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The Portrait
Part 12
Taking another sip from his coffee pot Milliardo flipped a new page in the photo album he was looking through. Early this morning after spending the first in, what was now truly his house, he had climbed up to the attic in the search for old pictures. He had found plenty of photos, stored in pretty little boxes or albums like this one. From grainy gray pictures taken around the turn of the last century over more modern black and white photos all the way to the most recent color photographs, they showed his grandparents, his father as a child and on the day he got married, and even him and his sister while they were growing up. Even though family memories were not what he had been searching for, he couldn't help but smile when he looked at them.
There was the first picture of him and Relena, taken only hours after she came home from the hospital. He could still remember the moment when his parents told him that he was going to have a little sister. I wonder if mom or dad ever told her how I had cried because they wouldn't get me a little brother instead. Or about that time when I was trying to trade her to the neighbors for one of their puppies.
The sound of the doorbell ringing ripped Milliardo from his memories. He checked his watch. Almost ten, that must be Treize.
The older man had called the night before asking if it was alright for him to come by and deliver a little housewarming gift in the morning. Milliardo didn't even realize that he was smiling when he hurried to open the door.
Treize was smiling, too; standing at the top of the stairs with a potted orchid and little wrapped package in his hands. "Good morning, I hope I didn't make you get up earlier than you intended to."
"Not at all," the younger man replied. "I'm not one to sleep away half of my weekend."
"Oh good, me neither. Ah yes, these are for you." The professor handed him the flowers and the gift box.
"Thank you. You really shouldn't have."
"Oh, it's nothing."
"Um… would you like to come in?" Milliardo finally asked and felt somewhat awkward about it. He surely didn't have any problem talking to Treize that night at the club, so why was he feeling nervous? Perhaps it was because of Alexander, he told himself. Even after their little 'heart to heart talk' he couldn't be exactly sure how his ghostly roommate would react. "I'll have to warn you so; it's still all a little disorganized."
"I'd love to." Treize smiled softly. "And don't worry I'm not here to judge your housekeeping skills."
As the two men walked into the house Milliardo noticed with a certain degree of relief that he couldn't feel Alexander's presence around. Apparently he had retreated up into the attic where he seemed to spend most of his day. As long as he wasn't starting to play the piano while Treize was still here, that was just fine with him.
The blond led his guest into the kitchen, the only room downstairs that wasn't packed with moving boxes and crates. He set the orchid down on the sill of one of the large bay windows and looked at the rectangular box in his hand. It was big enough to hold a bottle of wine but wasn't heavy enough for that. "May I open it?" he asked curiously.
"Absolutely," the older man nodded.
Ripping away the white and silver paper Milliardo revealed a box printed with the logo of one of the cities' more upscale house ware stores. For some reason it didn't surprise him much. Treize didn't strike him as the man who had ever set foot into a discount place. He opened the box, eying the item inside with slight puzzlement. "Oh look, it's a…"
"… steak brand," the older man helped him out.
"Oh yes, of course it is." Milliardo couldn't say he had ever heard of a steak brand, but it did actually look like a small version of one of those brand irons he had seen cowboys use to mark their cattle. And this one carried his initials, MP.
Treize seemed very pleased with himself. "Since you already lived in your own apartment before I figured you probably own most of the essential things and I hated to buy you something that you already have. But I remembered seeing a BBQ out in the backyard when I was here the first time, and with that beautiful garden you have you are probably bound to have a lot of summer parties…" he trailed off as he noticed the somewhat 'reserved' look on the younger man's face. "You don't like it, do you? But that's okay. I included a gift receipt so you can go and exchange it for something else without problem."
"No, no, I do want to keep it," Milliardo quickly assured him. "It's very…unique. And you are right; I definitely don't have one of those yet. So," he continued as he set the box down on the counter, "can I get you something, or would you like to take the 'obligatory' tour of the house first?"
It didn't take Treize long to decide. "If you don't mind I'd love to cash in that rain check for a cup of your coffee. I was having breakfast at the hotel this morning and it never ceases to amaze me how they can charge you a fortune for what tastes like last night's dishwater."
The younger man laughed. "In that case, I think you deserve two cups. Why don't you take a seat?"
"I'd be forever in your dept." the professor joked.
So," Milliardo asked as he got the coffee maker ready. "You are still living at the Hyatt? I'm surprised you haven't been able to find a house yet. It seems like I'm seeing for sales signs all the time all over town."
