Christmas dinner comes around soon enough, everyone having pitched in, everyone seemingly happy. Of course, Catherine can see the sad glint in Steve's eyes and she knows he's not short on reasons: Danny and the Ohana on Hawai'i, Mary and Joan in L.A., Joe, Aunt Debbie, his mother being AWOL, his father… she just hopes that her own little Ohana can minimize his pain, if only just a little. As for Steve… he feels at home, here, relaxed, at peace. How much of it is due to the season and the natural good will towards others and general merriment, and how much to the fact that it's Catherine's family, he's not really sure. It's as though he's granted a reprieve from real life, the one that hurts and cuts and bruises, as though the outside world was left exactly there, outside the door, on standby, for just a few days. He's slowly begun to heal his heart, and Catherine, and her family, are playing a big role in that. He silently thanks them for it.
After dinner, the family gathers in the living room and, tonight, "It's a wonderful life" is on TV. Halfway through the movie, Steve excuses himself to call Mary and Joan, first, and then Danny. He thinks of his mother with sadness; even if he wanted to, he wouldn't know how to reach her to wish her a Merry Christmas. He wonders where she may be and what she may be up to, after having received an encrypted text from her that morning. Well, at least she remembered she has two children, he thinks, with sadness. Mary is spending Christmas with friends, her own little Ohana, in L.A. Steve sighs again, with sadness, regretting still not having been able to fully mend his relationship with his sister. He wishes he could see them more often, but his job… is all consuming, he thinks again, with a slight mea culpa. Maybe it's time he made an effort, he thinks, adding that resolution to his upcoming New Year's list. Danny is partially drunk, when he calls; he's at Lou's, since Grace and Charlie will be with him tomorrow. Steve is happy that his brother is in good company and dismisses Danny's concerns about his loneliness with a pang of guilt. He wishes Lou and his family a Merry Christmas, calls Tani and Junior, and retraces his steps back to the living room, relieved that no one asked him any difficult questions.
Just as he's reaching the living room door, he spots Admiral and Mrs. Rollins putting on their coats – they're going to midnight mass. Jimmy is also getting ready to go out, probably to his girlfriend's house. He bids them goodbye and enters the living room, where Peter is nowhere to be seen. Sitting down next to Catherine, he turns to her, with a disarming smile.
"And we meet again… long time."
"Awwwww…. Missed me?"
"Always", he replies, tone both serious and playful. Catherine just smiles at him, sweetly. "What, no exchanging of presents?"
"Well, now, see, in this family, everyone goes to bed early. One Navy man, a Frog, a Doctor and a Psychologist. And me, of course. Traditionally, my parents go to church, both my brothers have fallen asleep on the couch by 10 p.m., and I stay behind, watching Christmas movies. So, we normally exchange presents in the morning. When there's even a quorum, obviously. But this, right here, is my Christmas thing and I absolutely love it.
"So… your brother's gone to sleep?"
"Oh, yeah, like clockwork. He never disappoints," Catherine says, laughing. "Bet you he took a plate of chocolate chip cookies to bed with him, he absolutely loves them. That's another tradition in this house."
"What? Watching him steal the cookies?" he says, smiling mischievously.
"Making them. I know he loves them, so I try to make some, if I'm home. Memories, you know? They're very important. I don't always get to be home, so when I am, I need to make the most of it."
"I hear you… family, right?" Steve says, pensive, turning sad again. "I think one of the reasons Joe decided to let go, that day, was because he didn't have anyone close, in his life… you know, a wife, children, grandchildren… no one to 'miss him'. Had he had those anchors in his life, I'm sure he would've fought harder."
"No, Steve, you can't know that. Didn't you tell me that he was dating a woman in Nairobi?"
"Yeah, but it was probably a recent thing," Steve goes on, not looking her in the eye. "I don't want to be like that, Cath… I want to have reasons to live," he says, turning to her, unable to contain his tears. She cradles him against her chest and rubs circles on his back, soothingly, trying to calm him down. Steve sits back on the couch, eyeing Catherine, finally deciding to ask what he's been dying to ask, now that they're sitting alone, in front of a roaring fire, wrapped in blankets, lulled by a very well-lit Christmas tree.
"Have I thanked you yet?"
Surprise etched on her face. "For what?"
It should be obvious. "Coming to Montana, as soon as you found out."
"You don't have to thank me, Steve. I loved him, too."
"Of course I do, Cath. You have a life. For you to leave everything, at the drop of a hat, and come…"
"I had to. I wanted to pay my respects to Joe and be there, for you. I could imagine how hard you would be taking it all. I guess my feelings of protection spoke louder."
"You, protecting me? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
"Taking care of someone is not only protecting with more muscles and a gun... it's also being there, in silence, if need be, to support the other... make sure he eats, sleeps, doesn't fall apart... and that, I can do much better than you, right now. That's my job. That's also why I left everything and went out to Montana."
"So… basically, to mother-hen me?" Steve says, laughing.
"God, no! You're a bit too grown up to be my child," Catherine chuckles. "And stubborn."
Steve suddenly shifts the tone of the conversation from playful to serious, taking Catherine by surprise, looking her in the eye. "Have you ever thought about it?"
"What, having kids?" she counters, immediately understanding where his mind has gone.
"Yeah..."
"No, not so much, anymore...," her tone is carefree, but he can detect sadness in her eyes. Despite that, he prods further. He may never get another chance; the way she keeps scouring the globe on her missions, he has no idea when he'll see her again.
"But you did, at some point?"
"A lifetime ago, perhaps... it's most people's natural course, I guess…," Catherine says, nostalgia colouring her features. She's thinking about her previous Hawai'i life, where she had pictured herself having his children. It's as though all that domesticity was laid to rest the day she left, and any other man she might date in her life would have to settle for a different Catherine, the secret agent looking for terrorists, always on the go, but never the mother and wife. That role was once reserved for him. And it's not happening anymore in this lifetime, she sighs as she remembers why.
"Why not anymore?"
"You do know the work I do, right?"
"You mean..."
"Yes, I mean. The Spy-I-A, as Danny likes to call it. The Agency. The Big Bad Wolf. They do good work, you know? Save a lot of lives..."
Deep sigh. She's defending herself. Probably partially explaining why she left. "I know, Cath. And I'm sure it's a better place for having you in it."
Relief evident in her features. At least they can talk about it, now. "Thanks."
"So... kids? Have you totally written them off your life's narrative?"
"I guess... I'd have to make a choice, wouldn't I?"
"And... you love your job too much?"
"I've grown accustomed to it, you know? Can't see myself doing a 180 and being stuck behind a desk for the remainder of my days..."
"But isn't that par for the course?"
"What do you mean? Because I'm getting older?"
"No... Because you're evolving? You know, taking on more responsibilities, climbing the ladder? You'll eventually be offered a supervisory role, am I right?"
"God, I hope not!"
"Why? You want to keep risking your life on missions? What is this force that compels you?"
"You're kidding... you're asking ME that?" she smiles, not a hint of aggressiveness.
"I'm just trying to understand, Cath…"
"It's the nature of the job... YOU still risk your life, every single day, right?"
Now it's his turn to feel the need to defend himself and his actions. "I'm taking a back seat from a lot of the physical work, I'll have you know..."
A heartfelt laugh erupts from her lips. "Wow, now THAT I never expected to hear..."
"Yeah. Exactly. I've lost a lot of my health to the job and at some point we start to question ourselves - is it all worth it? Giving up our personal lives for the job? We must grow, be a little selfish, and want something of our own... Why can't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Kids - why not?"
"Like I already said, job... why are you fixated on this?"
"And like I already said, no job in this world should prevent you from having a baby, if that's what you want..."
"And then there's the other matter, you know, biology..."
"Meaning?"
"Oh, you know. I can't exactly do a single production here, like sea horses..." She chuckles at his surprised face. "It takes two."
"Oh, these days? You're kidding," he dismisses her with a flick of the hand.
"Call me conservative, but I'm not too crazy about the idea of bringing a child into this world who will, in turn, have no father... and thinking about going at it alone simply doesn't rock my boat. I have my job to keep me busy, it fulfills me well enough. Plus, my brothers will eventually have kids of their own. I'll have nephews."
Thinking about himself, he is adamant. "It's NOT the same thing..."
"No, but in the end, the day only has 24 hours... and I get to help children in a different way..."
"And in here?" Steve points to his heart. "Is it all the same?"
"What...?"
"Empty heart at present... full heart with a man and a baby?"
"Oh, my God, that's so... backwards!" Catherine says, laughing wholeheartedly. "So conservative!"
"I'm simply following your reasoning, young lady", Steve says, eyeing her again.
Catherine catches a glimpse of seriousness in Steve's eyes and is not sure what exactly they're talking about. She realises, suddenly, that she has a choice – deflect or delve into it, and she's not sure she wants to go there. Not with how they stand, at present. She breathes heavily and looks at him sideways, realising that since he asked, she may as well reply and satisfy his curiosity. She's in a sharing mood, rocked by the liquour she consumed at dinner. They're friends, after all, right?
"Look, in my mind, a child is a consequence of a relationship between two people. Who love each other and have a life project together. That child is the result of their love and is meant to be raised by both parents, together. I have no one in my life, right now - like I said, the job takes up all my free time - so I don't even possess the stepping stones to this baby thing you speak of: time and a father. What's the point of even thinking about it?"
"Cath, you're being very one-track minded. You were in the Navy. You made an active decision to leave. You joined the CIA. Another active decision," Steve says, sighing, leaving the obvious remainder of the sentence unsaid. "If you wanted to have a baby, you'd simply make that decision and move accordingly, right?"
"I guess... but then there's the other part. I don't want to go at it alone. I simply don't want a baby that badly..."
"I see. And I understand. But… if you were dating?"
"Who knows? It would have to come from the inside, you know, an itch you had to scratch..." Catherine says, with a levity she definitely does not feel. In the confessional atmosphere they've conjured, she decides to satisfy her own curiosity. "How about you? Ever wanted?" she asks, thinking "in for a penny, in for a pound". They may as well talk about it now, since they never did, when they were together.
"Sure... there's one woman I could see myself having kids with...", Steve says, looking intently at Catherine as she pushes a piece of invisible lint out of her trousers, trying actively not to think of Lynn and failing miserably, an image of her face popping up in her mind's eye. She looks up and smiles encouragingly, all the while feeling her heart break.
"I understand. None of us are getting any younger, right? You'll make a wonderful father, make no mistake."
"Yeah, well, I'm not so sure about that... didn't exactly have the best role models..." he casts his eyes down, thinking back to his mother.
"Come on, Steve, you realise what you're saying? You're a great human being, kind, always willing to help your fellow man, selfless, competent, understanding, tolerant, sweet and adorable when you want to be... any child would be super lucky to have you as a father. Trust me on this," Catherine says, smiling sweetly.
"And you as a mother, Cath... and you as a mother," he throws back at her, with a smile he doesn't realise he reserves only for her.
"Thanks. You're very kind for saying that."
"It's the truth", Steve says, placing an arm around her shoulders and making her lean into him. They spend the next half hour watching the movie in silence, thinking about the conversation they just had and the ramifications of it. Catherine can't help but think that they've crossed a hitherto forbidden border of some kind, by talking so openly about something that is so personal, but also that might have very easily involved them both, on a not so distant past. Come to think of it, she's not really sure of what exactly Steve meant by all his questions, and the thought leaves her uneasy and feeling awkward.
By the end of the movie, Steve has also fallen asleep, leaning against her shoulder. "Weak Christmas men," she thinks, amused, as she flicks through the channels for another classic to take her late into the night.