"He didn't!" Grace breathed, astounded.
"You can ask him yourself," Kate insisted, widening her eyes for effect. "Tony's always doing stupid stuff like that. Everything they say about girls maturing faster than guys? It's true."
"So, when a guy does something really dumb," Grace began, trying to appear casual while twisting her fingers nervously in the grass, "it's normal?"
Taking a bite of her sandwich to allow herself time to formulate a response, Kate hid a smile as she chewed. It sounded to her like Grace had a little crush. "It is completely normal," she reassured the teen. "Not only that, but it may mean he likes you," she added with a conspiratorial smile.
Grace ducked her head embarrassedly. "I…don't think so."
"So, who is this guy?" Kate pressed. "School friend?"
"Yeah," Grace responded, her face slowly clouding. "Or at least, he was."
Kate could almost feel the chill settle over their little picnic. Wonderful. Grace had been adjusting quite well over the past few weeks, the short spells of anger and unease tempered by increasingly satisfying periods of bonding – if not as mother and daughter, at least as friends. Kate's work occupied a considerable amount of time, but a grudgingly understanding Gibbs had granted her weekends as semi-sacred time. Kate had come to look forward to their almost weekly picnics in various parks around the area and she was pretty sure Grace enjoyed the time together as well, even if she didn't always show it.
Now, though, was turning into a 'little moment'. Grace's stony silences were no longer as frequent but their occurrences were nevertheless not enjoyable times in the small household. Kate sighed and began to clean up the area. Progress and bonding were out of the question during these periods.
She opened her mouth to ask Grace to help but reconsidered. The girl was already in a lot of pain, obviously, and it was mostly Kate's fault. Why add to it? She had been struggling with this question since Grace had first come to live with her. Her instinct to be a firm disciplinarian was curbed by her sympathy for Grace's situation.
When they got back to the apartment, Grace went straight to her room and shut the door with slightly more force than necessary. Kate sighed again (she seemed to be sighing a lot lately) and took their picnic gear to the kitchen. After she cleaned up, she noticed yesterday's mail sitting on the table and decided it was time to deal with it. Sifting through the usual junk, she arrived at the phone bill and slit it open…and her eyes widened in shock.
"What the…" she muttered to herself. 719? What area code is that? The unknown number had been dialed several times, the calls lasting a considerable amount of time. They appeared to be the main contributor to the hefty sum at the top of the bill.
"Grace!" Kate called, trying not to sound angry. And she wasn't angry…yet.
"Yeah?" Grace answered, shuffling into the room indifferently.
"Do you recognize this number?" Kate asked, showing Grace the bill.
"Sure. That's Uncle Jack."
Kate tried to keep her rising frustration in check. "Were you going to tell me about these long distance calls you've been making?"
Grace shrugged, eyes defiant. "I dunno."
"Young lady, I'm not made of money," Kate said firmly.
"Fine. I'll cut off all contact with my former life," Grace snapped back.
"I don't mind you calling your uncle, Grace," Kate said, softening slightly. "I just want you to ask me first."
"Whatever."
Something else occurred to Kate. "Why were you calling him anyway?"
Grace shrugged again, looking down.
"Come on, Grace. I'm won't be mad," Kate pushed.
"Because he understands me," Grace mumbled, still staring at her feet.
Kate sat back, stunned. She shouldn't be, she knew, but it still hurt that Grace didn't feel like she could talk to her. It was just more confirmation that their relationship would take a lot of time and work.
"Grace," she began, "I'm sorry you don't feel like you can talk to me. I want to talk to you; I want to understand you. Will you let me try?"
Grace looked at her incredulously, trademark eyebrow on the rise.
"Tell you what," Kate suggested, "every time you need to call your Uncle Jack, try to talk to me about it first. If that doesn't work out, then you can call him. On that new calling card we'll be buying you," she added in consideration of her wallet. "Sound good?"
Grace considered it briefly, then nodded. "Okay, deal."
Peace reigned in the apartment…for about two days. Kate was feeling good about Grace, work, herself – life in general – and decided to take Grace out to dinner to celebrate their newfound (and, admittedly, awkwardly fledgling) ability to talk. Grace agreed readily and they found themselves at a cozy Italian restaurant that evening. The conversation was going smoothly, until…
"Aunt Kate," Grace started hesitantly, "what happened to my father?"
Kate froze, forkful of spaghetti halfway to her mouth. Lowering the utensil slowly, she wondered what on earth she could say. She wasn't ready to tell Grace the truth but she didn't want to lie.
