Time, Death & Scar Tissue...

40. Gifts

Dinner that evening was salads and sandwiches. Bridey had no desire to cook after getting things ready for the next day. Neither did Kathryn and Minerva. Minerva and Kathryn talked a little about Charlotte's party, but for the most part it was a quiet meal.

“Let me help you clear, Bridey.” Kathryn said.

“You don't have to-”

“I know.” She collected plates, silverware and glasses. “Go on into the sitting room, I won't be long.” Lucien and Minerva looked at each other, but got up and left. While it hadn't been discussed Kathryn was fairly certain the subdued mood had been because of the incident.

“Bridey, I'm sorry about earlier.” Kathryn said as soon as the door was closed.

“I'm the one should be apologizing to you.” Bridey sat down at the kitchen table and Kathryn sat with her. “I don't know what's got into me. I know you're a grown woman with a good head on your shoulders. He's just totally opposite of the kind of man I pictured you with.”

“He's not what I pictured either.” Kathryn smiled a little.

“He isn't?” She looked genuinely surprised.

“No, and there are times he makes me so frustrated I want to scream.” Both women laughed softly. “But when I met him it's like something clicked into place. I don't know how else to describe it.”

“That's how it happened for me and Mr. Kirk.” Bridey smiled sadly, she had married at nineteen was was widowed after only five years when Mr. Kirk was killed in a construction accident. Immediately after that she came to work for Minerva and her grandfather, Marcus. That's all she had ever told Kathryn about Mr. Kirk and Kathryn had never pressed for information. “I knew he was the one. My father wasn't happy about it either but we ran off together and got married. I wouldn't trade those years of happiness for anything less than Heaven itself. He could do some things that drove me to distraction though.” She laughed softly, even though there were tears in her eyes. Kathryn gripped her hand.

“I'm so sorry you lost him.”

“God don't mean us to yearn for what we've lost. He means us to be grateful for what we have.” She brushed at her eyes and smiled. “They're probably wondering what's taking you so long.”

“Probably, I just couldn't leave things like that between us.” Bridey got up and hugged Kathryn.

“You've got a good heart Kathryn Paige. Go on in,” She said after a few minutes. “Mrs. B.'s surprise is all set up too.”

“Thanks Bridey, for everything.” She said.

“You're welcome, now shoo.”

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“How long did Kathryn take piano lessons?” He was genuinely curious, but he also didn't wish to sit in silence.

“She didn't.” Minerva replied, looking a little surprised. He was surprised too.

“But she plays-”

“Yes, I know. Since she was very little she could imitate just about anything that struck her fancy. When Kathryn was three Octavia woke up at one in the morning to the sound of someone playing “Old MacDonald” on the piano. She went downstairs, not knowing who was going to be there and found Kathryn. Apparently she had a toy that played that song and the batteries had died, so she played it for herself.” Minerva laughed softly at the memory. “After she got a little older we all tried to get her to take formal lessons, but she was never interested, no matter what any of us said. The last thing her mother and I wanted was to make her hate it, so we stopped pushing.”

“So she doesn't read music?” He was even more impressed with her skill now.

“Not a note as far as I know. Didn't she tell you?” Minerva looked curious.

“Another one of those things I didn't ask.” He replied, smiling slightly.

“She probably wouldn't have mentioned it on her own; she thinks it's nothing special. It doesn't seem to occur to her that no one else in the family can do it.” Minerva smiled a little.

“Did anyone want coffee?” Kathryn stood in the door looking more relaxed than she had most of that evening. LaCroix found himself wondering what other talents she had that she thought were 'nothing special'.

“I don't think so,” Minerva said. “Unless you-” He shook his head. LaCroix knew he could still feign dining convincingly enough, but there was no need to put anyone to more trouble on his behalf. Kathryn sat down next to him.

“Time for presents?” She said, smiling a little.

“You've said that same thing the same way since you were five.” Minerva laughed.

