staring at Jace and I couldn't help but giggle a bit at his extended hand and the playful half smile on his lips. Johnny, often slow in the uptake with this sort of thing, seemed fairly confused by the tableau before him.
"But you're-" Emma said, slowly inching towards the recovery of her faculties.
"Jace, Clary's boyfriend." He offered, playing up extreme politeness. "It's really nice to meet you."
I see Johnny across the room take a longer harder look at Jace before vague comprehension dawns in his eyes and he looks at me, silently working through this puzzle in his mind before he looks at me mouthing "Kieran Mulcahy?" I smile back, nod my head and offer a noncommittal shrug as Emma finally takes Jace's hand a shakes it awkwardly.
"I- ah-" Em stutters. "Um, it's nice to meet you too." she finally says before dropping his hand, turning on a dime and grabbing my arm to lead me to the other room.
"We'll be right back." I say over my shoulder.
She heads for the bedroom, shutting the door behind us. As she turns she is startled to see Jace's propped open suitcase on the chair.
"Ok spill." She says, rounding on me.
"Spill what?"
"You, sister, are dating Jace fucking Herondale. What do you mean 'spill what'? That seems like a pretty straightforward instruction." She says, eyeing me speculatively.
"I told you I had my reasons for keeping this to myself, now you can see why." I say with a shrug, hoping it's enough and knowing it probably isn't.
"No, no, no. You need to go back further, how did this even start and how long has this been going on?" affecting a tone not unlike one our mother would use. Not one that my 19 year old sister should use.
"What's with you? 'How long has this been going on?' Seriously Em?" I say, making my irritation with her tone of voice plain.
"Clar, I don't mean it like that." She offers, apologetically. "I just, I'm surprised is all, this is crazy. I thought maybe I'd know the guy, especially because you were being so cagey, I thought maybe your jackass ex had wormed his way back in. But never in my wildest dreams did it even cross my mind that I'd know the guy cause he was Jace fucking Herondale."
"His middle names actually Christopher, not fucking." I say, just to push her buttons.
"His name's Christopher." She mimics my tone, insolently, and giving me a look. "Really? That's all you've got?" Emma says. "How can you be sure who this guy is? How did you even meet? I mean he's got kind of a reputation, doesn't he?"
"Em, I know, it's-" I pause looking for the right word, "surreal. I still can quite rectify the man he is with the one he's made out to be. He not like that at all and I just don't think of him that way, to me he's just Jace. He's sweet and funny and thoughtful and so much more than what everyone thinks he is. I know what his reputation is and I know him and I've met his family and some of his closest friends and I'm telling you he's really not like that. He's not at all like that. I'm not sure of anything except that he's something special, I am in love with him and I intend to see where this goes. I wouldn't have invited you and Jon here tonight for any less and I'd appreciate you keeping an open mind."
"I'm sorry," She eyes me for a moment, scanning my eyes looking for something I'm not telling her, but there isn't anything. "You're right, that was probably out of line." She says after a moment "I was just taken completely by surprise." She apologizes "But seriously how did you even meet?"
I give her the short version of that fateful day in the rain, explaining it and all of it's ridiculousness before we rejoined the men. I pause momentarily to take in the scene before us. A classic display of what I can only refer to as maleness, extremely cordiality veiling intense and careful study. They are talking about travel, specifically the places they've been they're both very well traveled but for very different reasons. Jace was standing between us and Johnny, the set of his broad shoulders positioned to take up space, his posture open and erect, a careful balance of stiff and casual. His tone of voice is light and musical as he asked Johnny where he's visited and found most interesting. I couldn't see his face but I imagined it was not unlike my brother's, he was similarly postured and facing the entrance to the room, his eyes reflecting his busy analytical brain as it carefully assesses Jace for reliability and overall risk. Boys will be boys.
"How long will you let this go on?" Emma teases.
"As long as it needs too, besides, it won't end even if we're sitting there." I say laughing as we move into the kitchen.
At the sound of my laugh Jace turns, smiling at me, his eyes alert and twinkling with excitement and amusement. He gracefully leans over to the counter and fills two glasses of wine handing the first to Emma and the second to me without breaking conversation and deftly adding Emma and I to it.
