(After season 12)

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooooooo

"That's my piece of cake." Hank was in a foul mood. He had entered the kitchen and found his sister eating the last piece of birthday cake and the boy was furious.

"You've had four pieces of cake since Tuesday. Four." Christine sliced off a forkful from her piece of cake and popped it into her mouth. After she swallowed, she decided the cake was too dry and stale and she didn't really want it after all. "I had one slice." Still, it was the principle of the thing.

Annoyed, Hank watched his sister mash one end of the slice of cake. "It's my birthday cake."

Sighing, she moved the cake plate towards the center of the table. "You want it, go ahead and take it. You're such a selfish little boy."

"Little boy?" Insulted, Hank grabbed the cake plate and held it in his hands. "I'm fourteen and I'm almost as tall as you are. I'm not a little boy."

Amused, Christine leaned back against her chair and watched her brother pick up the cake slice and stuff it into his mouth. "If you say so."

Someone at that moment chose to knock on the door and Christine felt a sense of relief. She and her brother had been fighting all morning about who was supposed to do what while their parents were gone, but so far, nothing had been accomplished. Her parents had gone shopping and Christine and Hank were supposed to be cleaning the living room, but so far, the only thing they had accomplished was to fight over a piece of stale cake. Maybe company was what they needed.

Moving towards the door, Christine pointed at the kitchen. "Go put your plate in the dishwasher." Opening the door, she was surprised to see a familiar looking stranger at the door. "Can I help you?"

Margaret could see her cousin in the young woman standing in front of her and she smiled. "I'm Margaret Whitesell. I'm your mother's second cousin . . . I'm from Minnesota . . . Your grandfather, Max was my mother's cousin-in-law."

For a moment, Christine stared at the woman and decided she looked like she could be related to her mother. "I think I saw you in the photo album . . . Come in." Once Margaret was in the house, Christine walked into the living room, grabbed a photo album from the shelf and flipped through it. After a few minutes she found what she was looking for. "Okay Margaret." Closing the book, she placed it back on the shelf and spoke to her brother who was standing near the bar. "This is Mom's second cousin, Margaret."

Rubbing his chin, Hank studied Margaret for a moment then nodded his head. "Yeah, I can see the family resemblance . . . want a drink? We have cokes, water, juice and beer. I can't offer you any of the liquor in the bar because Dad says I'm not allowed to touch it."

While she felt like she was being studied like a bug under a microscope, Margaret expected nothing less from Max Keenan's grandchildren. "Water is fine." Sitting in the living room, the older woman watched Christine move over to the couch and sit down. "I've been meaning to come down for a visit for several years, but something is always going on with your parents or with me . . . still, I should have made an effort to come sooner."

After giving Margaret a bottle of water, Hank sat down next to his sister. "There's a picture of you in the photo album, you were at Grandpa's funeral."

"Yes, I was." Margaret had arrived at the funeral late for the church service, but she had made it in time for the gravesite service and once that was done, she had given her condolences to her cousin. Temperance had been heart broken, of course, but she knew it was hard to lose a parent especially after the man had been so brave and had saved his grandchildren from a murderer. "Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time for that's the stuff life is made of."

"What?" The boy glanced at his sister then back at Margaret. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I should have come to visit Max again before he died." Margaret rarely quoted Benjamin Franklin anymore, but this quote seemed to speak to her, loud and clear. "Time is precious and it's hard to do the things we should do, but sometimes we can't and all we have left are regrets."

Though Margaret spoke oddly, Christine agreed with what Margaret had said. "I was eight when Grandpa died and Hank was three. It wasn't fair that we lost him like that."

"Unfortunately, life isn't fair." Margaret had learned that lesson at an early age.

"Yeah, Dad says that whenever I complain about stuff." Hank laughed. "If I had a dollar for every time he's said that, I'd have enough to buy a motorcycle . . . well, maybe a used one . . . almost."

Glancing at her watch, Margret wondered where her cousin Temperance was. "I take it your parents aren't here . . . when do you expect them to come back?"

"Probably around 11." Hank glanced at his sister and saw her nod her head. "They do the shopping on Saturday morning. They usually pick up lunch on the way home for all of us. If you stick around, you can have a free lunch."

