December 24 - Candle
She says nothing when she slips into the pew beside him, simply offering a small smile and a delicate squeeze of his arm. It's not that she can't speak, the church isn't full by any stretch and she can make out delicate whispers from some of the others scattered throughout the sanctuary, but it feels right not to.
"Hi, Katie," her father murmurs, covering her hand with his and squeezing her fingers. "Thanks for joining me."
"Hi Dad," she breathes, careful not to break the spell. "Thanks for inviting me."
This is something he usually does on his own and has since the year Lily was born and his traditional month at the cabin had started to feel more like a sentence than a respite. The first time he'd told her, she'd been surprised to hear that he'd found his way to a church on Christmas Eve morning. Their family hadn't been particularly religious when she was growing up, only attending if her grandparents wanted them to but not making it a priority the rest of the time. She can understand why her father appreciates it now, though.
There's a peace in the building that transcends years of agnosticism, that wraps around her shoulders like the blanket Castle drapes over her on hard days. A warmth that starts in her chest and flows through her veins. There's an understanding she didn't have before, a hope.
Jim smiles, looking back toward the altar. The first service of the day doesn't start for another couple of hours, but the church is open for prayers and for anyone seeking shelter or solace while the priest moves around conducting his own prayers and preparation.
"They'll add more flowers before the evening services," her father says, keeping his voice low. She nods, sweeping her eyes over the smattering of poinsettias at the front of the church. "They'll have white ones and even some of the gold-painted ones your mom used to love."
Kate squeezes his arm. Her mom had loved poinsettias, traditional and artsy alike, going out of her way each year to get the largest one she could find and displaying it on their kitchen table. It would just end up shriveled and dry by the end of the season, but that never stopped Johanna, and it certainly never deterred her the next year.
"It's beautiful," she says. "It's all beautiful. I can see why you like it here, Dad."
Sunlight filters through the stained-glass windows, bathing some of the pews throughout the room in color. A band of pink flits over her father's hand where it rests on the bench in front of them. Kate smiles; Lily would find that delightful, would chase after each sliver of color to see how it looks against her skin.
"I was thinking," her father begins a few minutes later, after the church bell has chimed and played through a series of Christmas carols. "If the offer's still open, maybe I could join you and Rick today? Give you the chance to do any last-minute shopping if you need it, or to just catch your breath before the festivities tonight and tomorrow."
Kate lifts her eyes to his, finding her father watching her with soft eyes.
"If you'd rather just have the time as a family, just you, I understand."
"No," she says quickly. "I mean, no we don't need it to be just the five of us – if there is such a thing as just the five of us when there are five of us. You're always welcome, Dad; the offer never expires." It comes out in a rush, impassioned and hopeful.
She never pushes him, never expects anything of him. She knows how hard it is for her father because this time of year is difficult for her still, even after the joy of being with Castle, becoming his wife, having Lily and Reece and Jake. She never wants to make her father feel as if his place in her life or her kids' lives is conditional upon his participation in Christmas, but her heart thunders hard against her sternum at the thought of having him with them for the whole holiday.
"In that case-"
Her father's next words are cut off by the thud of something hitting the door to the narthex and a loud, clear little voice,
"Daddy, I don't see her!"
Kate huffs a laugh, dropping her chin toward her chest. "My child, ladies and gentlemen."
Castle's response is nothing more than a low murmur, but it must be enough for Lily because she hears her daughter's attempt at a whisper.
"Da candles are here, an' Mommy's not here."
Glancing over her shoulder, she sees her husband's tall form, Lily hovering at his side. She assumes the stroller is there too, just hidden behind the half wall that separates the narthex from the sanctuary.
"I told them I was coming to light a candle for Mom," she says. "I didn't mention I'd be meeting you because Lily absolutely would've wanted to come."
Jim shakes his head. "She could've come too. Everyone is welcome, Katie. This isn't some sort of morose memorial exercise for me, it's just… a bit of calm in all the chaos."
