If any of you manages to get all the references (mostly to one particular show and two of its actors), I may be nice enough to keep writing lengthy chapters like this one :)) a thanks you to my beta partypantscuddy and to Sheis1963 who's always willing to smack me and all my self-doubting.

Chapter 13

6 months after Mr. Thompson's death

"Celeste?"

"Yes, grandma?"

"Dinner is ready." She said with a small smile.

"Thank you." Celeste replied. She closed her small blue diary, leaving the pen inside as a bookmark, before sitting up from the vintage chaise longue under the window. Her grandmother waited for her at the door and as the girl made her way towards her, the older woman extended her arms, welcoming the girl into a tight hug.
Alexandra Elizabeth was a tall and curvy woman. The years might have taken the auburn from her hair but had left the blue-green of her eyes intact. She had always been a gorgeous woman, overly extroverted, with absolutely no ability to maintain a bit of privacy, or modesty. She was exuberant, artistic, and so very lovely.
Kissing the top of her head, she gave her one more squeeze before freeing her from her arms and leading her towards the dining room.

This house was bigger than the one her grandparents used to own in the city. The English countryside had helped her grandmother deal with the "end" of her marriage a couple years before.
The London house was her grandfather's and since her grandparents' separation, Celeste had only managed to visit him once, unable to understand why a happy and serene couple such as them, suddenly decided to separate. There had been no torrid affairs, no lies and no tricks. As far as Celeste knew, they only wanted more space for themselves. Go figure themselves out.

At the age of fourteen, Celeste had been the mind behind many choices her grandmother made regarding the design of the medium sized cottage. At first she was asked to decide what she wanted in her room but after her parents and grandmother were completely shocked by her artistic talent and knowing that money was not a problem, the teenager had helped choose the style, the colours and the furniture for most of the rooms, including her granddad's office that he would use whenever he came to visit. It was one of Celeste's favourite rooms. Books scattered everywhere, unfinished paintings in every corner and part of his guitars collection decked the main wall.
Except for that room, the simple yet elegant style of a small cottage immersed in the Tuscany landscape was the trademark design of the house and Celeste couldn't help but be proud of all her hard work.
The spacious garden had been treated to a complete renewal, but that was all her mother and grandmother's doing. An ancient olive tree stood in the middle of a well-kept jungle of colourful flowers. Alliums were everywhere. Those big flowery balls have always made Celeste laugh. "The most ridiculous flower in the universe" she had called them more than once.

Descending the stairs, Celeste thought about all of this, about all the nice memories this house held in its walls. When she finally reached the dining room, she spotted a third plate and an empty vase sitting at the other end of the table. The door to the garden was open and a light breeze was coming in, mixing the sweet smell of the flowers with the spicy and warm scent of dinner.

"Gram, want me to go get some flowers?" she asked.

"There's no need, my love. Your grandfather is already out in the garden." the woman said from the kitchen. "Now, could you come help me?"

"Sure..." Celeste as she walked towards her grandmother. "So... why is granddad here?"

"Well, he has just flown back from Australia. He's been gone for eight months and he wants to see you. You haven't visited him in ages, sweetheart."

"When did he get here? I didn't hear a thing." she asked, mixing the salad. "And as far as I remember, gramps is a total klutz!" she concluded with a small laugh.

"You were taking a nap." the older woman said, smiling. "You were sleeping so deeply, you didn't hear him stumbling into your room, almost taking the door down."

"I'm the clumsiest old oaf on the face of the planet, ain't I?" a third voice came from behind them.

"Gramps!" Celeste squealed, throwing herself into her grandfather's arms. "You should have woken me up when you first got here!" The girl smirked as her grandfather slightly cringed at her American accent.

"You were sleeping like a rock, sweetie. And grandma told me you haven't been sleeping well since you got here." he said, smiling sadly. Celeste nodded against his chest, savouring the warmth persona of her grandfather.
Matthew was a tall, lanky man that shared the same grace and mobility of "a drunken baby giraffe on a sugar rush", as Celeste described him every time in front of family and friends. He was a very peculiar man. His jovial and clumsy personality would leave in the very moment he'd step foot in his classroom. Celeste used to spend hours, wrapped in a blanket, listening to him talk and talk about the most random of things. Just like his wife, he had a very artistic temperament when he wasn't working: needless to say, when he reached the age of 50, he decided that his first name didn't suit him anymore; and that young hopeful Matthew should become the older and still hopeful Robert.

Lost in her thoughts, Celeste didn't notice his arms snaking around her small waist 'till he started tickling her.

"Graaaamps, stop tickling me! I'm a grown up!" she shrieked trying to find refuge behind her grandmother.

"I will never stop tickling you and you, missy, know why I'm doing this." he said, smirking.

"Oh Robert, leave her alone!" his wife told him.

"Gramps, I'm not going to do that!"

"Then prepare to be tickled till you can't breathe anymore." he said, lunging for her.

"Nooo, okay... okay... I give up." Celeste said, finally allowing herself to switch to a proper English accent.

"See? It comes so natural to you, I don't why you are so stubborn."

"Just because you teach at Royal Holloway and have a kink for Shakespeare doesn't mean I have to speak like an old lady."

"Hey!" both her grandparents said at the same time.

"Respect Willy!" her grandmother said in a menacing way, trying not to smirk.

"We Britons don't speak like old ladies. Our accent is classy and elegant." the man continued.

"Believe what you want, old man!" Celeste said, popping a slice of tomato in her mouth.

"Liz, tell me that cottage pie will be ready soon... I'm starving and I bet this mean, overly American girl is hungry too." he said, stealing the bowl containing the salad from Celeste's greedy hands and holding it up.

"Yes, grandma. I'm a bit peckish." She said, before walking out the room, laughing.

"She is something, isn't she?" Robert commented, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"She is." Elizabeth said, walking closer to him and gently wrapping her arms around his neck. "She's better now, you know." she sighed, as her husband's arms wrapped themselves around her tiny waist. "When she got here with Rose and John, she wouldn't get out of her room, wouldn't eat and she still has problems sleeping. During the first month she used to wake up 2 or 3 times every night screaming. She still hasn't really talked about what has happened. She won't let anyone in."

"Are you done snogging?" Celeste's mocking question came through the door. "I'm starting to get really hungry here!"

Robert kissed the crown of his wife's head and tightened his embrace before slowly letting her go.

"Let's have dinner now. We'll talk later."

"Hey baby girl, what are you doing up? It's 4 in the morning."

Robert entered the unlit kitchen carefully. Celeste was facing the window, a huge jumper and pink woollen socks which shone thanks to the last remains of moonlight.

It hit Robert how tiny his granddaughter really was. The white overused jumper covered most of her frame till just above her knees. It was Andrew's. Her father's. His son-in-law used to wear that often and as a kid, Celeste would snuggle up against his father's side and stroke the wool and remark about its softness. He had seen her do that plenty of times, but now everything was different.

Andrew couldn't wear that jumper any more. Celeste couldn't cuddle on the couch with her father.

She was alone.

When she finally heard her grandfather, Celeste shook her head and took a deep breath. Her hands immediately went to her eyes, trying to wipe away the tears that had fallen and kept falling down her cheeks.

"You are allowed to cry, Celeste." He said, walking towards the kitchen counter. "I'm going to put the kettle on, make us some more tea and if you want, we can talk. I'm not going to pressure you into anything." He continued, filling the kettle with water and taking two clean cups out. "We can talk about the weather... about the latest book we read... whatever you feel like talking about, I'm here."

Celeste still hadn't moved. Her eyes were fixed on something in the garden. Her blue eyes shone with fresh tears and Robert could see the gentle quivering of her lower lips.

"Cry." he whispered. "You have the right to cry."

A few minutes passed and Celeste was still giving her back to him. He filled the mugs with her favourite brand of tea, added some milk to both cups and just a tiny bit of sugar in Celeste's.

"Your tea is here. I'll be right outside the veranda."

"I met my biological mother." Celeste said from the door. "Dad insisted I met her so I wouldn't be alone once he was gone." she paused. "And here I am. Alone."

Robert lifted the blanket he was sitting under and let Celeste huddle herself under it. She took a sip from her cup before continuing.

"Not that she didn't try contacting me. She tried calling me but I never picked up the phone. She texts me every now and then, at first to ask me how I was doing but lately she's texting me random notes about her life back in Princeton…She's beautiful and has a killer career. She's like the super boss in this hospital in Princeton. She has a boyfriend, very handsome and funny. He emailed me last week. Sent me an embarrassing photo of Lisa..." she chuckled.

"I think she deserves a family. They deserve one. And I'm not part of that. Not because they don't want me... they have been great to me, they have been there the whole time while dad was in the hospital... but... everything has happened so fast, I just... I can't, you know. I can't return to the States and live with them, knowing that I am a burden to them. Because that's what I am. I am a burden. To everyone. To Lisa, to House, to grandma and to you..."

Tears were streaming down her face, but her voice didn't falter. The once joyful tone of her voice, was now a monotonous cry for help and understanding.

"Celeste, my darling child." Robert said, hugging the girl to his side. "You're everything to us. You are the most precious of gifts." he paused for a moment, letting Celeste's sobs slow down. "Andrew, your father, he called me last year, told me about your biological mother and what I told him is the same thing I'm about to tell you. Your biological mother made a choice sixteen years ago; she made the best choice for you because she gave you to my daughter and her husband. Two wonderful people who helped you grown up into this beautiful, clever and caring young woman. And I couldn't be more proud of them and of you... You might not know it now but you're family to her. You're her daughter. And just like your grandmother and I, she wants what's best for you, she has always wanted that. And if you do decide to go back to America to her, I'll be happy for you because you can start a new life. If you, on the other hand, decide to stay here, trust me, I'm all for spoiling you rotten."

Celeste's watery chuckle echoed under the veranda. She snuggled under the blanket and took another deep calming breath.

"But if I were you, I'd give your mother a chance to prove how much she really loves you. You only had less than a week to get to know each other. Give it time and you'll see what's in your future, huh? Now... finish your tea and go back to sleep otherwise we'll never going to hear the end of it."

"I will let it pass this time." Came Alexandra's voice from inside the house. She peaked out from the glass door and reached for Celeste's outstretched hand. "Come on, sleepyhead, time to go back to sleep. You too, grumpy face." She concluded, motioning to her husband, offering him the other hand and in the end pulling them into a hug.

"I love you both... so much." Celeste whispered against her grandma's neck.

"We love you too, sweetie."