“It's always worked.” She laughed softly. LaCroix had never found Kathryn to be materialistic, but he knew she loved to be surprised. She also loved to see others enjoying something she had given them. “Besides, this year you go first Grandmother.” She handed Minerva a small, flat box. Minerva opened it and pulled out a single sheet of cream colored paper. She looked confused but read the note out loud.

“'They say the windows to the soul are the eyes. Look in the dining room for your next surprise.' Just what are you playing at Kathryn?” There was a curious gleam in her eye and the smile on her lips mirrored Kathryn's.

“You're always saying how you love a good mystery; you'll just have to follow the clues.” Kathryn replied. LaCroix had to admit, he was surprised himself. He had come back to the apartment one night to find her putting wrapped packages in a large box and she described what she had gotten for most of the family. He thought there was something in there for Minerva as well, but it was possible he was mistaken. While he knew she was excited the list of sweaters, small pieces of jewelry and books hardly interested him. They followed Minerva into the dining room. The table was cleaned and a similar package had been placed on it.

“'A knowing smile graces a lady's full lips, off to the kitchen for the third of my quips.'” Minerva looked over her shoulder at him. “If I had known my granddaughter intended us to go on a scavenger hunt I wouldn't have sat at dinner so long.” LaCroix smiled and followed after her, his hand in the small of Kathryn's back. She was nearly as excited as Minerva was. Minerva tore the paper off the next package and tossed it aside.

“'The lady's brow, high and refined. To the hall to further broaden the image in your mind.'” Minerva walked quickly now, leaving the box and note behind. When she found the next one she tore the paper off with the hunger of a child.

“'Picture her gleaming hair and the image should be clenched. Your next clue is to be found on the piano bench.'” Kathryn was practically trembling and so was Minerva. They followed quickly after her.

“'Her nose so straight and her skin so pale, the sitting room is the end of your breadcrumb trail.'” Minerva looked at Kathryn. “I'm an old woman you know, I could have heart failure.” Kathryn laughed and followed her. LaCroix had to admit his curiosity was more than piqued, he was surprised to see a different draped painting with a note pinned to the red velvet covering.

“'Eyes, skin, hair, brow and lips all combine to create a face. Here's another ancestor to take her place.'” Minerva's voice trailed off and she turned to Kathryn. She looked shocked. “You found her?”

“Look and see.” Kathryn's hands were clasped under her chin, she was smiling broadly. Minerva carefully took the cloth off the painting. Again, a woman very similar to Kathryn and the others, but his portrait was the oldest of the group. Minerva held Kathryn tightly; there were tears in her eyes.

“What you must think of us.” Minerva said after a few minutes, wiping at her eyes and sitting down again. He and Kathryn followed suit. “This is Agrippina, Augusta Julia's mother. We always knew there was a portrait of her somewhere but no one in the family could find it. How DID you find it?”

“It was a complete accident really. You know how I have a hard time sleeping in June, so I went out for a ride and happened on an estate sale. I looked around a little and noticed this man staring at me. Finally I asked what was wrong and he said 'you look just like the woman in the painting'. I knew as soon as I saw it that it had to be her.” LaCroix filed away the bit of information about her difficulty sleeping in the month of June. He would have to ask her about it in a quieter moment.

“Were they distant relatives?” Minerva asked.

“Not that he or I could determine, no.” Kathryn answered.

“Well then how did they come to own it?” She was speaking to Kathryn but looking at the painting.

“He didn't really know. He remembered it always being in his grandparent's house, but no one knew where it came from before that. His grandmother had always told different stories every time someone asked her so he had no idea which, if any, of those were true. If someone asked his grandfather he would tell them to ask the grandmother.” Minerva shook her head and gripped Kathryn's hands across the coffee table. Both women had was could only be described as a glow.

“I'm surprised it left your family in the first place.” He said, studying the image, allowing the women to have their moment.