Her lips curl upward. She knows exactly what he means and where he's coming from. In the past, she'd worked on Christmas, seeking solace in standing sentinel over the precinct. After she got married, she would spend part of the morning doing something her mother would've loved: greeting the sun from the roof or the window seat in the office.
Now her Christmas Eves are all about making her mom's favorite treats with Rick and the kids and being sure that there are cookies and milk for Santa and that the presents are ready to go. It's a different way of remembering her mom, one she hopes Johanna would appreciate.
"Come on, Katie," her father says, reaching behind him for his coat and draping it over his arm. "Let's go light a candle for your mom."
She nods, slipping out of the pew and into the aisle. She makes it just a few steps down before Lily spots her.
"Mommy!"
Kate puts a finger to her lips as Lily comes running. "Hi Little Flower," she whispers, scooping her up and pressing her lips to the girl's hair. "We need to use our super quiet inside voices while we're in here, okay?"
"Dat's what Daddy said, too," Lily sighs.
She laughs softly, nodding. "Daddy's right. But I'm glad you're here, baby. And so is Grandpa."
Lily lights up, twisting in her arms and looking over her shoulder to find Jim. "Gwampa!" she breathes, waving. "Gwampa, hi!"
Jim waves back. "Hi, sweetheart."
"Mommy's wighting a candle fo' Gwamma," Lily says as Kate carries her back toward Rick and the boys. "An' m' gonna wight one too," she announces.
Castle looks a little bit sheepish as they near, apologizing to her once she's close enough to hear. "She wouldn't take no for an answer," he adds, dropping a kiss on Kate's mouth.
Kate rubs Lily's back quickly before lowering her to her feet. The girl bounds over to Jim, flinging her little arms around his waist. "That's okay," she assures, rubbing her husband's side through his coat. "We're both glad you're here."
She dips, kissing her sons and accepting their sloppy attempts at returning the affection. "Hi sweet boys. Grandpa's going to come to the park with us today, and then maybe we can convince him to help us make our cake balls."
Behind her, Jim groans. "Oh, Katie, not those cake balls."
She grins, winking at the boys. "Definitely those cake balls; they're a favorite."
Straightening up again, she catches Castle's hand and squeezes. "Ready to light our candles, Lil?" she asks, turning to Lily and her father.
Her daughter nods eagerly, grabbing Jim's fingers and tugging him over to the table. "Uh huh," she breathes as Kate joins them and lifts her onto her hip.
She shows Lily how to hold the thin candle, how to light it using one of the others that burns already. Her lips brush her daughter's cheek as Lil wiggles the end of candle into the sand, wishing for the millionth time or more that her mother could be here to see all of this – her father, her life, Lily, Jake and Reece, and Castle himself.
Rick's fingers skim her shoulder, sliding down the line of her spine to rest on her hip. She feels his lips brush her head as tears prick the corners of her eyes and her throat tightens.
"Great job, Sprout," he praises for her, giving her the chance to take a deep breath and get herself to a place where she can speak again. "C'mere, let's give Mommy and Grandpa the chance to take their turn."
"She's okay," Kate murmurs, looking back at him. His hand flexes against her hip, but he nods and steps back. "I think I'll light my candle from Lily's. How does that sound?" she asks, doing exactly that even before Lily nods her approval.
Jim does the same a moment later, looping an arm around Kate's shoulders and pulling her and Lily closer. Kate exhales, allowing his hard-fought peace to permeate her being.
"Okay," he says, rubbing her arm. "I heard something about a park visit. Why don't we stop for some food on the way there? My treat."
Lily agrees for them, grinning at Jim's chuckle.
"Sounds great, Dad."
She hands her squirming child over to her father as well, watching him light up as they leave the church together.
Just the six of them.
Thank you all so much. I hope you've enjoyed coming with me on this little journey through a Castle holiday. While I know it's the "12" prompts of Christmas, I'll have an extra 13th chapter for you tomorrow because I felt like building up to Christmas just wasn't enough. Have a safe and wonderful evening!