A/N: Once upon a time (in By the Book) Neal refused to tell Peter what he'd done over his Christmas vacation. When I was writing the Wish on a Star vignette I'd thought that a good birthday present for Peter would be for Neal to tell the story of that vacation. However, the birthday vignette grew so long that it seemed best to split this into its own story. And here we are!
This vignette opens in January 2005, during the first chapter of The Dreamer. Then it goes back to December 2003, during Caffrey Choirboy.
The story title is from a song I associate with holidays, with the line "over the river and through the wood, to grandmother's house we go."
Burke Residence, Brooklyn. January 16, 2005. Sunday evening.
Peter raised his glass and made a toast. "To victories at White Collar, Columbia, and Burke Premiere Events!"
The main topic of conversation during dinner was what Peter, El, and Neal envisioned for the future. As El plated dessert crepes, Peter decided it was time to bring up the past. "Last week you promised to tell me the story of what you did on your 2003 Christmas vacation. Let's hear it."
"You already heard it," Neal protested.
"No, on my birthday you provided a highly edited account of what you were up to. It's just us, now. No strangers, no kids. Tell us what really happened."
"I have to admit I want to hear more details," El added.
Neal set down his brandy. "Like I said on your birthday, Henry was on a campaign to convince me to meet our Caffrey relatives. He had a plan, and it started with visiting our grandparents' home in D.C. while they were spending the holidays in New York."
Edmund & Irene Caffrey's home. December 26, 2003. Friday morning.
Snow blanketed the lawn and frosted the mature trees that surrounded the house. Looking up through the falling snowflakes, Neal thought the oak tree could work for climbing up to the second-floor windows if Henry took much longer opening the front door. "You have the key, right?" Neal asked. He glanced toward the street. There wasn't much traffic, but he worried they were going to gather attention if they kept hanging out on the porch. Henry felt a need to show off by testing the security system and breaking in, but he was out of practice. He should have let the former cat burglar take the lead.
"Where's the fun in that? Just one more… There. Security system is off, and the door is open. Welcome home."
"Not my home," Neal said, as he stepped into their grandparents' house. "Not yours, either."
"Felt like home," Henry said, "especially when my parents were fighting."
It was homey, Neal had to admit. The wood floors had a warm glow, reminiscent of the house's yellow exterior paint. A seven-foot Christmas tree decorated in maroon stood near the banister, and across the room white and gold stockings hung from a stone fireplace. "I remember this."
"You would have been three, more or less, the last Christmas you spent here."
"There was hot chocolate."
"In the kitchen. Follow me, kiddo."
They entered a spacious, cheerful kitchen. The stainless-steel appliances looked new, and Neal didn't recognize the blue-and-cream striped wallpaper, but the creamy cabinets and chocolate brown granite countertops looked familiar.
While Henry opened a cabinet and retrieved two mugs and hot chocolate mix, Neal checked out a teddy bear cookie jar. It was full, and the cookies looked homemade. He brought the jar and two saucers to the kitchen table and sat down. Henry carried over the mugs. "What kind of cookies?"
"Looks like two varieties, chocolate chip and…" Neal pulled a cookie out of the jar and tasted it. "Applesauce cookies. My mom used to make these."
"All the best recipes came from your mom, as far as I can tell." Henry tried one of the chocolate chip cookies. "Now don't you feel ridiculous for being afraid of coming here? Our grandparents are great. Definitely better than Robert."
"It would take extreme effort to be as bad as Uncle Robert," Neal said. He turned his mug around. It had teddy bears on it. Henry's had honeybees. "What's with the animals?" he asked. There was a ladybug teapot, and the saucers he'd selected for the cookies had bunnies on them. The roll of paper towels had bunnies, too. "I expected fine china at an ambassador's house."
"They keep that stuff in the dining room. Kitchen's for family." Henry gestured toward the window. "Remember the yard?"
Neal looked out the bay window at the gently sloping yard. "I remember it being steeper. Didn't we sled down that hill?"
"That's right." Henry lifted his mug. "Want a refill?"
"Maybe later. What else did you want me to see?"
Henry rolled his eyes. "It's not a race. You can relax and enjoy the ambience."
"The cookies aren't going anywhere," Neal said, aware that Henry's sweet tooth could keep them in the kitchen for hours. "What's next?"