“That's one of those things that happen in a moment, but haunt the generations that follow.” Minerva started. “Agrippina died minutes after Augusta Julia was born. That wasn't so uncommon then, but her husband went mad with grief. He tore the house apart, destroying almost everything that had any connection to his wife. The midwife saved Augusta Julia or he would have probably killed her. The story was that Agrippina's personal maid saved the painting so that the child would have something of her mother's. Augusta Julia and the painting went to Agrippina's mother Messalina at first, but she passed away when Augusta Julia was eight. After that, she went to a string of relatives and drifted from one distant branch of the family to another until she managed to make a suitable match. In the process, she and the painting were separated. She searched for the painting, some say the rest of her life, but no one would admit to having it. After that, every so often one of us would get a lead, but it never worked out.”

“Amazing to think you found it by accident.” He said to Kathryn, wondering how accidental it really was.

“Just luck. That's how I found your present too, though yours was a more recent find. I hope you're still happy with my detective skills.” Kathryn laughed softly, but he could tell she was nervous about it.

“Tomorrow you'll have to tell me how you set all this up.” Minerva said. “Right now though, we should get on with this.” Minerva settled back and Kathryn set two large packages next to him on the sofa. This was something that he hadn't seen in the apartment.

“You haven't taken to etching messages on stones have you?” He asked, a little smile on his lips as he opened the smaller of the two packages.

“Not this year, but I’ll make sure to keep it in mind.” She said with a little smirk.

He pulled a similar note out of the box.

“'To light your way.'” He read out loud. Now he was curious. He withdrew a tree-trunk styled lamp base. There was clearly some age to it and he was fairly certain that he recognized it, but he decided to reserve his judgment until he opened what he presumed was the shade.

“That's incredible!” Minerva said as he took a stained glass shade out of the well cushioned box. It was indeed incredible. He recognized the leaves and grapes instantly as Tiffany. He had told her about a lamp he had that was similar when she noticed something seemed missing in the small sitting room off the music room at the house. It had been broken by one of the house maids and he hadn't found anything else that suited the spot. Each Tiffany piece was unique, his hadn't had the grape clusters, but they definitely added something to the overall effect. The blend of greens, purples and blues was truly beautiful. He kissed her softly. “What made you remember?” He asked.

“You never talk about objects, when you do it usually means they're very special to you.” He had several other questions, like where she had found it and what had possessed her to purchase a piece like that for him when she wouldn't fix her own piano.

“You are something truly unique Kathryn. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She smiled and gripped his hand for a moment before helping him repack the lamp.

“My turn.” Minerva said. She slid a large box over to Kathryn. He watched as she tore the paper from it with the delight of a child. Inside were six leather-bound journals and a collection of documents. Kathryn opened the first journal and scanned the first page.

“This is Great-Grandmother's research into the family history!” Kathryn said.

“Back to the thirteenth century, yes.” Minerva said.

“It's wonderful Grandmother.” He could see that she was near tears and he put his arm around her for a moment.

“She always wanted you to have them and I can't think of anyone who would appreciate them more.” Minerva said. She handed him a large envelope.

“I hope you don't mind, but that's really for both of you.” He took out tickets to a performance of Sleeping Beauty and a performance of Mozart's Magic Flute. “You've been so patient I thought you and Kathryn should have some time together, without a couple of old women hanging over your shoulders.”

“Thank you Minerva.” He was very glad to have some time alone with Kathryn. Much as he liked Minerva he had never been one to enjoy spending a great deal of time 'visiting'. Even though much of his time with Kathryn was spent apart from her in some way or another, the potential for closeness was always there. Here all that had been put on hold and it added to the stress of the situation.

“Thank you Grandmother.” Kathryn said.

He gave Minerva a scarf similar to the one he had given Kathryn, only this one was a deep blue. Minerva thanked him and then said she was tired.

“But I haven't-” Kathryn started.

“Kathryn, I was up early today and I need to be up early tomorrow to make sure everything is ready. I really need to get some rest.” She kissed Kathryn and thanked her again for the painting. She touched her cheek to his and took the scarf with her, leaving Kathryn shocked and a little confused. “Cocktails and presents start at seven, dinner is at eight, feel free to sleep in.” She said over her shoulder as she was leaving.