Saturday dawned bright and clear. The day promised to be sunny and warm, and Gretchen expressed her delight at being able to hold a garden party as planned. All throughout the morning, she directed all available family members to help with putting up large, open tents that would provide some shade, and arranged garden furniture on the lawn. Closer to the house, a large barbeque grill was being set up by Kathryn's uncles, while some of the younger family members were busy carrying stacks of plates, bowls, glasses, cutlery and napkins to the designated buffet tables.

Midmorning, a caterer delivered large crates of wine, beer, water and various juices as well as basics like different varieties of bread and fruit. Most of the food was being freshly prepared though, and so about half a dozen individuals could be found in the kitchen at any given time, chopping vegetables and tossing salads, or cutting and arranging the many cakes, pies and pastries that Gretchen had already prepared over the past few days with the help of neighbors and friends.

Chakotay remarked on this when he and Kathryn took a short break together after showing the caterer where he could unload his truck. "I thought your mother wasn't opposed to replicators. How come everything is prepared by hand today?"

"It's tradition," Kathryn explained, looking radiant in her green wraparound dress, her face flushed with excitement. "On a normal day, she doesn't mind the replicator at all, but when there's something to celebrate – birthdays, weddings, Christmas, you name it – there's an unwritten rule that everything should be cooked and baked from scratch. And since everyone is used to pitching in, it really isn't as much work as it looks." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Although I have to confess that I've spent the past twenty years avoiding the kitchen on a day like this. The last time I was asked to help out, I was nine years old and accidentally dumped a load of salt into a pudding instead of sugar. Since then everyone agrees that I'm much better suited to putting up strings of lights or a PA system than garnishing a buffet dish."

She looked rather pleased as she said this, and Chakotay couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Somehow I have a feeling that that salty pudding wasn't as much of an accident as you claim."

"Shhh!" Kathryn quickly put a hand over his mouth, looking around to check who was within earshot. Satisfied that everybody was otherwise occupied, she shot him a stern look. "I thought you were on my side!"

"I am," he assured her, pulling her hand away and dropping a kiss on her pouting lips. "I just didn't know that you abhorred kitchen work so much."

Shrugging, she held up her hands in a gesture of defeat. "I told you I'm not very domestic. Some people enjoy cooking, I just don't. Besides, every party needs a trained electrician, wouldn't you say?" From a nearby table she picked up the screwdriver she'd used earlier to fix a malfunctioning porch light and twirled it around like a baton. "Everybody knows I have a degree in quantum mechanics, but I also have a minor in engineering. If you've got an ODN matrix to realign, I'm most willing to help out."

"I never doubted that." Laughing again, he took her in his arms for another kiss.

-==/\==-

By early afternoon, the out-of-town guests started arriving. Gretchen was now busy greeting people and accepting their congratulations while the pile of birthday presents on a side table was getting higher and higher.

"Ridiculous," she groaned, rearranging several smaller packets to make room for two new bottle-shaped gifts. "I specifically asked for no presents, so now everyone is bringing consumables. I'll have to hold another party to even make a dent in this collection."

Chakotay had been helping her carry things over, and he now eyed the assortment with interest. "Another alien alcohol carousel?"

"Kathryn told you about that, did she?" Gretchen smiled. "No, this will be more in the direction of home-made jellies and fruit liquors. Things we actually do eat and drink eventually, although at this rate we can probably try a new flavor every week for the next two years." Before Chakotay could reply, Gretchen called out to Kathryn and her cousin Danny who were carrying a large box of plastic shovels and sand molds for the children playing in the sandbox at the back of the yard. "Kathryn, come here a minute, please."

Danny somehow managed to hoist the box onto his shoulder and carried on alone while Kathryn hurried to join her mother. "What's up, Mom?"

"Have you spoken to Julia yet?"

"No, I haven't seen her."

Gretchen turned to face her daughter, finally satisfied with rearranging the presents. "She's been asking for you. Please grab a glass of wine and go find her."

"But Mom, I was helping Danny with the kids," Kathryn gestured to where her cousin had just dropped the large box and was on his hands and knees to collect the toys that had spilled over the lawn.

"Danny will be quite alright by himself. Now be a dear, Kathryn, and do as I told you," Gretchen said sternly. "You know it would be rude to not even say hello to her." She turned away, already caught up in greeting another new arrival.

"What is it?" Chakotay asked in a low voice, shocked by how Kathryn's previously rosy cheeks had suddenly turned pale. "Is Julia another inquisitive aunt of yours?"

"No." She turned to him, eyes wide with an emotion he couldn't quite identify. "One of Mom's friends. Someone with a similar background – a husband who's away on missions for months on end, leaving her to raise the children. They met several years ago at a Fleet family get-together, when my father was still alive but I'd already joined the Academy." She cleared her throat. "Her full name is Julia Paris. She's Captain Paris' wife."

"Oh." For a moment, Chakotay was at a loss for words. Then he took Kathryn's hands in his own. "She won't know. Unless he's told her any details, which I seriously doubt, she won't know what happened any more than your mother does."