"Why do you want to know?" she asked, settling for dodging the question.
Grace didn't fall for it but something, perhaps the pain in Kate's eyes, made her back off. "Just curious," she answered, shrugging with unconvincing indifference.
"Huh," Kate responded, unsure of what else to say.
"What was his name?" Grace asked, looking torn between curiosity and restraint.
"Grace," Kate sighed painfully, "can we please not talk about this now?"
"I promise I'll drop it, just," Grace pleaded, "what was his name?"
Kate knew the girl had a right to know. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to calm herself. "Dom…Dominic Fleming," she breathed.
Grace's face said she had a million more questions but, true to her word, she returned silently to her pasta. Except for brief comments on the meal, they said nothing for the rest of the evening.
"Hey, Tony," Kate called. "Ducky and I are going out for lunch. Wanna come?"
Tony looked over at her, then back at his computer screen. "Actually, Kate, I have an interview with a witness."
Kate's surprise was evident. "You're opting for work over lunch?"
"I was trained by Gibbs, you know," he tossed back unconvincingly.
"Yeah, and that's had such an effect on your work ethic before," she retorted sarcastically.
"Well, maybe I'm more mature than you think," Tony replied, still not satisfying Kate. She approached his desk, craning her neck to see his computer. He swiveled the monitor away from her, swatting at her hands as she tried to turn it back.
"Hey! You're invading my privacy, here," he barked.
"Oh, you're one to talk, Tony," she said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, what's on that screen?"
"Nothing!" he insisted, holding up his hands as if to show her he had nothing to hide. She took advantage of his motion to grab the monitor and twist it into a viewable position.
"Aha! Is that your witness?" she crowed, eyeing the photo of a young and well-endowed blonde.
"Yes," Tony muttered sullenly, sore at being beaten by Kate.
"Well, now I know why you don't want to come to lunch," Kate snorted. "Have fun."
She grabbed her purse and headed toward the elevator. The doors opened to reveal Ducky, out of his scrubs, apparently coming to get her.
"Ah, Caitlin," he said, beckoning her into the car. "Is Tony joining us?"
"Nah, he has a 'witness' to interview," Kate smirked.
Ducky chuckled. "Of course. The two of us it is, then. I hope you have a taste for Thai food. I know a delightful little place not too far from here. You know, of course, that Thailand was once known as Siam…"
Kate listened with half an ear, her mind mostly on Grace. The girl had been questioning Kate more and more about her father and Kate was running out of things to tell her. Even if she was able to talk about the Incident, she was convinced that telling Grace she was the product of rape was not a good idea. But she kept asking…
Something of her distress must have shown on her face, because Ducky suddenly stopped talking and gazed into her eyes concernedly.
"How are things going with Grace?" he asked sincerely. His tone was different than that of most people when they asked that question; Kate could tell he really wanted to know and wasn't just asking for conversation's sake.
She sighed heavily. "It's a bit of a roller coaster, to be honest. One minute we're talking and laughing, the next she won't speak to me because I took away the life she's always known. I'm just trying to hang on at this point. And now," Kate added, because she trusted Ducky, "she keeps asking about her father. I don't know what to tell her." Kate didn't elaborate. She trusted Ducky but hadn't yet felt comfortable telling him about Grace's origin.
Ducky nodded seriously. "May I tell you a story, Caitlin?"
Kate hid a smile despite her current angst. Ducky rarely asked permission to tell a story. "Sure, Ducky," she agreed.
"I once knew a young lady, about, oh, 15 years ago. She was a beautiful woman and many of her male colleagues were very interested in her. One night, she went out with a fellow she found quite attractive. He was not a particularly scrupulous young man, though, and after he had consumed a considerable amount of alcohol, my friend was beginning to get concerned about his intentions. Indeed, he soon became belligerent and forced himself on her. She fought but being rather petite and slightly inebriated herself, there was really nothing she could do. About a month later, she realized that she was with child."
Kate gawked at Ducky. How did he know? She found that she didn't really mind that he knew; in fact, it was kind of comforting.
"Caitlin," he continued, "if you ever need to talk about anything, you know where to find a willing ear."
"Thanks, Ducky," she replied honestly, tears threatening to form. "Really." He smiled supportively at her.
"Oh, my, would you look at the time!" he commented, glancing at his watch. "I'd quite lost track. Well, my dear, I suppose Jethro will be wanting us back. Shall we?"
Kate took his proffered arm and walked back to the car with him. She found herself, like Grace at the benefit, grateful for a friend in this ordeal.