Chapter 7
"Letting Go"
Nate soared through the air. The sound of the wind whistling by his ears brought back memories from his childhood.
"I can swing higher than you," Natalie giggled.
"You can try," he replied with a laugh, "but I'm an expert."
"So am I," she called back.
He remembered how he drove his mother crazy when he would jump off a swing at its highest point and fly through the air, before landing on his feet. The object of this activity was not only to feel weightless, but to see how great of a distance he could travel. He wondered how far he could leap now. He thought it was better not to try because Natalie would follow suit, and if she injured herself, Steve would not be happy.
"Doesn't swinging make you want to fly?" Natalie asked.
Yeah, Nate thought. There were many times he wished he could fly. As a kid he had dreams he was flying, unhindered by anything, but now his dreams were not so pleasant.
"Watch this, Uncle Nate," she squealed.
Before Nate had a chance to react, Natalie let go of the chains on the swing and did exactly what he had refrained from doing. "Natalie!" he yelled.
She flew through the air and landed perfectly. Turning around to face him, she raised her arms in triumph. "Your turn!" she said, gleefully.
Nate thought about it for a moment. He really wanted to jump off, but he was not sure if he should encourage swing jumping.
"Come on," Natalie coaxed. "You're not chicken are you?"
He grinned and pumped his legs harder, causing the ache in his ribs to intensify, but he decided it was well worth the discomfort. The swing went back and forth, back and forth, until finally, Nate released his hands from around the chains and flew through the air. For a fleeting moment, he was free.
Natalie clapped her hands in delight as he hit the ground far beyond her mark. "Uncle Nate, that was outrageous!"
"Outrageous?" he laughed.
"It was awesome!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down.
"You bet it was."
"Let's do it again," she said, running for the swing.
"Whoa," he said, catching her in his arm, "let's not flirt with disaster."
Natalie's mouth opened wide. "Mommy said I shouldn't flirt." Then a puzzled expression crossed her face. "What does that mean anyway?"
Nate did not want to explain flirting to an eight year old. "It means we shouldn't do it again."
She frowned at him, not satisfied with his answer, but she let it go. Taking his hand, she ushered him over to the play structure that resembled a castle, at least in her eyes.
A little girl about her age came sliding down the slide and shortly after an identical one followed. They smiled at Natalie and one of them called, "Do you wanna play with us?"
Natalie seemed uncertain and she looked to Nate for guidance. "Go ahead, I'll sit right over there," he said, pointing to a wooden bench. She still seemed hesitant and he added, "I'm not going anywhere. Go have fun."
Natalie slowly walked toward the girls. She looked back at Nate and he gave her a nod of encouragement before she joined the twins in their game.
"Is that your daughter?" an elderly woman asked from beside him.
"My niece," Nate said. He was surprised at how easily the word "niece" flowed off his tongue.
"She's adorable," the woman replied. "The girls she's playing with are my granddaughters." He nodded his head in response and she continued, "I have them everyday after school. They are so wonderful and they never give me an ounce of trouble."
Before she could praise her granddaughters any more, they heard a shriek and saw one of the twins kneeling on the ground beneath the monkey bars.
"Oh, that's Madelyn," the grandmother said. "She'll cry if she only stubs her toe. Please excuse me."
Nate sat down on the wooden bench and crossed his arms. His eyes followed Natalie as she raced across the plastic bridge that connected two green towers on the play structure. She waved excitedly at him before she slid down a pole and scampered up a set of stairs, with Madelyn's sister close at her heels.
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him. Natalie seemed content and unafraid as she played; showing no signs of her distress from the previous night. He remembered how scared she was after the nightmare about her father. It tore Nate up inside, knowing he would be causing the little girl more emotional trauma by freeing her father.
The thing that agonized him the most was that she trusted him completely. She even thought he was some kind of superhero who would always keep her safe. How super would he be if she ever learned what he was about to do. His fears about Steve's reaction lessened in comparison to his concern about how it would affect Natalie.