"We don't go with them, because Dad is the grab stuff from the shelf kind of guy and Mom buys from a list . . . sometimes they can get into loud arguments about cookies, Cheetos and tofu. It's better to stay home and let them deal with it."

Hank agreed. "Hey, we can look at photo albums before they come home or I can show you my Hot Wheels collection. My brother gave me his collection when I was six and I buy them if I see them at garage sales."

Rolling her eyes, Christine found her brother's fascination with old toy cars boring, but if Margaret was game then that would kill some time until her parents came home.

"Well, I'd certainly like to see that." Margaret loved talking to children and she found their hobbies to be fascinating.

"Cool. Come on." Leading Margaret down the hallway, Hank chatted about the types of Hot Wheels he had and the special display case his father had made for him.

Once she was alone, Christine called her mother. "Mom, guess who's here? . . . Okay, I know you don't like to guess . . . Okay, I'll tell you. It's your cousin Margaret . . . I don't know, she just showed up at the door and said she's here to visit you . . . Hank is showing her his Hot Wheels collection . . . she seemed interested, so I don't think anyone pressured her to look at his toy cars . . . Mom, it's cool. I'm just letting you know she's here . . . Okay, bye." The call ended she began to clean up the living room. The last thing she wanted was for her father to fuss at her for not straightening up the living room.

Ooooooooooooooo

As she entered the house, Brennan looked towards the living room and found her cousin, Margaret sitting on the couch with the children, looking at one of their photo albums. Following behind her, Booth carried several grocery bags into the house and let his wife close the door behind him. Once their grocery bags were unloaded onto the kitchen counters, Booth grabbed a beer from the fridge. "Go see your guest, Bones. I'll put the stuff away. Maybe we can go out for lunch."

Not sure what to expect from her cousin, Brennan nodded her head and left the kitchen. As she entered the living room, she was met by Margaret who had noticed Booth and Brennan enter the house. Hugging Brennan, Margaret knew her cousin hated physical contact from strangers, but she wasn't really a stranger was she? "Temperance. It's been a long time and I apologize for that. I should have found the time to visit you after Max died, but . . . life just got in the way."

Stepping back from her cousin, Brennan smiled and glanced at her children. "Yes, life can get in the way of many things and you do not need to apologize. I could have found time to go see you and I didn't . . . You're here now and you're welcome to stay as long as you wish to. I have a guest bedroom that you may use."

"Oh, thank you, but I want to stay in my hotel." Margaret laughed. "I don't get to stay in them very much and I love the fact that someone cleans up after me and I can order room service whenever I want to, but thanks for the offer. I do appreciate it . . . I plan to visit with you for about three days . . . Guests, like fish begin to smell after three days."

Brennan felt it was a waste of money when there was a free room to be had, but since it was her cousin's money she felt she didn't have a right to interfere. "Well . . . alright. I should be able to take Monday off, I just need to let Cam know . . . I see you've met my children. Of course, you've met them before, but that was eleven years ago and that is a lifetime when it comes to children."

"Yes, Hank showed me his Hot Wheels collection which of course was well worth the look and Christine is showing me your family photo albums . . . If it's possible, could I have a copy of the picture you have of Max with his grandchildren sitting on his lap? It's a lovely picture."

"Of course. I'll have one made and I'll mail it to you." Surprised, Brennan knew she would send the picture as soon as possible. "You should have called me to let me know you were coming. I could have arranged to take the week off."

Glancing at Booth as he entered the living room, Margaret shook her head and turned her attention back towards her cousin. "That's why I didn't call. I don't want to take up too much of your time." With that said, she took a package from the large purse hanging from her shoulder and handed it to her cousin. "My Aunt Juanita died three weeks ago and after the funeral her daughter, Kylie and I prepared the house to be sold. I found this while I was going through my aunt's filing cabinet . . . It belongs to you. Kylie and I want you to have it . . . We didn't want to mail it to you because we didn't want to risk it getting lost in the mail."

Curious, Brennan took the package from her cousin, glanced at her husband then walked over to the chair near the fireplace and sat down. The package consisted of a large business envelope and what appeared to be a box inside. Her eyes on the package, she pulled the tape from the back of the envelope and opened it. Inside she found a slim box and pulled it out. Placing the envelope on the floor, she laid the box on her lap and stared at it for a moment. There was a handwritten message on a card taped to the box and Brennan suddenly felt emotional.