I partially participate, my focus split between the conversation, stirring the sauce and assembling the garlic bread. This is more about them, I know all three and all three of them have a fair idea of where my passports been stamped, this is about them getting to know each other and to some degree, realizing we're not all that different from one another and I am happy to facilitate that, even if it's as the topic of conversation. Listening to people talk about travel is often interesting in its own right, listening to people talk about how I travel is something I find strange to listen to. I've traveled my fair share of places, with family, with friends and for research. But it's the research trips taught me how to travel without being a tourist. What to look for and the questions to ask to knit yourself into the fabric of a place and experience it in a natural way. I talk to everybody when I travel, and I mean everybody, it drives a lot of people crazy, which naturally is what they're talking about now.
Johnny finds my methods fascinating and has told me he's used my tactic, if you can call it that, in the field. According to him it's the most successful way to glean intelligence from a local population. But Emma somehow finds it scary, perhaps her parents went too far admonishing strangers. Or perhaps, there have been too many times when I've struck up conversations with cabdrivers and made her uncomfortable.
"Ems, remind me what the best meal you've ever had in your life was?" I interject feeling the need to defend myself. Refilling up my glass and leading the group to the kitchen table.
"Okay, but who knew where we were going to end up!" Emma argues.
"Wait," Jace interrupts, "I don't think I know this story."
"I didn't tell you this one?" I ask, but then I realize I wouldn't necessarily, I don't find it nearly as remarkable as Emma. "I suppose not, I've had experiences like this all over the globe but Emma thinks this is the closest I've ever come to getting her kidnapped."
"If it makes you feel any better I think we've had closer shaves since then." Emma offers.
"Gee thanks Ems, you know you don't have to travel with me." I say with some asperity.
"Well you are the best person to travel with." Emma admits
"Very true. But you know we're getting off topic?" Johnny points out.
"Indeed we are." Jace agrees. "The best meal you've ever had?"
"THE best meal I've had period." Emma says adding emphasis.
"I was in Florence researching the one of the frescoes in the Palazzo Vecchio a couple of years ago. The professor I was working with was studying claims that it was actually da Vinci. Before you ask, It's not, but you've got to wonder we're all those stories came from."
"You're already getting off topic again." Emma says with an eyeful.
"Maybe," I say, 'but is the prospect of a lost da Vinci, not intriguing?" I ask surprised.
"It's remarkable," Jace jumps in.
"Nope, we'll get to that, this is linear storytelling." Emma interrupts.
I give her a look and continue, "what I was getting at, is that we wanted to trace the origins of those stories, so we talk to people, oral tradition in the Tuscan hills is rich. Emma was in a pre-college program studying in Milano at the time, and came down to meet me for a few days.
"One of the places I was told to go was Fiesole. It's a small town on a hill above Florence. So on this day, we'd gone up to Fiesole. Ostensibly so that Emma could see the ruins, they've got some impressive Roman ruins. But also so that I could visit the town and talk to the locals. So in the morning before heading out to the ruins, we stopped by the market in the square to get some provisions for lunch and I just started chatting with a delightful little old lady who was selling vegetables."
"Mind you, I have no idea whats being said, this is all in Italian, all I know is that before too long we're be introduces to this woman's husband, or brother-" Emma interjects.
"Husband's brother, you'd been in Milano for months, how had you not picked up enough Italian to keep up?"
"Not everyone has your gift for languages sis."
"Wait, languages?" Jace asks, emphasizing the plural. "I know you speak some Italian, but do you speak other languages as well?" he probes further.
"I do, I speak some of, a lot of, languages." I offer.
"She's also too modest, she doesn't speak some Italian, she speaks perfect Italian. And French and Spanish." Emma corrects. "Not to mention German, Polish, Russian, what am I missing?" she finishes, putting the final question to Johnny.
"You missed Arabic and Portuguese. Still off topic." Johnny says, filling in the blanks.
"You guys, I really don't -" I attempt to correct or at least qualify their assessment of my language skills.
"Still off topic." Johnny interrupts, before turning to Jace and say, "perfect Italian." Jace laughs.
I roll my eyes at the pair of them and continue "So I am chatting with our new friend asking about the village, the community and the history and she tells me that her brother-in-law knows all the history there is to know, introduces us and suggests he accompany us to the ruins, which delights me." I say with laughter in my voice, remembering the excitement of solving these mysteries and meeting these storytellers and unsung keepers of history.
Emma picks up where I leave off, filling in and editorializing, I take the opportunity to finish assembling and serve dinner, listening in and interjecting when required. I drop plates in front of the boys and settle back into the conversation. That was a lovely afternoon, Lorenzo, our impromptu guide was a lifelong Fiesolani as was Nonna who was married to his brother Carlo who was stuck at home with a twisted ankle, an injury he sustained working in their families small vineyard which is why Lorenzo was helping Nonna that day. Which he told us was lucky, because Carlo didn't pay attention to the stories when they were growing up. We saw the ruins and the Seminary and Chiesa di San Francesco and all the while Lorenzo wove amazing tales of the events that had happened here. As dusk drew near Lorenzo invited us home for dinner. Pointing out that Badia Fiesolana was on the way.
"I confess, by that time I'd almost forgotten Emma was with me," I interject.
"She admits it! Finally! You're both witnesses?" Emma exuberantly interrupts.
"I was too far under Lorenzo spell." I add wistfully.
"So we follow this guy home and he lives in this ridiculous villa, that's been in his family for decades." Emma continues.
"Century's probably, it really wasn't that extravagant by their standards. We don't have houses quite like that so it seems outlandish to us, but to them it really was a drafty old pile of stones." I point out, "C'mon though, you have to admit it was a lovely evening and a singular dining experience."
"What did you eat?" Jace asks.
"It was beef, with cheese and tomatoes and olives and, what else was on there? Uh. It just all melted in your mouth. It was unbelievable." Emma attempts to describe our authentic Tuscan meal.
"Well, it was a classic Italian meal, so it started with antipasti and pasta, but what Emma is referring to was essentially bistecca alla Fiorentina which if you've never had it is a thick, thick cut of porterhouse. I suspect that steak was butchered that morning and the olives, capers and tomatoes had just been picked as well. I was ambrosia." I say wistfully looking at Jace.
"Say that again." He say with a smile.
"Say what? Ambrosia?" I answer.
"No what you ate."
"Bistecca alla Fiorentina" I say with a self-conscious giggle.
"You really do speak perfect Italian, don't you." He asked.
"Flawless." Johnny answers for me, "and she's too modest to her proficiency with half a dozen other languages but Clary really is remarkably multilingual." He says almost matter of factly before taking another bite of lasagna.
I feel Jace's eye's on me and turn to look at him, he gazes intently and intensely as though he's trying to figure me out. "What?" I ask.
"Nothing, it's just impressive. I struggled to get my levels in French and Latin. And I did pick up some very basic Italian along the way, but I'm not sure I've ever met someone, especially someone so young who speaks some many fluently."
"You flatter me too much," I deflect, "I don't speak them all fluently, passably maybe, but not necessarily in active conversation and some I could read, but not really speak. Besides, its not limited to me Jon speaks a stack of languages too."
"I speak four, and I'm fluent in one, English and some would say I'm barely fluent in that." He said with a self deprecating grin.
"Then was it something your parents were into?" Jace asks, openly curious.
"Um, I wouldn't say that, they were supportive, of course, but I think I just have an ear for it. And really the romance languages all have so much overlap that once you've got one its not hard to pick up the others." I say. "We all took French in school, I took Spanish as well and the combination of the two really paved the way for Latin and Italian. Which was motivated by an unhealthy obsession with renaissance art history. When I got to college and started going down the provenance research rabbit hole I started to realize that the best sources of information were original sources in the original languages because often times translation is open to interpretation. Depending on what you're looking for, information is always open to new interpretations. What?" I finish self consciously because of the way Jace is looking at me, as if I am a rare bird glimpsed in the wild.
"Nothing," He answers with a smile, "you just continue to amaze me."
I feel myself crack a self-deprecating grin and roll my eyes.
"Don't do that, your brilliant, I mean I knew you were smart but I had no idea how smart." He says honestly.
"She is definitely the brains in the family." Emma offers "which begs the question why are you not doing the internship with the MFA's provenance department?"
"What are you talking about?" I ask, confused.
"Mom told me you were offered that internship you wanted at the MFA, but that you didn't think you were gonna take it, what gives? That was your dream job for awhile?" Em clarifies.
"Oh, that. Well, I guess it was, but dreams evolve and the thing is, their process took forever, you realize I applied for that right around the same time I applied for my current job." I explain. "I took them 4 months to make a decision, and I've already made commitments to the Historical Society. Besides, in all honesty, it's work I've done before, perhaps with a few more resources given the stature of the institution, but they're Art Detective is relatively new and young and not going anywhere. It's almost a resume builder that I don't need as long as I manage to stay current in other ways. Which I am."
