Thanks so much for the reviews and alerts last chapter. They were appreciated. Thanks again for your help with my question. I decided to make Steve a year older than Alex, making him sixteen going on seventeen when his mother died. It helps with him playing varsity football and only gives him a year and a few months before he graduates.
Anyway, please enjoy this chapter, I hope to hear from you again, and I own nothing.
See ya...
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Danny…
I knew, legally, that Matilda couldn't take Grace from me at the funeral. I was her biological father, I did have rights, and Rachel's mother had to see that. But I wasn't completely sure if she had legal grounds to take her some other day. If she were to take me to court, I wasn't sure how far she could push until a judge agreed with her or told her to mind her own damn business. Regardless, if she did take me to court it would probably be months of legal fees, court dates, and a big ole' pile of stress that I wasn't subjecting Grace to.
So, the following day I decided to corner Matilda at Rachel's. She and Stan's parents had planned to go through their stuff, and I had brought Grace so we could go through her stuff. Just for the essentials while I rented storage space for the rest. Steve, Kono, and Chin had offered to go with me, but I turned their offers down. After yesterday, after Steve had pushed and pushed until Matilda agreed to his terms-Kono and Chin lurking in the background-I don't think she would appreciate their company.
I had spent a few moments helping Grace pack before leaving her alone to find Matilda. I found her sitting in Rachel's closet, a box sitting on her lap, flipping through pictures. I watched her for a second, wondering what she was looking at, before clearing my throat. She looked up, subtly running a hand across her eyes, and said, "Been wondering when you'd find me. Tell your ape partner I haven't reneged on his terms."
"What were you looking at?" I asked curiously choosing to ignore her jib at Steve. Ape was probably the nicest thing he has been called. I mean, I've called him worse names.
"Photos, Daniel," she responded and reluctantly pushed the box toward me. I crouched down, sifting through the photos. They were all of Rachel and me, some I haven't seen since we broke up.
"She kept these?" I questioned removing the pictures to find a few other trinkets from our six year relationship. It wasn't until I found her engagement ring, the one I scrimped and saved to get, sitting at the bottom that I had to stop…
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2001…
She had pointed out which ring she liked when we first stopped into the jewelry store. Two days later I made the first payment. Without her knowing, I steadily paid off the ring. Six and a half months it took until the damn thing was mine. I think the store clerk actually was glad to be rid of me. We didn't exactly see eye-to-eye half the time.
I brought the ring home, trying to figure out where to hide it. I didn't exactly have a plan as to how I was going to pop the question. I didn't even know if Rachel wanted to marry me. We'd been arguing a lot lately, over stupid crap. My oldest sister, Delia, had told me Rachel and I had left the honeymoon period and were officially in a relationship, now. Even though I had told her to shut up, I knew she was right.
I ended up leaving the ring in my pocket. It was the only place I could think of that I could keep an eye on it. Afterwards, I went to work.
When I returned home later that night I found her sitting at the kitchen table, her cell phone sitting in front of her. She had been waiting for me, no doubt about that. I wasn't sure what I had done, but I could already feel a fight brewing in the air. So, I hung my gun up in the closet, kicked my shoes off, and headed toward the fridge. A beer sounded good about now.
I sat at the table, fixed her with a neutral gaze, and said, "What's wrong?"
"Why were you down town this morning?" she asked slowly.
"Who told you I was…?"
"My friend Lauren. She spotted you getting into your car. You told me you were going to work early today." She took a breath, met my eyes, and said, "Why would you lie to me? Are you seeing somebody else?"
"What are you…? I trailed off closing my eyes, trying to find a shred of patience. I opened them and said in a forced calm voice, "No, Rach, I'm not seeing somebody else."
"Then why were you down town?" she asked her voice rising slightly. "Why did you lie and tell me you had to go in early? What's going on?"
"I hate that you jump to conclusions like that," I snapped getting to my feet. "Just because Lauren suggests I'm cheating doesn't mean I am. Just because her boyfriend cheated on her doesn't mean every single guy is cheating."
"She's just looking…"
"She's paranoid," I shouted throwing my hands out. "She's a paranoid, miserable shrew who just wants somebody else to be miserable with her! And you, being her friend, subconsciously want to help!" I took a breath, let it out, and quietly said, "You wanna know what I was doing?"
"Yes," she replied equally as quiet.