Keep this safe. It's for my daughter, Joy. I'll come and get it when it's safe to do so. Love Ruth

"If this was for me, then why didn't your Aunt send the package to me?" Brennan stared at Margaret and waited for an answer. When none came, she shook her head. "She knew where I am because you know where I am."

Shrugging her shoulders, Margaret really didn't have an answer for her. "I don't know. I'd never seen it before. When I found it, I showed it to Kylie and she said she'd never see it either. We didn't feel we had the right to open it, so I don't know what it is . . . Maybe your answer is inside."

Unable to put it off any longer, Brennan opened the box and stared at the contents. Speechless, she stared at the book, running her finger over the cloth cover.

Curious, Booth moved closer and peered over Brennan's shoulder. "A book and a . . . smaller box? Open the box, Bones. Let's see what your mother wanted you to have."

After hesitating for the moment, Brennan finally opened the smaller box. Inside, there lay a beautiful gold locket with a stylized 'T' engraved in the case. Opening it, she found on one side a picture of her mother and father and on the other side was a picture of Brennan and her brother. The pictures were in black and white, sharp and in focus. After she closed the locket, she ran her finger over the case and smiled. Slowly closing the box that contained the locket, Brennan swallowed, trying to regain her composure. After she placed the small box on the floor near her feet, she opened the book and found it to be a baby book. She found pictures of her starting with a picture taken shortly after she was born. Each picture was captioned with the name 'Joy' under each photo. There were handwritten stories under each picture written by her mother, with words of love and hope for a bright future. The book ended when Brennan was about three years old and a message from her mother was written on the last page. She read that message out loud for everyone in the room to hear.

Joy, I hope someday I can give you this book and locket in person. Something terrible has happened and our lives are forever altered. We have to move away from our home, change our names and live new lives. Our old lives are now gone and that is because your father and I made a mistake. A serious terrible mistake. I won't go into that here. If you're reading this, then I assume I found a safe way to get these things back from Juanita or you're grown now and Juanita found a way to get them to you. I didn't want to risk losing them and I know Juanita will take care of them for me as long as she can.

You may read stories about us, your father and me and you should assume that most of them are probably true. We lived a life that most would consider immoral. They are of course right and wrong. Morality is a social construct. If you choose to live outside that construct, then most of society rejects you. I hope you are old enough to understand what I am saying. Regardless, the decisions we made shouldn't have affected you and your brother, but we were wrong and for that I'm sorry.

Juanita is not only a cousin, but my dear friend. She has agreed to keep these things for you. The locket belonged to my mother and before that her mother, Tina. I gave Juanita the pictures that used to rest in the locket, so don't fear that they are lost. They were pictures of my grandmother and grandfather and Juanita wanted them. She will take care of them.

I love you, Joy. I love you and I hope that we can give you a happy life, but if we failed, then please forgive me and your father. We tried our best and believe me, it was our best.

Love Mom

The message from her mother answered some questions and left others unanswered, but she knew they would always remain unanswered. Her mother and father were dead and the past was closed to her.

Booth stood silently by while his partner composed herself. He knew she felt things deeply and sometimes silence was what she needed. He placed his hand on her shoulder to remind her she wasn't alone and that she was loved.

Christine and Hank watched their mother wipe a tear from her face and they knew that the box from their grandmother had affected her. It made them sad for her, but they knew she was strong and she would be alright.

Her emotions now under control, Brennan reached up and patted her husband's hand. With a faint smile, she closed the book and placed it back in the box it came in then back in the envelope along with the box containing the locket. She needed time to look at them again, when she was alone. "Thank you for bringing these to me."

"Oh, you're welcome." Margaret could see that her cousin was sad, but it was a good sadness. "Tears come from the heart and not from the brain. It's a quote by Leonardo Di Vinci and I promise I don't quote him all the time."

Chuckling, Brennan nodded her head. "That's good . . . Thank you for coming to see me. Max loved your company and hoped to see you again before he died. That didn't happen, but I do want you to know he thought of you and had planned to visit you."

"Thank you." Margaret didn't have many relatives in her life and she valued them all, living and deceased. "I miss him."

Oooooooooooooooooo

Thank you for reading my story. Please let me know what you think of it.