This of course, brings me to my sister, Grace. Grace Keenan Booth would be what some would describe as a perfect physical reflection of my mother, but with the heart and drive of my father. She pushes the limits of everything she touches. She was born premature, and was always small for her age, but what she lacked in size, her personality made up for in spades. The baby of the family, the spark on the fuse of a stick of dynamite, Gracie always exceeded expectations in the most explosive ways. That just goes to say, that Dad was not particularly pleased when she decided to become a Metro cop.
Booth walked into the kitchen to see his daughter leaning over a pile of papers at the table, her dark curls rolling over the pages as she neatly wrote into the required boxes.
"Hey, Gracie girl." He said, smiling as her blue eyes flashed up to glitter at her father. "Another college application?"
"Nope." She replied, looking back at her papers, she continued her paperwork.
"What's this?" he asked, stepping to the table, he reached over to pick up a paper and was quickly denied by a quick moving hand, smacking it down onto the table.
"Nothing." She muttered, knowing full well that her father could see clearly the seal on the paper that she was writing on.
"Grace, that's an application to…"
"I know what it is, Dad." She said, looking up at her father, she put her pen down. She could see a shadow of concern in his eyes as he pulled at a chair, sitting down beside her, he looked through the paperwork on the table and cleared his throat, his eyes clashing with her defiant stare. "I want to do this."
"Grace." He said simply.
"Dad, there is no use arguing with me about this."
"It's dangerous."
"Yeah, well… so is walking across the street. I could get hit by a bus. But if I never tried crossing the street, then I'd never know what was on the other side." She paused. "Don't you dare make a chicken joke." Her steely blue eyes were narrowed as she pointed her pen in his direction.
"I wasn't going to make a chicken joke." He said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Geez…" He said, shaking his head. "Sorry, I won't egg you on." He said as he stood up.
"Dad." She said with a frustrated roll of her eyes.
"Grace, we've talked about this before." He said, pulling the papers off the table, he started looking through them. "You are barely out of high school. You need to get through some college, get a formal education, preferably in something that doesn't require you to carry a gun. Maybe you could be a librarian, or an accountant." He said in a fatherly tone, not really thinking about what he was saying. He shuffled the papers a little, and looked at her with a sideways glance. "Though some accountants probably should carry guns."
"Dad, stop. You're getting them mixed up." Grace stood up and grabbed the papers from his hands, her face burning with frustration. "I am going to be 21 years old, and I can make my own decisions, okay?"
"Your mother and I don't support your decision." He raised his eyebrows and took a slow, deep breath through his nose. He leaned down and looked at her eyes, noting the glower that reminded him far too much of his wife. "You have to disclose everything, Grace." He said, his tone deep and serious.
"So?" She replied, standing up. "I've completed the 60 college credits that are required." She said, pointing to her transcript. "I haven't had a seizure in over ten years, making that particular fact null and void. I am in peak physical shape." She said, standing up. "And nothing that I have done in my past was either criminal nor negligent, so I think that I've got a pretty good chance of passing all of the psychological, physical, and educational requirements." She said, standing to face her father, face to face. "I'm going to be a cop, Dad. Whether you like it or not."
This was almost three years ago, of course. She made it through the academy at the top of her class, and while my father and mother vehemently opposed her decision, they were proud of her nonetheless. She never asked my opinion, but that wasn't something new. Grace and I are polar opposites. I am the brain, and she is the heart. That's at least how my father liked to describe it, and has since we were little girls. This dichotomy between my sister and I isn't enough to cause a rift, but there is a disconnect, a connection that was never forged between us, that sometimes feels like it is expanding.
I think that I've imposed enough exposition on all of you. Let's just let the story speak for itself. There are other players that you will meet along the way, but for now you may just want to stick with the above. The story speaks for itself, and I believe we were about here….
December 25th
It was a distant sensation at first, the tickling in Booth's nose. The smell of baby shampoo mixed with cherries and peppermint wafted to his senses. When his eyes opened, his view was a messy tangle of curly light brown hair. When he moved his head slightly, he could feel tiny fingers at his chest, rolling the t-shirt he was wearing beneath them. His movement caused the fingers to stop, and the head to lift.
Staring back at him, were two dark brown eyes, bright with curiosity and happiness. "Hi."
Booth smiled tenderly at the little boy, catching the glint of mischievousness in his eyes. "Somebody has been sleeping in my bed…" he whispered.
"Are you gonna huff, and puff, and blow my house down?" the boy whispered, his voice soft with a tinge of humor.
"Wrong story."
"Oh." He smiled. "Merry Christmas, Pops."
"Merry Christmas, Luke." Booth whispered. He rolled onto his back and spied his sleeping wife, their other grandson, Nate was curled up beside her, and she had wrapped her arm protectively around him. "I think we're the only ones awake."
"Me too." Luke whispered back. "Can we see if Santa came, Pops?"
"We should wait for Nate, and Bones, and daddy, don't you think?"
"And Auntie G, and Auntie Toni?" Luke whispered.
"Probably. They did say that they were coming over early today, didn't they?"
"Uh huh," he nodded.
"We may as well just go back to sleep." Booth said, closing his eyes.
"No!" Luke squeaked, sending Booth's eyes wide open in faux surprise, a look of fear flashed over the boy's face and Booth made a face, sending him into a cascade of giggles. "Pops, it's time to get up!"
"What's all of the commotion over there?" Temperance mumbled from the other side of the bed, looking up to see her grandson's curly head poking up from the other side of her husband.
"Someone thinks they behaved enough this year for Santa to visit." Booth replied.
"You mean the boy that put a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the scanner?" Temperance replied.
"That was Nate," Luke replied, glancing to Booth. "And it was a fluffernutter sammich."
"Hm…" Temperance nodded sleepily. "I think I need five more minutes of beauty sleep." She mumbled, rolling back over.
"Come on, Bones. You're beauteous enough." Luke replied, crawling over his grandfather, he stuck his lower lip out like a pro, and fluttered his eyelashes.
Temperance opened her eyes, and turned her head, looking at the boy curiously. "Where did you learn that?" she asked curiously, watching the sly smile on the boy's face, she felt the child beside her start to stir.
"Did Santa come yet?" Nate asked, sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and looked around.
"Go get your dad up, and we'll go see." Booth said, as the twins let out a cheerful yell and clamored off the bed, stomping their way out into the hallway and down toward the room where Parker was staying.
"Let them spend the night, you said." Booth mumbled, watching Temperance eye him. "It will be fun, you said. They're only going to be four years old once, you said."
"Oh, stop being an old grouch." Temperance said, rolling over away from him, he instantly put his arm around her and his chin on her shoulder. He pulled her against him and sighed.
"I am not old."
"Don't pretend that you didn't have fun with them last night."
"That was before I had a permanent imprint of a toddler's foot embedded in my spleen," he muttered.
She rolled over in his arms and faced him, leaning forward to capture his lips with hers. They heard the pounding of little feet again and he smiled against her mouth. "We had better get downstairs before the natives get restless."
"You go down and turn the lights of the Christmas tree on," she whispered. "I'll call the girls and make sure they're on their way over."
"That's a deal." He said, rolling out of bed, he stood up and stretched, feeling his bones crackle and pop. He glanced to Temperance, and she gave him a sideways glance that made him glare playfully. "I'm not old." He said, watching her eyebrows lift, he shook his head and turned toward the door.
He stepped out into the hallway and the twins barreled down the hallway toward him. Quickly, he scooped them both up, one on each arm and groaned as his back ached. "Your Pops is getting old." He muttered. "Just don't tell Bones I said that." He said, as both boys put their fingers on their lips and whispered 'shh'. "Ready to go downstairs?" He asked, as both heads bobbed happily, and grins replaced their solemn secret faces.
He smiled and walked down the steps, listening to creaking of the stairs with each step, and remembered the same trip with his girls. He had just reached the bottom of the steps with the boys and over to the light switch for the outlet the tree was hooked to. The gasps of the two little boys brightened his heart as he let out a bit of a laugh. He looked up to see Parker coming quickly down the stairs, his eyes glittering just as they had when he was a little boy.
"It's about time you made an appearance." Booth teased his son as he rubbed his eyes.
"I didn't have much time for sleep." He said, nodding toward the tree, as it overflowed with gifts in it, under it, and around it. Every corner was filled with a brightly wrapped package and the boys wiggled to free themselves from their grandfather's grasp.
"Hey, hey…. Not so fast." Parker said, scooping up Nate, who had already wrangled himself from Booth's arms and was being held by the scruff of his pajamas. "We have to wait for Toni and Grace."
Temperance stepped to the bottom of the stairs and gave Parker a loving peck on his cheek. "You did a very nice job."
"Thanks, Bones."
"Nice job with what?" Luke asked, ever curious to be part of the conversation.
"A nice job with minding my own business." Parker said, taking Luke from Booth as he moved toward the kitchen. "Breakfast first, then maybe my lazy sisters will be here."
"But Daddy, Santa left all of those presents for me!" Nate said, wiggling in his father's arms as Parker went into the kitchen with the two boys struggling.
"I'll go help him." Temperance said, walking toward the kitchen.
"Bones." Booth called, and she turned around. "The girls?"
"Antonia is just leaving, and I couldn't get Grace. She's probably on her way over." Temperance said as she turned and walked into the kitchen. Booth could hear her voice talking to the kids and he smiled, stepping over to the Christmas tree. He crouched by the tree and looked over a couple of the gifts that he had placed there. Every year, each of his children would get something special, something memorable, something meaningful from their father. This year was no exception. Carefully, he placed Grace, Antonia, and Parker's gifts beneath the tree. He was just standing up when the doorbell rang, and he called to Temperance that he'd get it.
He furrowed his brow as he crossed to the door. He saw a police cruiser in the driveway, and didn't think anything of it. Since Grace had graduated from the police academy, it was very common for her to drive over with the cruiser. What confused him, was that she never rang the doorbell. He opened door, expecting to see his daughter's smiling face, and instead was looking into the eyes of a familiar male officer. "Shane?" Booth addressed Grace's partner and boyfriend. "You got here before Grace for once. That's a change of pace." He joked.
"Sir." Shane paused.
Booth could literally feel the color fall from his face when he saw the look in the officer's eyes. He was speechless.
"Sir, it's Grace…" The officer faltered. "She's been shot."
"Booth?" Temperance's voice echoed through the hollow, ringing sound in his ears. "Booth, who is it?"