I nodded once, dug in my pocket, and slammed the ring box on the table. "That was what I was doing." She cautiously picked the box up, flipping it open. "Danny, this is a…"
"I know what it is," I replied slowly, sitting at the table again.
"How did you…?"
"Doesn't matter," I responded sliding from my chair onto one knee. "All that matters is I want to spend the rest of my life with you…"
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Present Day…
If only I knew how that was going to end up, I probably wouldn't have proposed. In retrospect, I probably should have taken our argument as a sign, too. I mean, how many people actually get engaged seventeen seconds after arguing over possibly cheating? Not that many.
I sat heavily onto the ground, running a hand down my face. "I…I…" I cleared my throat, met Matilda's eyes, and said, "Where did you find this?"
"In the back," she replied removing the photos again. "She loved you, you know. I begged and pleaded her not to marry you, but she had her mind set against doing what I wanted." She smiled weakly, shaking her head. "And when you broke up…" she trailed off, glancing down at a picture of Rachel covering her face and me trying to pry her hand away. "Look, Daniel," she met my eyes again, "I apologize for yesterday."
I was taken aback for a second. Never, in the years I've know Matilda Parker, and the week she came to Jersey, had she ever apologized to me. I actually thought I was hearing things until she continued talking, "I just wanted something close to Rachel. And Gracie… She just looks so much like my Rachel when she was younger. And I just couldn't picture her living in…" she took a breath, breaking eye contact again. "Tell your friend he had a good idea, letting you two live with him until you find a better place."
"So, you aren't taking her from me?" I asked not sure whether I should be angry or relieved. I mean, she made a scene yesterday because she wanted something close to her daughter. Well, lady, why don't you just take a freaking sweater or something? Because my kid is not a frigging trinket you can put on a shelf you creepy old woman.
"I know what you're thinking, Daniel. And yes, I was nightmare yesterday." you got that right, lady. "But, before you go off on me. Rachel was my daughter." And of course her eyes had to fill with tears. I can't yell at a crying lady, even if every moral fiber screamed at me to.
So, I took a breath and said, "You were grieving, and you acted like a child. I'm sure you could have handled it better if you thought…"
"Is there a point in there somewhere, Daniel?" she asked giving me a sharp look.
"We aren't ever going to be friends. And I have no idea if you're going to change your mind when you get back to England. But I can't hate you for what you did. If I was in your shoes, and Grace had been the one to…" I trailed off, not able to continue, my eyes stinging. "I don't know what I'd do."
She put the photos back into the box, picked up the lid, and put it back on the top. She picked the box up and handed it to me. "You keep this. It's yours now, and I bet Grace would appreciate it sometime down the line." I tucked the box under my arm, getting to my feet. I offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet.
"So, what are you going to do?" I asked following her out of the room.
"Head back to England, maybe give some of Rachel's clothes to charity. Hire some gardener to take care of her grave." She shrugged, glancing at her hands. We stopped outside of Grace's room, glancing inside to see Stan's mother hugging Grace. "I guess I'll mostly just pick up the pieces, talk to her sister more." I had never met Rachel's sister, only ever saw a couple pictures of her, but knew she had moved to France out of high school and became an artist. If Rachel marrying me was disappointing to Matilda, her older daughter becoming a painter had to be blasphemy. Kinda makes me glad my family was supportive.
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Grace and I left a half an hour later. We headed back to my apartment, for probably the last time, to pick up some of my stuff. Tomorrow Steve, Chin, Kono, and I were moving the bigger stuff to storage then I had to start looking for a bigger place. I took a week of personal time off, just to be with Grace, and had been offered more but I couldn't take it. Too much free time was too much thinking time. And a part of me just didn't want to think.
As glad as I was that Matilda was backing off, a part of me wishing I wouldn't get arrested for shooting the broad, I still had a lot of crap on my mind. Like the box that sat in my trunk. I had always assumed Rachel had disposed of everything to do with our relationship. I had figured she had wanted her life to revolve around Stan, and I would just be the father to her child. Turns out, she had a Danny box. Kinda makes me wish I hadn't left all her stuff back in Jersey with my mother. But I didn't want the reminders. I didn't want the memories plaguing me anymore than they already did… I regret that decision now.
"Are you okay?" Grace asked me quietly following me to the car.
"Yeah, monkey, I'm fine," I replied opening the Camaro's trunk to put our bags inside. When I slammed the trunk I took one last look at the place I called home for a year then said, "Let's go see if Uncle Steve has anything edible to eat in his house." Gracie nodded and headed toward the passenger side. The way she walked, the way her hair swished back and forth as she moved, painfully reminded me of her mother. There was no doubt she was Rachel's daughter…
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2001…
"Did you ever give any thought to having children?" she asked out of the blue. I gave a cautious look, putting the last of the dishes away.
"Why? Have you?" I asked humoring her. She had that habit of asking the strangest things at the strangest times.
"Not really. I mean, I thought we'd talk about it once we were married. We just have been too busy to actually talk about it." And we had. Between getting back from our honeymoon (paid for by her uncle Paul) in Rome, opening the wedding presents we hadn't exactly gotten to, Rachel returning emails and phone calls from her co-workers and boss, and me trying to keep up with the paperwork that piled up when we were gone we hadn't exactly taken the time to talk about us let alone children.
"Okay, what's going on?" I asked curiously following her into the living room.
"What? Nothing," she replied quickly. Too quickly. Something was definitely up.
"Rach, come on. Tell me." I hated when she got vague. It usually followed bad news. Like, we were invited to another one of Lauren's diner parties. Except this time she was talking about kids. Holy crap, did Lauren finally get knocked up by one of her many boyfriends. Heaven forbid that happened. The woman probably would leave the poor baby on the hood of her car, how absentminded she was.
"I went to the doctor today," she said making images of Lauren and a baby go away. New images started to fill my head, ones I wasn't sure I wanted to think about.
"And?" I questioned carefully. A part of me hoping it wasn't what I thought it was.
"Well, um, you're going to be a daddy," she replied shrugging…
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Present Day...
Steve…
Okay, I had no idea what kids ate. I mean, they had to eat, right? Everybody has to eat to survive. But I was pretty sure frozen snickers and an empty milk carton wasn't sustenance enough. I knew Danny ate a bunch of unhealthy junk, every time we had lunch I was expecting him to keel over from the amount of grease he allowed into his body. But what did Grace eat? Was she like Danny, willing to eat anything as long as it looked appetizing? Or was she different?
All this was going through my head as I stood in the snack aisle at the grocery store. I was supposed to be back home a half hour ago, but the prospect of getting Oreos over Chips Ahoy and having Danny have a problem with it was too great. I didn't even know if Danny liked Oreos or Chips Ahoy. I knew he liked Snickers-he always snags one from my freezer every time he comes over to my house-and I had put two packages of those in the cart.
My phone buzzed from my pocket, making the lady next to me jump. I smirked, taking it from my pocket. Danny's finger flashed back at me, he had flipped me the bird when I tried to take his picture.
"Oreos or Chips Ahoy," I answered going to the source.
"Neither: Famous Amos," he replied managing to sound irritated even discussing his favorite topic: Food. "Where the hell are you?"
"Grocery shopping," I answered snagging a box of Famous Amos and throwing them in the cart. I also grabbed a package of Oreos, after staring at them for fifteen minutes they actually sounded pretty damn good. "Why?"
"Because Grace and I are locked out, McGarrett. And it's raining out," he replied the sounds of rain drops could be heard pinging off the hood of his car.
"There's a spare key hidden in a fake rock inside the tree in my front yard," I answered pushing my cart toward the checkout line. "Keep it," I added as an afterthought.
"You hide your key in a tree?" he asked over the sound of rain sounding slightly amused.
"You hide yours above the door," I retorted slowly. "My house will take a few moments longer to get broken into than yours."
"Yeah, well I just broke into yours," Danny said and I could hear the door swinging open. "Now we're even."
"It's not even if I'm aware you're doing it," I replied piling my stuff onto the conveyer belt. The cashier snapped her gum as she rung up everything that moved toward her.
"Maybe I'll move some stuff around, then," he suggested and I could almost see him shrug.
"You do that," I said handing some money over to the cashier. "So, what did Rachel's mother have to say?"
"I'll tell you when I see you," Danny responded his tone not giving anything away. I guess I was left to speculate until I got home.
"Fine." I collected my bags, pushing the cart toward the exit and into the down pouring rain. "Jeez, you didn't tell me it was pouring buckets."
"It's pouring buckets," Danny said a small smile in his voice.
"Funny, Williams. See ya in a few." I hung up, stashed my phone in my pocket, and practically sprinted toward my truck. I quickly loaded everything into the back seat, put the cart away, and hopped up into the cab.
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"Really? Cocoa Puffs? You couldn't spring for some Lucky Charms?" Danny said looking down at Sonny and his bug eyes.
"Lucky Charms condones stealing," I said snatching the box from him and putting them into the cabinet.
"And Cocoa Puffs condones crack," Danny retorted putting the carton of milk and jug of orange juice in the fridge.
"Crack?" I furrowed my eyebrows, not sure where he was going with this.
"Have you seen how Sonny acts when he gets a hold of some cocoa puffs? 'I'm cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.' It loosely translates to 'I'm insane like a crack addict. Give me more.'" Sometimes the stuff Danny comes up with just can't be commented on. This was one of those times.
"So," I started after a moment long silence. "What did she say?" I put a box of Chewy Granola bars away. They looked good, and I'm sure Grace would like them. And I promised myself I wouldn't eat them all.
Danny was quiet for a second, stashing some stuff in my freezer, then he took a breath and said, "She apologized for yesterday and said she was backing off." He folded up one of the empty bags, hanging it on my pantry door.
"What? I thought she was all ready to take you to court," I said wondering if Matilda had an end game planned. Maybe she was hoping Danny would let his guard down before she slapped him with a subpoena.
"She…" he rolled his eyes, grabbing another handful of stuff to put away, "She said she wanted something close to Rachel. And what's closer than Rachel's daughter, right?" he turned his back on me, putting the stuff away.
"Just curious? Did she ever consider taking a sweater or something?" I asked folding up another bag and sticking it with the others.
"That's what I thought, too," he said clearing out the last bag. He handed it to me to fold up and said, "But I guess I kinda, sorta, see where she was coming from."
"Yeah, if you're demented," I replied heading into the living room.
"Steve, it's her daughter's daughter. She's just looking out for her," Danny said sitting in my recliner while I took the couch. "If the tables were turned, and I was dealing with Grace's kids…" he trailed off, running a hand across his neck. "I'd probably act the same way."
"No, you wouldn't try to take her kids from her husband," I pointed out slowly.
"Please, let's not talk about her getting married," he said shaking his head. "She's eight. Marriage is years from now, hopefully never." I smiled, almost seeing where his head went. If I had a daughter I really wouldn't want to think about her dating, let alone getting married.
"How did your dad handle your mother's parents?" he asked giving me a curious look.
"Well, my father decided to send Mary to them while he shipped me to my uncle's."
"What?" he was taken aback.
"He sent me and Mary away," I said glancing down at my hands. "At the time I was pissed, but now that I think about it I see why he did it. He was protecting us from our mother's killer…"
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1992…
Mom was buried a week after she died. At the time I wasn't sure why it took so long, usually funerals occurred a few days after somebody died. But every time I asked Dad about it he told me not to worry about it. To let it go. I, however, couldn't let it go. She was my mother, and I hated the thought of her lying on a metal slab in a coroner's office. I wanted answers.
The day Mom was buried, not even two hours after she was in the ground, Dad sat Mary and me down. He was quiet for a second, looking anywhere but at us. He then took a breath, met our eyes, and said, "You guys know I love you, right?"
Okay, something was up. I had never heard those words come out of his mouth. I made to ask him about it, but he held up his hand and said, "Let me finish, kiddo." I closed my mouth, waiting for him to continue. "Grandma and Grandpa want you two to go live with them."
"What?" Mary and I said together.
"And I agreed with them," Dad said over our shouts.
"Dad, come on," I said quickly. "Grandma and Grandpa can't possibly think we'd want…"
"Mary's going to their house. You're going to Uncle Marty's." Uncle Marty, Dad's little brother, had taken after Grandpa and was a retired SEAL. I hadn't seen him since I was six, could barely remember what he looked like, but knew he lived in a small town in Wisconsin. I had never been to Wisconsin, and would have liked to never go to Wisconsin. It snowed in Wisconsin.
"Why?" I protested jumping up, wanting answers. My mother had been dead a week, our lives had been different for a week. Why was Dad acting like this?
"Don't worry about it, Steve," my dad snapped getting to his feet. "The decisions have been made. You two are leaving tomorrow. I suggest you get packed now." And he left Mary and I in confusion, both wanting to know what happened, but not having a clue…