"To tell the truth," Treize admitted. "I haven't put much effort in finding one yet. I'm in no hurry really. Aside from their lousy coffee the Hyatt is not as bad place to live. Convenient too. When I come home after school suite is clean."
"I see," the younger man nodded. While the coffee was brewing he quickly gathered the pictures and albums he had looked through earlier from the table. "I was searching through some old things this morning," he explained.
When one of the photos slipped from his hand and fell to the floor Treize bend down to pick it up. A tiny smirk formed on his lips as he studied the picture.
"How cute, is that you and your sister?"
"Yes, she must have been three months old or so and Mother finally allowed me to hold her."
"She has grown quite a bit and so have you. I met her in class last week, it didn't take an introduction to know you are siblings, she has your personality. And she is quite beautiful."
"Hey," the blond glared at the older man playfully. "She is my little sister, so stay away from her."
"Aside from the fact that she is a little too young for me, I am her teacher."
"You are also my teacher."
"Point taken." The professor laughed, and while Milliardo removed some cups and saucers from the cupboard he changed the subject. "So, did you have a big move-in party last night?"
"No, not yet. I'm planning it for next week, the beginning of spring break."
"Ah yes, spring break." Treize nodded. "I almost forgot about it. Are you planning to travel south?"
"With a few thousand other party crazy high school and college students? " Milliardo gave a short laugh. "No thanks, not my idea of fun. Besides, I'm planning on using the free time to spruce up this place; painting and stuff. In fact that's why I was going through those old pictures this morning. I'd really like to restore the house, at least on the outside to its original form. I think it must have been very beautiful once."
"Any luck?"
"Of course not," the young man sighed as he poured the coffee. "Sugar, cream?"
"Just cream or milk, whatever you got will do," Treize told him. "So, where lays the problem?"
"In the fact that color photography didn't exist back then and I can't seem to find any old paintings or such of the house."
"I think, I might be able to help."
Milliardo frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I remember a painting that's in my family's possession, it was passed down through my father's side and as far as I know it still hangs somewhere at one of our summer houses. I'll call my mother and have someone take a good photo of it."
"A painting of this house?" the young man's frown deepened.
Now it was Treize's turn to sigh. "I'm afraid I was not completely honest with you up until now," he admitted as he stirred his coffee absentmindedly.
Milliardo didn't say a word, just looked at him questioningly.
"Let's just say, that day when I knocked at your door for the first time it wasn't quite by accident," Treize explained. "I did forget my cell phone in the taxi cab; that part is true, and that became a most convenient excuse for me, to take a closer look at this house."
"Why?"
The older man gave another sigh. "This is a little more complicated to explain," he admitted. "You see, I didn't pick up teaching history because I hate it. And one's family history is probably the most interesting one of all. Even as a child I was intrigued by stories about my ancestors and the way they lives. That painting I mentioned made me want to see the house it was drawn from. All I knew was that someone in my father's family once used to live in it. When I got older I did some more research about that and finally, after I had to leave active duty I took the time to come here and see it. I fell in love with it the moment I laid eye in it. When one of the neighbors told me that it was standing empty since the last owner died I was delighted. That's when I also visited Marymount for the first time and applied for a teaching job. Unfortunately they didn't have an open position for me back then and I went back to Kings Point. When I finally returned I realized with some degree of disappointment, that someone was already living here. So I wanted to meet you. Needless to say," Treize smirked. "I got over my disappointment very quick when you opened the door."
"Are you always that smooth?" Milliardo snorted in amusement. "But I still don't understand. I bet you can trace your family tree for many generations, there have to be many, many houses in which ancestors of yours resided. So, why did you go through such lengths for this one?"
"I suppose another confession is in order."
"Another one?"
"You asked me about Alexander Khushrenada, right. And I shrugged it off, saying he was a distant relative I barely knew about. The truth is, Alexander was my great grandfather."
"Impossible!" Milliardo exclaimed before he even knew it.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I mean… Alexander didn't have any children."
"What…how…?" Now Treize was the one looking puzzled.
"Well, I wasn't totally honest with you either, I'm afraid," the younger man admitted. "When I asked you about Alexander, I told you that I got his name off the social page of an old newspaper. Nothing could be further from the truth. Several weeks ago I was going through some old trunks and boxes in the attic and came across a diary that belonged to my great grandfather, along with some letters, a portrait of Alexander and some other personal things. Apparently the two of them were… good friends and from my great grandfather's journal and their correspondence I learned quite a bit about Alexander."