He ran a hand over his face as the guilt already plaguing him heightened to an almost unbearable degree. How can I go through with this? he thought.
"Nathan," a familiar voice addressed him.
Nate closed his eyes. That voice. His full first name. Not now, he thought.
"You were never one for procrastinating, but I'm beginning to wonder because here you are playing at the park and you had dinner plans last evening and then again tonight. Is there a problem I should be aware of?"
Nate did not answer his boss for a long moment. When at last he responded, his voice was quiet. "I don't know if I can do it."
The older man sat down next to him, a grave expression etched on his face. His light blue eyes scanned the playground as he waited for Nate to continue.
"I've always done whatever you asked of me," Nate said. His words felt like dust in his mouth. "There is more at stake here than I anticipated. I didn't realize how much…"
"A little girl could change your life?" his boss finished.
Nate looked at the older man, whose gaze was fixed upon Natalie. His boss understood.
"Children are a curious thing," his boss reflected. "They can change the course of your life, but then, you can change the course of theirs." The two men sat engulfed in their silence as clouds drifted by overhead and the little girl they watched laughed and ran; oblivious that she was the object of their musings. The older man finally stood and looked down at Nate through his sunglasses. "Well then," he said, "goodbye, Nathan." Without another word, he turned and left.
Nate let out a relieved sigh and slouched against the back of the bench. He felt he had just let go of a burden that had been too much for him to carry, but almost as soon as it was gone it was replaced by a sense of guilt for letting his boss down. It'll be okay, he thought shaking his head. It has to be.
He noticed the twins leaving with their grandmother. The older woman caught his eye and waved quickly before turning her attention back to her granddaughters. Natalie came toward him dragging her feet. She plopped herself on the bench and rested her head against him.
"I'm thirsty," she said, wiping her sweat covered brow.
Nate put his arm around her. "Should we do something about that?"
She nodded and then asked, "Uncle Nate?"
"Yeah?"
"Do I know that man you were talking to?"
"I don't know, do you?" Nate replied.
She closed her eyes, searching through memories as she tried to place the man. "I can't remember."
"Well, maybe he looks like someone you've met before."
"Maybe…"
"How about we get you something to drink and maybe along the way we'll find some ice cream."
Her light blue eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yeah, and then we can go home and hit the water."
"Why would we hit the water?"
"I mean go swimming."
"Oh, that sounds great."
Nate smiled and standing up he took her hand in his. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Do you want to drive?"
* * * * * * H50 * * * * * *
Steve arrived home shortly after five o'clock, more than ready for a little shut eye. He knew that was not an option for at least several more hours. He had just finished a lengthy conversation with Mrs. Schofield concerning Natalie and before it became too late in the day he would need to call Alex to fill her in on the details. As soon as he showered and changed he and Natalie would be heading over to the Reilly's for dinner.
He sat on the couch and removed his boots and socks. Enjoying the stillness of the house, he leaned back and rested until the sound of laughter drew his attention outside.
He moved to the double doors at the back of the house and walked out onto the patio. To his right on the table, he noticed two glasses of what appeared to be lemonade, with ice that resembled chips more than the cubes they once were. There were two sets of wet, sandy footprints on the patio bricks and he assumed the owners of the glasses had recently been out of the water for a drink.
He crossed the grass and stepped onto the warm sand, feeling the tiny particles compress under his feet. Standing on the edge where the dry and wet sand met, he enjoyed the sight of Natalie and Nate jumping through the small waves as they drifted toward the shore.
"Daddy!" Natalie squealed. She fought the push and pull of the water in an attempt to reach him quickly. Stumbling onto the sand she shrieked, "I missed you!"
Steve took a step back as he eyed her dripping hands coming toward him. "Whoa, let's get you a towel," he suggested.
"So, it's okay for you to touch people when you're wet, but not the other way around, huh?" Nate teased as he trudged out of the water, his gray swim shirt clinging to his chest.
"Are you kidding? Alex wanted to get wet," Steve defended himself.
"I don't think so, Daddy," Natalie corrected him, wrapping her wet arms around his waist.
"Hey!" Steve exclaimed.
"Now you know how it feels," Natalie said, giving him a dimpled grin.
"Just for that I'm giving you a spin dry," he said.
"What's a spin dry?"
He smiled and tossed her over his shoulder, spinning around until he was sure she had enough.
"That was fun," Natalie giggled, "but now you're really wet."
Steve shook his head and put her down. "Did you have fun this afternoon?" he asked the little girl as they all turned to walk back to the house.
"Uh-huh," she said. "We went to the park and Uncle Nate asked me if I wanted to drive." Steve shot a questioning look to Nate, who shrugged in reply. "But he said he was joking, and then we had ice cream," Natalie finished as she wrapped up in a brightly colored beach towel.
"Did you bring me any ice cream?" Steve asked, glancing at his watch.
"Um…I ate it all," Natalie confessed.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Turning to his brother he said, "Hey, don't you have somewhere you need to be soon?"
"Oh, yeah," Nate replied. "I guess it's getting late."
"You're not gonna be here with us?" Natalie frowned.
"I'm going out to dinner with Danny, Chin and Kono," Nate answered.
A smile tiptoed across Natalie's lips at the idea of her uncle going out to dinner with Kono.
"What's that smile for?" Steve asked.
"Oh, nothing," she said, skipping into the house.
* * * * * * H50 * * * * * *
"How do I look?" Nate asked, spreading his arms wide.
Natalie looked at him with a critical eye. "Turn please," she directed, twirling her index finger in the air.
From where he was seated on the couch, Steve cleared his throat to keep from laughing. Nate shot him a glance, daring him to laugh. Then he proceeded to do as the little girl requested.
"Hmm," Natalie pondered. "I like your blue shirt."
"That's all I get?" Nate said, looking down at his attire.
This time Steve laughed and Nate scowled at him.
"You're the most handsomest, Uncle Nate," Natalie complimented.
Nate grinned in triumph.
"Hey," Steve fussed. "What about me?"
"Oh, you too, Daddy," Natalie consoled him, "but Uncle Nate is all dressed up."
"So, I'm good to go?" Nate questioned her.
"I think your hair needs some attention," she told him.
"Really?" he said, running his fingers through his dark, brown hair.
"Wait right there." She scrambled up the stairs and returned quickly with a comb.
"Where did you get that?" Steve said.
"Um…from your room," Natalie confessed.
"Here use mine," Nate offered, producing a comb from the inside pocket of his blazer.
"Okay, here, Daddy," she said, tossing the comb to Steve.
"Thanks," he replied.
Natalie dragged Nate into the other room and directed him to one of the chairs. She pulled another chair behind his and knelt on the seat. "Now hold still," she commanded.
She began to comb his hair forward and then backward, side to side and forward again.
"What are you doing up there?" Nate asked.
"Exercising your hair," Natalie said. "Doesn't it feel good?"
"I guess so, but I have to leave."
She nodded and combed his hair into a style she thought was nice. "Your hair is a little longer than daddy's, but not as curly," she commented and then began humming for a few moments before continuing to speak. "Uncle Nate, do you like Chin?"
Nate was wondering where that question came from and where it was going. "Yeah, I like Chin."
"Do you like Danny?"
"Yeah," Nate said, wishing he could see the expression on her face.
"Do you like me?"
"I love you."
Natalie smiled. "Do you lo-ike Kono?"
This was where it was going. He caught the stumble on the word "like" because she really wanted to say "love". "Kono's nice."
"How nice?"
"Are you finished with my hair, yet?"
She put the comb down and held onto his shoulders. "You didn't answer my question."
"Really?" he said standing up. "I'm sure I did."
"Uncle Nate," she pouted, standing up on her chair. "I have to know."
"If there are any changes from what I told you, you'll be the first to know," he promised, kissing her cheek. He grabbed his comb, left her standing on the chair, said goodbye to Steve and exited the house.
* * * * * * H50 * * * * * *
The aroma of Henri Reilly's famous hamburgers sizzling on the grill was enough to make even the most finicky eater's mouth water. If that was not enough to tempt the palate, his homemade fries cooked in peanut oil would draw them in. This meal meant that Henri's wife, Hannah, was out of the house and Admiral Reilly was at the helm.
Even Steve McGarrett feasted on this cholesterol collision course meal. In fact, it was one of the things that he had been particularly fond of during the four years he had dated Alex.
"Sir, a person hasn't lived until they've eaten one your burgers," Steve praised.
The older man wiped his mouth and smiled. It would take Steve a long time to get used to calling him Henri.
Steve leaned back in his chair and continued, "Can you please tell me how to make these?"
"That means I would have to reveal my secret ingredient," Henri replied.
"Either you give it out, or, well, you've seen me interrogate people," Steve smirked. Henri chuckled at his comment.
"Papa, can I have more fries, please?" Natalie asked.
"You bet, sweetie," Henri said. "We need to eat all of them before Nana gets back," he said, winking at the little girl.
"Where did Nana go anyway?"
"She went out with her good friend."
"Who's that?"
"Governor Jameson," Henri responded.
"Is that an important person?" Natalie wondered, munching on a fry.
"Very important," Henri said, clearing the dirty dishes from the table. "She's your daddy's boss."
"You have a boss, Daddy?" she said amazed. "I thought you were the boss?"
The two men laughed. "Everyone has a boss," Steve told her. "Even me."
Natalie was having a hard time wrapping her little mind around that thought. She could not imagine anyone ordering her daddy around.
"I'll clean up while you two relax," Henri offered.
"Natty, why don't you come outside and we'll sit on the swing and have our little talk," Steve said.
She pushed her chair back from the table and reluctantly followed him, unsure of where this talk would lead. "Daddy" was supposed to be fun. From everything she could remember, he had never put her in a time out, never scolded or punished her, but ever since they had been reunited, things had changed.
Natalie always had the sense when Steve said something you did it, but it did not keep her from testing the limits out for herself.
They sat on the swing together and Steve rocked it gently back and forth with his feet while Natalie's legs dangled off the front of the wooden seat.
"Do you want to tell me what happened in school this morning?" Steve asked, looking down at her.
Natalie was studying his watch, circling the face with her index finger, unwilling to respond.
"Hey," he said, tilting his head downward. "Look at me." The little girl pressed the button that lit up the screen on his watch and repeated the action several times before he covered her hand with his and insisted, "Natalie, look at me." She begrudgingly did as he requested and he continued, "Tell me what happened in school this morning."
"I'm not writing that last name," she huffed, folding her arms tightly across her chest.
"Do you mean Keller?" Steve asked.
"I hate that name," she scowled.
The little girl's countenance shocked Steve. He had never seen such a hardened expression on her face. "Do you hate the name or the man who gave it to you?" Steve questioned.
"Both."
"You know your mother's last name was Keller."
"Yeah, and she died," Natalie countered. "That's how much she liked the name."
Her words were morbid and blunt and they took Steve by surprise. He did not realize how much anger she harbored against her father. Mrs. Schofield had suggested Natalie be encouraged to talk about her father and the way she felt toward him. Discussing Paul Keller was a difficult task for Steve, but if it would help Natalie he would do it.
Steve knew this question was a long shot, but maybe there was at least one good memory of her father that would help ease the little girl's anger toward him. "Do you remember anything about your father from when you were younger?" Steve asked.
"He's not my father!" she insisted.
"I know you're angry with him, but he is-"
"I don't want to talk about this any more," Natalie snapped at him. "I wanna go in!"
Steve pressed his lips together, frowning in concentration. He did not like the tone in her voice. "When you speak to me, you need to do it respectfully," he corrected her. "Do you hear me?"
She blinked at him several times, stunned by his reprimand. "Yes," she mumbled.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Daddy."