"You think?" Kathryn looked doubtful.

Chakotay put his arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the refreshments table. "I'm sure. You said yourself that your father never told your mother all the grisly details of his missions. I doubt that Captain Paris would act differently. Besides, he's obviously trying to keep this whole affair under wraps."

She looked up at him sharply. "What makes you say that?"

"I looked at the mission logs," he confessed.

"Why? And why didn't you tell me?"

"Since you said you couldn't remember the rescue I thought maybe the logs would provide some insights. They didn't though," he went on quickly, before Kathryn could make a comment. "There was no information beyond what you'd already told me – actually, it was far less detailed – which can only mean that either Captain Paris or Command have their reasons for keeping quiet about the Cardassians' involvement."

Kathryn was still looking at him wide-eyed. "But why didn't you tell me?" she repeated.

"I thought it would only upset you further," Chakotay explained, hoping that she would understand his concerns rather than accuse him of doing things behind her back – which, in truth, he had been doing. "Also, since there was nothing new in the files, it kind of slipped my mind," he added, looking slightly sheepish. "While you were there, I had... other things on my mind."

"Thank you for telling me now. I wish I'd known earlier, but it doesn't really change anything," Kathryn sighed and picked up two glasses of wine, one red and one white, while Chakotay also reached for red. "Let's find Mrs. Paris and get this over with quickly."

They found Julia Paris just emerging from the back of the house. She was a tall, striking woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and clear green eyes, clad in a simple periwinkle blue pantsuit. She gracefully accepted the glass of white wine Kathryn offered her before introducing Chakotay.

Julia took one look at his regulation haircut and smiled. "You're Starfleet, too, aren't you?" At his confirming nod, she asked, "Which ship?"

"I'm currently posted to the Academy as an instructor, Ma'am," Chakotay replied politely, automatically adopting a 'parade rest' stance, albeit with a glass in his hand.

Julia chuckled. "You don't have to act official around me, Mr. Chakotay, I'm not part of the fleet. What subjects do you teach?"

Chakotay found himself relaxing slightly, even though he still felt tension radiating from Kathryn. "Advanced tactical skills and piloting," he replied, taking a sip from his own wine.

"Piloting? Then you must know my son," Julia exclaimed. When he frowned, she supplied, "Thomas Eugene Paris. He's in his second year now."

Chakotay's expression cleared. "I'm sorry, I only have first-years in my flight training classes at the moment. He must be with one of the other instructors."

"A pity," Julia shrugged. "He could probably learn a great deal from someone like you." Before Chakotay could decipher what she meant, she had already turned to Kathryn. "And how's my husband treating you?"

Caught by surprise by the sudden change in topic, Kathryn stammered, "I... I learned a lot these past few weeks."

"Ah yes, I heard about your stint as first officer," Julia said lightly, and Chakotay felt Kathryn stiffen at his side. "He said he was quite pleased with your performance. From what I understand, he even tried to get you the job permanently, but since Commander What's-his-name had already been assigned, Command told him no."

"Commander Mason," Kathryn supplied automatically, but her vacant look told Chakotay that her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Mason, of course." Oblivious to the mixed reaction her words had caused, Julia looked past them and waived at someone behind Chakotay's back. Then she excused herself, saying that there were some other acquaintances she wanted to catch up with, and left the couple alone.

Chakotay turned to Kathryn and ran the backs of his knuckles over her cheek. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She blinked, visibly pulling herself back to the present. "I'm fine," she replied automatically. At Chakotay's raised eyebrow she grasped his hand and entwined her fingers with his. "Really, I'm okay. I was just thinking..."

"What?" he prompted when she trailed off and took a sip from her wine.

She turned her eyes up to his, a small frown creasing her forehead. "I was thinking, if I do go back to the Al-Batani, what will I be doing? Obviously I won't be first officer anymore, not that I expected to be. All the other posts with command track training are filled." She shrugged helplessly. "Back to science, after all that? With Alex gone..."

"I don't think so." Chakotay tugged on her hand and led her further away, out of earshot of the other guests. "Captain Paris wouldn't have gone to all that trouble to get you out of science only to put you back now. I'm sure he requested a new science officer already, probably even two. And even if there isn't a regular position for you right now, there's always interim solutions like 'mission specialist' or 'project supervisor'."

Kathryn's frown deepened, causing him to wonder whether she knew that he'd been a mission specialist himself on his latest shipboard posting. Somehow it had never come up in their conversations, but if she'd read his service record just like he'd read hers, she was bound to have stumbled over the ambiguous label.

"I wouldn't worry about that yet," he continued, hoping to lighten her mood again. "After all, he didn't tell you to apply for reassignment, so he must have some kind of plan in mind. And even if he doesn't, it's not your problem, but his."

"The joys of command," she quipped, and Chakotay was relieved to see her frown disappear. "Alright, I won't think about it now. But I reserve the right to brood further once the party is over."

"Fair enough," he agreed with a smile, and arm in arm they turned to rejoin the other guests.

-==/\==-