Chapter 4

El paused when she saw June's guest. Her mind automatically went to Mozzie. But, that was not possible. Mozzie was…she didn't know where Mozzie was. But, it couldn't be him. He had left the city a little over a year after Neal passed.

Peter stopped for a moment, too. He just stared. They had not seen the man's face, yet. But, his mind also went automatically to Mozzie.

June watched the two of them. She could tell who they thought it was by the looks on their faces. She smiled and motioned for them to come and take a seat.

"Come on in El, Peter." June replied, hugging them both. She then gave Neal a big hug. "Neal, I think Carlotta has something special for you in the kitchen."

Little Neal nodded. He started to the kitchen. "Thank you, Granny June."

Little Neal paused for just a second and looked at the bald man. He couldn't see what the big deal was. His parents had seen plenty of bald men. His math teacher was bald. He just shrugged it off and headed on to the kitchen. He knew Carlotta would have a nice cold glass of chocolate milk waiting for him.

Peter and El stopped in their tracks when Mozzie stood to face them. He smiled, then spoke. "Suit…Mrs. Suit."

El couldn't help but smile. She had missed her friend. She missed their wine parties. She missed having somebody to go to art galleries who was actually interested in the art. She hugged Mozzie tightly and then stepped back. "It is you, Mozzie! It's really you! After Neal passed, you just…you stuck around for a while and then you…you just left." She hugged him again, just to make sure that she wasn't imagining things. She wiped her eyes as the tears began to flow.

"Theodore Winters." Peter said, looking at Mozzie. The man had aged very little it seemed. There was a little less hair on his head. And what was left had grayed. But, all in all, there was little difference. "You're back?" He asked. He wanted to barrage the man with questions. But, this was not the time. He didn't want to spoil everyone's evening. Plus, he had seen Mozzie after Neal's death. Mozzie's grief had been real. Peter had not been too surprised the little bald man had left New York. What had surprised him was the fact that Mozzie had waited so long.

Mozzie nodded. "Yep, New York is home. Paris was nice. But, New York is home."

El sat down beside him. She loved France and Mozzie knew that. He proceeded to tell her about where he and Neal had lived. Not revealing Neal's name of course.

"We had a nice little villa that overlooked the ocean. Beautiful place. It as so…."Mozzie said.

Little Neal came back into the living room. He had finished his milk.

"Neal, do you remember us talking about Uncle Neal's friend, Mozzie?"

Little Neal nodded.

"Good, well this is Mozzie." El stated.

"Nice to meet you, Mozzie." Little Neal said extending his hand.

"Nice to see you, too." The conman stated after the two shook hands.

Mozzie looked at the boy. He was a handsome young man. He had his mother's blue eyes and he was tall for his age. He was going to be very tall, like his dad.

"Wow!" Mozzie said. "You've grown…a lot since the last time I saw you." But, of course, he had not seen Little Neal since he was a baby.

"What is Mozzie short for?" Little Neal asked.

"Mozart."

"Oh, you mean like the composer?" The boy asked.

"Yes, very good." Mozzie nodded. He loved his nickname. But, Little Neal didn't seem nearly as impressed. "Do you like classical music?"

The boy shook his head. "Nah, they must make us listen to it in music class."

El noted the look on Mozzie's face and decided to change t he subject. "Neal," She told her son. ", go and sit down. I think Granny has everything almost ready."

Little Neal nodded and obeyed, taking the place that June indicated.

"You're expecting someone else." Peter stated after they had all seated and he noticed that there was still a seat unoccupied.

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Neal had been upstairs listening to the conversation below him for about 10 minutes. He was close enough to the stairs to hear all the conversation but out of the line of sight. He now, somewhat, regretted that they had not come up with a grand plan for him to make an entrance. But, they had not and he would have to wing it. But, he had managed to time it perfectly. He had walked down the stairs just as very one was getting seated and served the wine. No one noticed him coming down the stairs. Now, he decided. He would just stand there.

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"I was. I was hoping…." June started. She had seen Neal standing at the bottom of the stairs just as El gasped.

El sat for just a second before she jumped up from the table. She met him halfway across the room, arms open wide. You're…You're here!" She touched his face as tears ran down her own. "It really is you!"