* * * * * * H50 * * * * * *
Henri sat in his recliner reading his worn copy of War and Peace. He had begun reading this book while Hannah was pregnant with their eldest daughter, Abby, and he was somewhat embarrassed to confess how long ago that actually had been. He was determined to complete the book before his youngest daughter, Alex, married Steve.
It was a stiff deadline, even though a date had not been set, because if he knew anything about Steve McGarrett, he knew they would be married as soon as possible.
The stomping of a little girl's feet caused Henri to look over his reading glasses as Natalie entered the family room. She went over to a set of small, sturdy chairs and a table and pulled out one of the seats and plopped herself down. Grabbing a colored pencil and a piece of paper from the stack on the table, she began to draw.
Seconds later, Steve walked in with a weary, but not defeated look on his face. With purpose, he crossed the room and sat in the little chair across from her, taking his own paper and pencil.
The sight amused Henri greatly. He pretended to read his book, but all the while he watched the interaction between the Navy SEAL and his little girl.
Natalie pretended she did not want to know what Steve was drawing. He had his left arm positioned in such a way that hid the colored drawings he made. She was still miffed by his reprimand, but every chance possible, when his head was lowered in concentration; she tried to sneak a glimpse of his picture.
It was during such a moment that he finally said, "Do you want to see what I'm doing?"
Again she feigned disinterest, but her curiosity won out. "If you want to show me."
Steve tried hard not to smile and he heard Henri clear his throat from behind his book. He slid his paper over in front of Natalie, carefully watching her reaction.
"What's this about?" she asked.
"This is me," he said, pointing to one of the figures. "And this is mommy, tied to a chair and I think you know who this is." He pointed to another figure which represented Paul Keller. Natalie's face darkened and he knew she understood this was the night she and Alex had been kidnapped and brought to the abandoned warehouse. "This is when I found out you were in trouble," Steve added.
Natalie traced imaginary shapes on the table as she asked, "What did you do to the bad man? Why did they take him away in an ambulance?"
Steve noticed how she called her father the "bad man". "He fell off some shelves in the warehouse," Steve replied.
"Oh," Natalie said, sounding disappointed. "I thought you beat him up."
"Is that what you wanted me to do?"
"Yes."
Steve nodded his head, acknowledging her answer. "Beating someone up doesn't make you feel better."
"It would make me feel better."
The way she spoke those words with such conviction, scared Steve a little. He was listening to an eight year old voice his own thoughts. He remembered that morning and the intense desire he had to pulverize Keller. If it had not been for Danny, he would have done so. At that moment it hit him, whether or not Natalie knew what he did, his actions were telling her "do what I do". That responsibility intimidated him.
"He deserved to get beat up," Natalie pronounced, tears welling up in her eyes.
Here Steve was only trying to gather information about the mysterious "flashlight guy" and he was uncovering these dark thoughts from his sweet little girl. He looked over at Henri, who by this time had set aside his book and was watching Natalie intently.
"You should have beat 'em up!" She stood up suddenly. "Why didn't you beat him, Daddy?" she demanded.
Steve was stunned by her outburst. "Natty, I-"
"He hit me, Daddy!" she cried fiercely. "He hit me!" Tears began to spill down her flushed cheeks. "He hit me!" she screamed. In frustration she swept the table clear of the paper and pencils. "I hate him! I hate him!" With those words she crumbled to the floor and curled up on her side, wailing miserably.
Steve was unable to move for a moment as he gazed down at the little girl. Uncertainty, held him fast. What could he say? What was he supposed to do?
Finally, instinct, compassion, or a father's need to comfort his hurting child, compelled him forward. He stumbled slightly before laying down on his side next to Natalie. Then wrapping a reassuring arm around her, he pulled her up against himself. For the moment, she did not need him to say anything. She just needed him to be her daddy.
A/N: Thank you for reading.
Krishnaa, I hope you liked this chapter. There will be more Nate to come. :)
I want to thank atr324 because I can't message you back. I really appreciate your comments.
A big thank you to Shakespeare's Lemonade and to my personal writing assistant, my mother.