"Art detective? Is that what they call it?" Jace asks, curiously.
"Well, that's more slang than anything, a way to make it all sound cooler than it is. Art detective makes it sound more like sleuthing around basements and catacombs instead of inventory ledgers and bank records." I laugh.
"And that's what you do at the Historical Society?" He follows up.
"More or less, everything that gets donated needs to have its provenance verified and its value assessed. Historical Societies are different from Museums in that lots of people from all walks of life bequeath a vast array of 'historical objects'. We may get a shovel allegedly used by John Adams on his farm in Quincy passed down for generations through a family and someone has to try and verify the truth of the object's history"
"How would you even do that?" Johnny asks this time, laughing at the ridiculousness of it.
"It's no easy task, I can assure you." I say laughing with him. "But its an interesting challenge, with art, you often have a bit more to go on, the name of the artist or subject, perhaps a view if you're talking about a painting, with a shovel you've got to approach it from a different angle."
"And you enjoy this as much as slogging through Europe talking to every random local you meet?" Em asks
"Em, not everything is slogging through Europe, and it can't be. Like I said, I enjoy the challenge of a new approach, but is this the job I'm going to do for the next 25-30 years? No it's not, but it's valuable experience to hone my skills."
"So what is your dream job?" Jace, this time.
"I don't know. I think to start I'd like to be in house at one of the big Museums, the Met, the Smithsonian, the Louvre, the National Gallery in London. From there move into private consulting, choose my own projects, schedule, rates, be able to help people that aren't affiliated with an auction house or a museum. But for now I like the Historical Society and it affords me the time I need to work with my grad advisor on a publishable edit of my thesis work, Harvard's already expressed interest in publishing it so if that happens it'll be a huge move in the right direction."
"Wow, I didn't know they wanted to publish you?" Johnny asks
"I found out a week or so ago, I'd been working towards that anyway, but yea, they reached out so it actually might happen." I say with a smile, and a shrug like it's no big deal. Johnny and I have talked about this at length, I've shared my fears and insecurities with him so he knows it would be a huge deal. And because he knows me better than anyone he can tell by my inflection that I don't want to get my hopes up or count my chickens before they hatch.
"That's great Clar," he offers his glass to toast, "congratulations on an encouraging first step." Everyone clinks glasses and Johnny refocuses the conversation asking Emma about declaring a major.
The conversation continues to flow and Johnny and Em start to ask Jace more questions, nothing too serious, standard getting to know you stuff and the rest of the evening passed pleasantly until we say our goodbyes. I leave Jace in the kitchen and walk Jon and Emma downstairs. As I hug them each in turn they offer me they're initial impressions of Jace. Emma thinks he's sweet, and I was right, not at all as expected and Johnny offers that he seems nice enough, skepticism layered in his voice, but still it's a good start.
I stand on my stoop watching them get in Johnny's car and drive away, I feel as though a weight has been lifted now that I'm not keeping Jace a secret from the family and at that thought I can't help but smile as I make my way back up to the kitchen to help Jace finish cleaning up.
"So what did you think?" I ask Jace as walk into the kitchen.
"I thought they were lovely." He says diplomatically, looking up from the sink of soapy dishes. "Emma was too funny, when she recognized me, but I honestly had know idea what to do." He continues. "You brother is really interesting as well, not what I expected though."
"What did you expect!?" I say surprised.
"I don't really know, I don't know many military veterans our age truth be told. He was just interesting." he says "Extremely knowledgeable, there was not a topic that came up that he couldn't speak intelligently about and he was so adept at covertly working to determine my intentions. I should take a lesson from him!" He said
"Well he's a natural observer, he takes everything in and files it away somewhere in his brain which just makes him incredibly smart." I explain. "What was he saying?"
"Nothing too specific, he just asked the right questions to steer the conversation on the direction he wanted. But not on a bad way, because the conversation was still two sided." He mused. "It was great to see you through their eyes, and see you all together."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." I say as I dry my hands. "They liked you too and I thought it tonight was fun" turning to put my arms around his neck. "It's nice, letting people in on the secret." I say reaching up to kiss him.
He kisses me tenderly before releasing my lips and whispering "I like it to."
Sorry it took so long. Writer's block I guess.
Hope you're all still out there and I hope you'll all still talk to me.