"I see." The professor nodded. "Would you mind telling me what it is you know…or think you know about him?"
"I'm not sure what exactly you want me to tell you, but to make a long story short from what I've read he moved here after a falling out with his family. He served in the navy and while he was at sea, the woman he was betrothed to married his conniving brother. After that he didn't want to have anything to do with either of them. He made himself a new life, made new friends and moved on. Unfortunately it seems he wasn't much luckier at his second attempt of love either. But maybe I'm wrong about that…"
"I'm afraid that's not the only thing you are wrong about. But that's not surprising. The Khushrenada family has always been very diligent in protecting their privacy."
"Well maybe you can enlighten me then and tell me what part I got wrong." Milliardo wasn't sure who he suddenly felt so defensive.
Either Treize didn't notice the cynical undertone in his voice or
he just chose to ignore it. "Alexander was the youngest of three
brothers, one of which died in his early teens. He followed in his
father's footsteps and joined the navy straight out of school. Yes,
he was engaged to my great-grandmother Elizabeth von Haagen. It was
an arrange marriage that would have benefited both families, but that
didn't matter because apparently the two of them were deeply in
love. No date for the wedding had been set yet because Alexander had
to finish what we would call these days his 'Tour of Duty'. When
his ship left for South America it was hard to say when they would be
back. Still depending on the wind, maritime could be very
unpredictable back then. At best it would have taken them 6 or 7
months and in the worse case he could have been gone for a year… or
have never returned. I'm sure Elizabeth intended to wait for her
lover for as long as it took, but only a few weeks after he had left
she found out that she was carrying his child.
Back then for an
unwed woman to have a child was one of biggest taboos, and it could
have ruined her and her family socially. So when she broke the news
to her father, he and my great-great-grandfather decided that there
was only one thing to do; to keep her condition a secret long enough
for her to get married. Since Alexander wasn't around to step up to
the plate, his brother did what he considered the honorable thing,
married Elizabeth and pretended the child she carried was his…"
Milliardo suddenly felt a deep chill behind his back. Alexander, he realized. I didn't even notice him approach. How long has he been here, and how much did he hear? For a moment there he was worried that the ghost might do something unpredictable. But somehow he didn't really sense any anger from Alexander, more like he was just surprised or shocked. And so the young man asked quietly: "Alexander never knew about it, did he?" he asked quietly.
"No, I don't think he ever found out."
"Why didn't anyone ever tell him?"
Treize shrugged. "Because he was a true Khushrenada, I suppose; hotheaded, and proud to the bone. He stormed out of the house and never spoke to anyone in the family again. Also I believe that his father did not want anyone to speak of it as long as he lived. So after my great-great grandfather died, Julian tried to contact his brother but every letter he sent was returned unopened. And then a few years later Alexander suddenly died and after that there was no reason for anyone ever to know the secret. Julian raised his brother's son as his own together with the two children he and Elizabeth had together."
Oh Alexander, Milliardo's' heart went out to him. I wish there was anything I could say or do.
He turned his head only to realize that the presence behind him had slipped away as unnoticed as it had appeared. I suppose even a ghost needs some alone time after this kind of news. I can hardly even imagine how he must feel right now. He had a son he never knew of and a grandson as well. But wait… that would mean…"
"So then, you really are Alexander's great-grandson?"
"Absolutely," Treize nodded. "That's why I'm carrying his name. And I have been told that I have his looks and personality as well," he added with a tiny smirk.
"Oh, you have no idea," Milliardo mumbled, earning himself a questioning look from the other man.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Nothing… just talking to myself."
The older man took a sip from his coffee before he looked up and asked: "Milliardo, earlier you mentioned something about a diary and some letters and pictures. Is there any way I could take a look at them? I really don't know as much about him as I would like and I'd love to find out more."
"Um… yes I suppose so," Milliardo kind of hesitated. The diary letters were up in the attic; for some reason Alexander always returned them there, perhaps to safeguard them like he had for so many years. He wasn't sure if he wanted to disturb the ghost right now, but then again maybe it was a good idea to check in on him. "I'll go get them."
"Thanks."
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Author's Note:
