Disclaimer: I don't own any O.C.-related - only the characters I may invent during the writing of the story - they're all FOX's property.. thanxx 2U, guys
Autor's note: Thanks a lot to Leentje and "Jan". Please stick with me although I'm posting a little slower. And now: Hope you enjoy this. It's a little.. different, maybe a little fluffy.. but it's all about different moods, isn't it?
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Sandy decided to dress the table outside on the patio for breakfast. A look outside the kitchen window had convinced him that their guest seemed to enjoy the warm sunlight pretty much. She had been sitting in the grass on the far side of the lawn andat that moment stood up to peek over the hedge towards the cliffs, shielding her eyes with one hand.
He'd checked her file earlier this morning, but only for short data. He'd found information from child-service and the usual personal information: Age, date of birth, parents' names, her brother – but nothing that evoked the impression of a criminal career.
While the coffee machine made it's usual bubbling noise, Sandy piled everything he considered necessary upon the counter, then started to carry everything outside.
Cat spotted him and walked over. "May I help you with.. what you're doing?" Sandy nodded approvingly. "Sure! Thank you. Just follow me."
Inside he motioned to several cupboards and a drawer. "You could bring out the plates and knives, spoons.. well, you know. Cups over there.." "How many?" He furrowed his impressive eyebrows. "Five, I think, uhm.. have you heard when our son, Seth arrived last night? By any chance? I mean, I think he's back." Cat slowly shook her head, sporting an innocent look. "Sorry. Should I?" "Only if he tried to be stealth. Never works. Have you met him already?" "No, not yet. But I hear he's.. special. Nice." "Special? Yeah..", he stretched the word, "that's probably a good word. Who told you?" "Alex did. The manager of the Bait Shop." "Yes, I know Alex! She's an amazing young woman. She and Seth were dating a few times, but.. you know. Teenagers." She nodded, smiling, as if she had kids, too, Sandy noticed to his amusement while correcting himself in his mind: Teenage sons who unfortunately try to get over the love of their life by the aid of a bisexual, far more mature young woman.
Together they finished dressing the patio table, then Sandy offered her a mug of coffee. She accepted it gratefully, looked into it, then up to him, appearing a little ashamed. "Uhm.. do you have milk? Sorry.." "Oh! My fault, no problem." He hurried to the fridge and passed her a bottle she then too carried outside.
Back on the patio, Cat stood in front of the table, staring at it in awe: She'd rarely seen a table so laden. Sandy noticed this, cleared his throat and suggested: "Maybe you wanna invite Alex over?" She glanced at him surprised. "Thank you. But I guess she's still sleeping. She works pretty late, as you might know." "Oh. Yes, of course, I forgot. Then maybe you wanna wake Ryan? He usually doesn't sleep in." Cat looked over to the poolhouse with the blinds pulled down. "I think I'd like to give him a few more minutes. Since I kept him awake so long.. just like your wife.." "Nevermind. I guess Kirsten will rise and shine soon. So..", another Cohen-trait took the better of him: Curiosity.
But how to begin without simply blurring out? "Uhm.. where are you from?" Of course he knew her birth-place from her file, but this seemed to be a safe place to start. She looked at him, surprised and a little suspiciously. "Here and there..", which seemed to be a little too vague for him, so she precised: "But I'm from New York originally. Like you are, right?" Now the surprise was his. "How do you know? I thought I'd lost my accent. Or did Ryan tell you?" "No, he didn't. It's just the way you pronounce some words, that's all. Just a lucky guess." "Good guess!" He picked a bagel while she was still contented with her coffee. "So, your parents are from New York?" "Uhm.. that's quite a long, telenovela-like story.." He was relieved to see her smile with that. He'd expected something else since he knew they were dead. He leaned back and bit in his bagel. "I'm all ears. The others are still in bed anyway", he managed through his full mouth. "Well, it's a bit complicated", she sighed. "Uhm.. it began.. once upon a time in Italy..", she paused and grinned. "Hey, the Godfather! Already like it!" Sandy exclaimed and waved for her to carry on.
"Okay. My grandmother, Cassandra, therefore the name, met this incredibly charming French soldier, fell in love, got pregnant and – was left by him. Nobody ever told me even his name. But my mother, the illegitimate lovechild, was taught French, so I guess nonna was still in love with him. Anyway. Since they were from like the smallest village ever, my grandmother was sent away before my mother was born so she wouldn't put shame upon her family. To my grandmother's cousin who lived in New York. He ran an Italian restaurant in Little Italy. Total cliché. My mother was raised exclusively in French and Italian for the first years and my uncle totally observed her every move, especially after my grandmother went back to Italy to care for her mother who'd become very ill. Unfortunately it must have been contagious, so nonna died there, too. But I'm sure she was happy with that. This way she's buried in her motherland." She paused and pondered about how to continue while pouring herself some more milk.
"Uhm.. my father was from Ireland. He used to say his ancestors were from Scotland but moved away because their family name wasn't too popular around there." Shaking her head she smiled at the memory. "All the men in his family went to the sea, and so did he. He was working on ships, at harbors, as a fisherman, whatever. He'd been to New York a couple of times before he was offered a permanent job at the New York Harbor. Well, long story short, some of his co-workers were Italian and he often joined them for dinner after work. And, surprise, they went to my uncle's restaurant when he met mama and "immediately fell in love with her", as he used to say. But of course he had a hard time convincing uncle Georgio. He'd even learnt Italian, at least some phrases, to impress him." She laughed. "He told us that he once borrowed a guitar and sang beneath her window, but this just earned him a bowl of water over his head 'cause he'd picked the wrong one." Sandy joined her laughing. "He said it took almost half a year before he was even allowed to sit with her and have a cappuccino under the survey of my uncle. And that his Italian friends also helped to convince him. Not to forget a little deal that involved fresh fish and sea fruits he brought to the restaurant at half price. Uncle Georgio told us later that my father had won him over pretty early but the Italian tradition asked for a little more effort, especially since he was "only" Irish. But he was steadfast, honest and determined, and my mother had felt the same way for him, so they finally got the permission to marry. Papa even cooked in the restaurant some times. He'd created a new "Italian-Irish-dish" with sea fruits and a traditional Irish sauce. Like Irish pasta marinara. Forgot how they called it", she laughed again, then sighed.
"After they died and my brother Patrick was old enough, he became my legal guardian. And we moved to California. And that's about it." She took a sip of her milk and shrugged her shoulders.
Sandy who was al little confused by the sudden end of the story looked at her questioningly. "What had happened?"
"Uhm.. I told you all this because you and your family have been so kind to me, without any reservations. I.. already told Ryan the other part of the story, but.. I'd rather not repeat it all. I'm sure he'll tell you later because he trusts you. And I'm okay with it." She smiled. "Despite my name I don't have a huge, mysterious family secret, I'm sorry. And I don't have criminal issues, as you might know from my file." Caught off-guard, Sandy choked on his coffee. "What?", he managed.
She smiled again and poured coffee into the rest of her milk. "Mr. Cohen, I know you're a public defender and as such.. inquisitive, so there's no way you could not have at least looked through any information you could get about a stranger under your roof, considering the little time you had. And I guess you would not have a problem to sit with me for breakfast even if you thought I could be involved in something criminal as long as I'm not an immediate danger to your family. I mean.. you were Ryan's attorney and even took him into your family despite his past. You haven't found anything too disturbing in my file, and considering your wife and sons, you have enough trust in each other that you trust Ryan's judgement and decision to help me although you don't know me.
But good people like you have the right to know a little more in return. And.. I'd like to console you a little. You won't regret what you did." Sandy stared at her dumbfounded. Was he really THAT predictable? And what..
"What did you mean by saying I was inquisitive?" "But you are, aren't you? I mean: You are a lawyer, or not." He nodded and she explained: "Lawyers are usually quite.. inquisitive and.. interested." "You mean curious." She glanced at him over the brink of her cup. "I saw the curtains move when we arrived." "Oh.."
But before he could recover from his surprise, Cat suddenly changed the subject. As effortlessly as his wife did when she was hosting one of those infamous charity parties. "How come you ended up here?"
Apparently she was done giving answers for now. "Me? Uhm.. pure coincidence, I guess. As you know, I grew up in New York, the Bronx, to be more specific. My father left us when I was still very young, so my mother had to work a lot. She cooperated with the local child service to help homeless children, but..", he hesitated, eyes distant, and after a moment Cat finished his thought. "..But you where none of them since youalready DID have a home." Sandy threw her another surprised glance. "Right. Well.. the work was her heart and soul and she's a person that needs to keep herself busy, anyway. Wasn't always easy, but somehow she had quite a strong influence on me. Otherwise I wouldn't have gone to Berkeley to become a public defender afterwards."
He noticed her knitting her brows. "That's a thing I don't quite get. A Jewish lawyer from the Bronx lives in sunny California, in Newport, where there are the most costly premises in Orange County – in such a beautiful, huge.. mansion. Are you still a public defender, only? Or is it pro bono." He smiled and nodded. "You're right again. Seth and I are part of the Jewish minority around here. And if someone had told me back then that I'd be married to the gorgeous blonde, blue-eyed Presbyterian daughter of one of the richest families here, living in such a house, I'd have laughed. There had been quite a few.. well, changes considering my work over the past year, but it's true: Most of our money is Kirsten's. Her father is kind of a real estate mogul and she's running the finance of his company." "Oh, wait a moment", Cat nodded, "Kirsten Cohen! Of course. She's Caleb Nichol's daughter. The Newport Group. Now I get it. But this woman he's married to, the one who just published this glossy magazine, she's not her mother." "Julie Cooper!" Sandy exclaimed. "No! Thank God!" The thought of a mix of the genetics of the gruesome twosome sent shivers down his spine. He glanced around the house and garden and emptied his coffee. "This is really not where I imagined myself back in New York, but maybe it's true that opposites attract." "I wonder if the respective parents thought the same way", Cat chuckled, causing Sandy to laugh.
"Oh, they still don't! Those are opposites that don't attract at all! Sometimes it's like every son or daughter in law's nightmare, believe me. But we're happy, despite some turbulences." He made a vague gesture involving the premises. "I mean: How could we not?" With a wry smile she replied: "Well, wisdom of the day: A beautiful house doesn't make a home. It's you and your family who did it. You even made it one for him.. and he's sure worthy of it." She motioned towards the poolhouse with her chin. Sandy sighed. "At least we hope so.. Now! What about getting the rest of the family at the table?" He filled a cup with coffee and passed it to Cat. "This usually wakes him quite efficiently."
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Papermonster: So, there was a reason why I set this story up under "romance" as well. Dunno, but I simply felt like getting into something classical-romantic-good-old-times-stuff. It just wrote itself. (Now I understand the concept of the "plot-bunnies". This onekind of bit me.)Maybe now you understand the partition: This sub-story somehow had to stand alone. But I'm still thinking about some further romance. And of course some angst. Just let me know what you think and what you wish for, any critics and suggestions welcome!