Next was the ambassador's study. A stately oak desk was centered on a blue and beige Persian rug, and the walls were lined with oak bookshelves. Most of the shelves held books about law and policy, but to the side there was a mix of classic and popular literature. And one shelf featured the distinctive bright book covers of children's stories. On the lower shelves were well-worn books in easy reach of toddlers. Several shelves above that were photo albums. Henry pulled three albums out and shoved them into Neal's arms. Then he grabbed three more and carried them to the living room.
They sprawled on a rug in tones of yellow, beige, and gold, and paged through the albums, starting with photos of Neal's grandparents as children.
With each page, Henry told stories he knew by heart. Sometimes Neal could hear a trace of a southern accent. That wasn't Henry's accent, but instead was him repeating the stories exactly as their southern belle grandmother had told them. At times, Neal could almost hear her voice as Henry spoke.
Henry had an agenda, of course. He wanted Neal to feel like he knew these people — grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins — so that he'd feel comfortable meeting them. In fact, he wanted to make Neal eager to meet them. That wasn't going to happen in a single day, but Neal did have to admit that his grandparents were intriguing.
They returned to the kitchen to make lunch. Neal had brought groceries so that their grandparents hopefully wouldn't notice their home had been invaded in their absence by two starving grandsons. After they ate he insisted on cleaning the dishes and putting everything away. As a burglar you learned to clean up after yourself as you went, and not to leave a lot of stuff lying around. That way if the homeowners came home early you could make a quick getaway without cluing in your victims immediately to the fact that they'd been robbed.
"Stop already," said Henry. "Sit down and tell me about the new job. Is this Peter guy treating you well?"
"Yeah." Neal had already told Henry about his deal with the FBI, and repeated his earlier assurances that Peter was a decent, honest guy who really wanted Neal to succeed.
"And the rest of the team?" Henry prompted.
"It's going to take a while to win them over. They decided to tail me over my lunch breaks to see what I was up to." He grinned. "I led the first guy to some sexually explicit gift shops. I wish I could've heard him describe it to the other agents. Then I took the rest of my tails Christmas caroling at local hospitals. That's how I met June — my new landlady. Her husband was at the hospital and when I played a Sinatra song for them it was like a match made in heaven. They wanted someone to keep Byron's mind off the pain by playing the music he loves and listening to his stories about his heyday as a con artist. He retired from that years ago, but he's got some incredible stories."
"I'd like to hear them." Henry paused. "You know, our grandparents have some incredible stories, too. They've traveled all over the world."
Neal raised a brow. He'd spent a couple of years in Europe himself, and had visited Asia as well.
"Yeah, yeah. You're a world traveler, too. Think of the stories you could swap with them."
"You really want me to tell them about breaking into the Louvre?"
Henry smiled. "How about telling me about it?"
"How about — " Neal was interrupted by a knock at the door.
The albums. They'd left those photo albums scattered on the floor. If someone looked in the windows, they'd see the open albums, and realize someone was in the house.
"Henry!" It was a feminine voice. "Let me in!"
"Stay here," Henry ordered.
Of course Neal wasn't going to follow orders. He had an idea of who this might be, and he wanted to see her.
Henry opened the door. "You're supposed to be in New York."
She stepped onto the stone entryway, pulling a suitcase behind her. "I couldn't handle it. We went away to escape the memories of past Christmases that linger here, but the Air Force asked the Ambassador to talk at a memorial for fallen airmen and instead of avoiding memories, it was like being at Dad's funeral all over again." She sniffed. "I'd rather be here with happy memories, than be someplace else reliving the funeral."
Neal peeked around the Christmas tree. The newcomer was his younger cousin Angela. She had long, straight, dark hair, and was shorter than he'd expected. She barely reached Henry's shoulder.
"What are you standing there for?" Angela asked. She wiped her eyes and looked up at Henry. "Let me in."
"It's cold in here. The furnace is off. How about we go back to my hotel? We can have a nice long, talk, someplace neutral with no sad memories."
"Are you hiding something?" Angela stood on tiptoes and tried to look around Henry. "Or someone?" She caught her breath. "Is Neal here? Did you convince him to come?"
"I'm not ready to introduce you, yet," Henry said. "I didn't expect you to chase after me for another day."
"Well, I'm not leaving now," Angela insisted.
Neal stepped out from behind the tree and waved. "Hi."
"Neal! It is you!" Angela darted to one side, and when Henry leaned in that direction, she moved to the other side and ran around him. She looked like she was going to hug Neal, then stopped at the last minute. "Hi. I'm Angela."
He grinned. "Yeah, I guessed. Henry's told me a lot about you."
"Same here." She jumped forward and hugged him, and jumped back again. Maybe it was all the animal motifs in the kitchen getting to him, but she reminded Neal of a bunny. "What have we got planned?" she asked.
"You think Henry would tell me?"
"I had hopes. He's pulling the man-of-mystery act again?"
They both turned to face Henry, who shrugged. "As if my plans could survive the two of you ganging up on me."
Angela smiled what she probably thought was an evil smile. "Then let me tell you about my plans."
"Nope," Henry said. "I'm the oldest. I'm in charge."
"Oh, c'mon."
Neal crossed his arms. "I'm the guest, right? Seems like I should pick what we do."
"It's obvious what we need to do," Henry insisted. "There's a club downtown that's open this evening."
"Who are we going to hear?" Angela asked.
"We're not going there to hear someone else."
"The Urban Legend con is on?" Neal asked.
"That's right. It's time to move forward with our plan to expose Masterson Music. We've waited long enough. We're bringing them down in 2004. That's my New Year's resolution. I've got my guitar in the car, and I borrowed one for Neal. Angela, they have a keyboard for you."
She bit her lip. "All three of us? But we've never performed together as a trio."
"Exactly. We need practice. I've performed with each of you enough to know what songs will work with all of us together." Henry rolled his eyes at their reluctance. "I've never been able to perform as Shawn Legend in D.C. for fear of a photo of me making it into the local papers, and our grandparents recognizing me. This is our only shot at singing here without any repercussions."
Neal studied him a moment. "When you said you didn't want me to buy you a gift for Christmas, this was why. I thought your gift was agreeing to explore this house with you, but it's singing together in D.C. That's what you really wanted."
"Yeah," Henry admitted.
"What do you say, Angela?"
"I don't know. If Henry didn't think I'd bolt from New York until tomorrow, he didn't intend for me to be part of this."
Henry put an arm around her shoulders. "That was the only flaw in my plan. It will be a much better gift if you join us." With that he won them over, and they took his car to a restaurant for dinner, and then they went to the club, where he'd already made arrangements with the manager for Urban Legend to perform.
After their performance, they went back to their grandparents' house. Henry convinced Neal it was safe to stay the night, as their grandparents knew Angela was staying there and wouldn't be surprised that Henry decided she shouldn't be alone with her memories of her father. There was no need to hide the fact that at least two grandchildren had been hanging out in their home.
Neal and Henry shared the bedroom that used to belong to their mothers. There were two beds on opposite sides of the room, and before they went to sleep Henry told stories he'd heard about the twin sisters when they were growing up. "See that tree right outside the window?" he asked.
A sturdy oak had limbs stretching toward the house. "Yeah."
"They used to sneak out sometimes by climbing down it."
So he'd guessed right about the tree being a potential entry to the house. Neal had been a decent tree-climber as a kid. "Interesting."
"We're not going to do that now," Henry cautioned. "We gotta turn out the lights soon, or Angela's going to wander in."
However, he didn't seem in a hurry to turn out those lights, and within ten minutes there was a knock on the door. "Hey, are you still awake?"
"Come in," Henry said.
Angela padded in, wearing a dark green velour robe and matching slippers. "I can't sleep."
"Wanna talk about your dad?" Henry asked. He sat cross-legged on his bed, and patted the space beside him.
Angela joined him and told a few stories about her father and past Christmases with him. Some of the stories happened in this house, but others were set at Air Force bases around the world. Being a world traveler was something else she had in common with Neal.
When she got choked up, Henry put an arm around her, and they were silent for a few minutes. Then he started talking about his plans for Urban Legend, and how they would expose Masterson Music's crimes. It would be a long con, requiring coordination over many months. With Henry in charge, naturally.
Or so they let Henry think. When he turned away to grab a pad of paper to make notes of his self-proclaimed brilliant ideas, Neal and Angela shared a look. They may have just met, but each was well acquainted with Henry's bossy ways. Together they could make sure he didn't get out of hand.
On Saturday, Angela took the lead and they visited her mother's house — Paige Caffrey was still in New York with her in-laws — and other favorite spots. They practiced singing together again, and added to their plans for Masterson Music.
Sunday morning Neal packed. His return flight wasn't until the afternoon, but he didn't want a last-minute rush. Then he fixed brunch for his cousins, as it turned out he was the superior cook among the three of them. As they finished eating Eggs Benedict, he turned to Angela and said, "I think meeting you might be the best Christmas gift I've ever received."