Neal nodded. He had tears in his eyes also. He had not expected this of himself.

El then slapped him on the chest. Not hard, but enough to get his attention. "I'm angry with you! Do you…do you have any idea what it's been like for us? For Peter to have to see…that. Then to have to identify your body. Then to have to come home and tell me you were…."

Neal was grinning, which really kind of ticked her off more.

"What? What is funny about any of this?" El asked.

"You knew it was possible…right? You haven't gone all this time thinking I was actually…?"

"We did…for about a year." Peter stated. He got up, went around the table and hugged Neal. "Then we got the wine, and I remembered the key. That was when I went to the locker."

The agent stopped talking for a moment, but continued to stare.

"What?"

"You've gotten old." Peter said, noticing the gray hair at his temples, and the shallow crow's feet around his eyes.

"Like fine wine, Agent Burke." Neal replied. "A decade is a long time."

"A lifetime." The agent said, thinking about his son. He then cleared his throat. "Anyway, Mozzie was brilliant. "He deserved and Emmy for his performance."

Mozzie shook his head. "It wasn't' a performance. I didn't know."

Both El, and Peter, even June stared. They were all shocked.

"Mozzie is great at the con. But, when it comes to me…. He couldn't be around you, El, or June and not tell you anything." Neal explained. "And I needed him to wait before he left New York City. If he had left in any less than say, a year's time, it would have cast suspicion. The fact that it took him an extra 6 months told me he was angry at me about not telling him. But, he got over it."

"So, you sent him a bottle of wine, too?" June asked.

"I wanted you all to know I was alive and well…and that I missed you." Neal said. "I thought the best way to do that would be to send you your favorite type of wine."

Neal looked at Peter and his expression changed. Peter, honestly, I thought that you would go to the locker and open it up immediately. I figured your curiosity would get the best of you. I expected that you would know right away." He shook his head. "I'm sorry that it didn't happen that way."

Peter shook his head. He was angry, and a little hurt at the time. But he had had 8 ½ years to deal with it. "I took all the things that the hospital staff gave me. I went through them. Then I put them all in a box, and put the box in a closet, Neal. El and I would take that box down, occasionally. But, it was painful." He paused. "I didn't even think about that key again, until we got the wine. Then I put it together. El and I discussed it. The possibility of you being alive. But, then well…we had a child to raise. Priorities had changed."

Neal looked the little boy and smiled. He couldn't help it. Little Neal was tall like his dad and he had his mother's blue eyes. "So, you're Neal too, huh?"

Little Neal nodded. Mom and Dad talk about you a lot. We have a picture of you and Dad, all dressed up. I'm your…." The boy looked up at El. He couldn't remember the word.

"Namesake." El told him.

"Namesake." Little Neal repeated.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Neal. But you know…that's a lot of 'Neals.'" The young conman observed. "How are we supposed to know which one of us people are talking, too?"

"Granny June calls me Little Neal." The boy offered.

"I like that, Little Neal." Neal said. Then he waited he knew the little body wanted to say something else.

Little Neal sort of whispered. "Is your middle name Aaron?"

The conman shook his head. "George."

Little Neal looked at the conman for a moment. He then looked at his mom. "I'll keep Aaron."

El and Peter just looked at one another and then burst into laughter.

"Our son is not a big fan of his middle name?" El explained.

"And he would believe me when I told him what yours was." Peter added.

"Why?" The younger conman asked.

"You don't' look like a George." Little Neal stated.

Neal looked at him. "I agree with you. That's why I never use it. Trust me, Aaron is much better."

The boy shook his head sadly. "Not when your initials are N.A.B, and your dad is a federal agent."

"Yeah! Wow!" Neal stated. "I'm sorry, Kid."

June called them all back to the table as Carlotta and the other members of the staff brought in the food. And everyone took their seats as the staff refilled wine and water glasses.

June stood to make the toast. "This wine sat on my shelf for 9 years. Just waiting for a special occasion. I wanted to take it down many times and drink a toast to my dear departed friend. But, something held me back. Part of it was…I thought, if…if the bottle was gone. It would be like part of him was gone. I couldn't let go. And I am so glad I didn't." June raised her glass. Welcome home, Neal."

They all made their toasts, Little Neal and his glass of milk included.

TBC