"Told you so," said Henry. "You're succumbing to my plan. By next December you'll be ready to spend Christmas with the whole clan."
Neal scoffed. "Not even you could pull that off."
He'd just started picking up the dishes, when they heard the front door open.
"Henry! Angela!" called out a woman whose voice sounded vaguely familiar.
The cousins looked at each other, frozen in place a moment.
"You said they weren't coming home until tonight," Neal whispered before bolting toward the backdoor.
Angela rushed to put the dishes in the dishwasher, so their grandparents wouldn't notice three places had been set at the table.
Henry slipped Neal his car keys. "Wait in the car for your luggage," he instructed. Then he strode into the living room to distract his grandparents. "What a great surprise. Mom! You, too?"
"We missed you," said his grandmother. "Where's Angela?"
She stepped out of the kitchen before Irene came looking for her.
Neal closed the door behind him as gently as possible, to avoid making any noise. He needed to get out of the yard, because that bay window in the kitchen had an expansive view. He stayed close to the house, and tried to step in places shielded by the bushes, where there wasn't much snow, so he wouldn't leave obvious footprints. Then he walked casually toward Henry's car down the block, acting like he belonged in the neighborhood and wasn't in a panic.
At least he had to give credit to Henry for not pushing him into the living room and making introductions. As eager as Henry was for him to meet more of the family, he recognized that Neal needed time to get used to the idea.
Neal unlocked the trunk and pulled out a brush for removing the snow from the car. He took his time, and soon after he finished, he was surprised to see Angela pulling her luggage along with his own. "My mom returned too, but she went straight to her house from the airport. I want to check on her, so it was easier for me to leave." They took Henry's rental to the airport, where Angela dropped Neal off before going to her mother's home.
Hanging out at the airport until his flight, Neal watched families go by on their way home from Christmas vacations. He and his mom hadn't traveled much over the holidays. Money was tight, and although he hadn't known it in their WITSEC identities, her real birthday fell on Christmas Day. It meant she missed her family even more that time of year, which probably exacerbated her depression.
The last two days with Henry and Angela had given him a taste of what holidays with the Caffreys could be like. It felt strange and awkward at times, but mostly he'd liked it. Could Henry be right, that he'd be ready for a full family reunion a year from now?
Burke Residence, Brooklyn. January 16, 2005. Sunday evening.
El laughed. "It makes me wonder… There's no way Henry manipulated his mother into marrying Joe over the holidays, just so you'd go to Hawaii with the Caffreys for the wedding, right?"
Neal paused to consider it. "Not with everything else going on in his life recently. But I'm sure he would have concocted an elaborate Christmas scheme if the wedding had been scheduled for another time of year."
Peter couldn't be more satisfied, reflecting on the fact that last month Neal had spent his first big family Christmas with both the Caffrey and the Burke clans. "Thanks for finally telling me the story."
Neal shrugged. "Nothing much happened, and you must have guessed most of it over the last year. It feels like a bit of a let-down."
"Not to me. You've come a long way since December 2003. I'm proud of you." Peter was determined to keep repeating that, as Neal had suffered a bit of a crisis over the holidays. The kid worried he wasn't reformed enough and had failed Peter. "Back when you made that trip to D.C. I'd never heard of Angela, and I doubted Henry Winslow even existed."
With that Neal chuckled. "You suspected the stories I told about him were made up, to keep you guessing about me and my past."
If Peter had a complaint, it was the fact that secrets from Neal's past kept bubbling up. The kid still had some learning to do regarding the concept of full disclosure, but they were working on it. If 2004 had been the year Neal had learned to let family into his life, maybe 2005 would be the year he learned to trust his family — especially uncle-by-marriage Peter — to accept him and all of his past exploits and flaws.
It wouldn't be easy. Neal had been a con artist for a long time and had gotten into the habit of presenting the smooth image of someone too perfect to be real. He kept his fears and doubts hidden. He'd even repressed parts of his past so deeply that he'd forgotten certain events, but those memories resurfaced last year. And this year was off to a good start, with Neal sharing a story in which he admitted to being afraid of letting more people into his life.
There was a little brandy left his in glass, and Peter raised it again. At the wedding that united the Burke and Caffrey families on New Year's Day, Henry had made a toast that resonated with Peter now, and he repeated the ending. "To family."
Neal and El raised their glasses. "To family!"