71. That Which You Leave Behind

April, 2010

Celeste leaned forward, stretching in her seat. They'd just landed at LAX and would be deplaning in a matter of moments. She'd spent most of the transcontinental flight asleep, as she'd grabbed the first New York to L.A. flight available.

She'd planned the very long layover on purpose. She had a few items to wrap up for an actor client in Hollywood, as well as continuing to monitor and respond to the wave of publicity the Sixty Minutes broadcast the night before had generated.

To say that it was positive was an understatement. As she turned on her cell phone while the plane taxied she was amazed at the number of SMS texts and voice mails she had waiting for her. She feared her phone might explode with all the beeps and whistles it emitted.

They had certainly not put HB Management—the company she and Jim had formed—forward as representing Richard or Katie. She'd discussed it with her husband, and while it would make sense, for many reasons, they both worried that Katie, in particular, would resent the implications or think it condescending of them.

However, it was also clear that in the absence of any source to contact many had linked Richard to Martha, who was known to have been represented by HB for years. Some might even have figured out that the B in HB stood for Beckett and realized Jim's relationship to Katie. Regardless of the reasoning, they'd come to HB for information. Which, with Jim out of the country, meant her. Not that there was much that she'd reveal. The press would have their story, but first the kids needed to decide exactly what they wanted to feed them.

First class travelers deplane, well, first. So it was that she was off and walking rapidly to the passenger pick-up zone through the huge airport as soon as the jetway was in place.

HB maintained an office in L.A., of course. One of her assistants had been tapped to pick her up and take her there, where she'd work on the contract details for the actor first: it was nearly complete and would probably take less than an hour to wrap up.

Afterwards, she'd begin returning all these calls. Her first priority, though, was to let Jim know she'd landed. It would still be quite early in Papeete, but he'd asked her to call when she arrived.

His concern over her well-being was one of the myriad reasons why she loved him. Her first husband had never expressed any worry or consideration for her safety. His only interest in her had been that she cooked his favorite meals, kept the house clean and the kids well-behaved. Which meant out of his way.

He'd looked for the smallest violations of his rules, and there'd been hell to pay when he inevitably found her lacking. But Jim had taught her that not all men were interested in her as a mere housekeeper and bed warmer. He'd recognized her talent and encouraged her to spread her wings. HB was the result of their joint decision to stop living in the past and move forward together. Their success, as a company and as a couple, had exceeded all of her wildest dreams.

Her heart beat a little faster in anticipation of hearing his wonderful voice again. He'd been gone for days now, and she missed him. She couldn't wait to be in his arms again, especially to hold him and comfort him during this incredibly stressful time.

"Hi, darling," she chirped when he answered. "I'm in L.A., just walking to meet Henry and go to the office."

"How was your flight?"

"Fine. I slept most of it."

"Really? You almost never sleep on planes!"

"I was tired. The broadcast created a firestorm of interest, and it seems a lot of people decided HB was the logical place to turn to for more information. I finally had to put my phone on silent, just to get some sleep."

"Have you seen any reactions yet?"

"Not beyond the internet reporting before I went to bed, all of which was quite positive and incredulous. People were amazed at the story, as we expected. There's a huge curiosity factor in terms of seeing just how they survived, and the fact that there are children involved really pushed buttons for many."

"Yeah, I'll bet your flight to Papeete will be full of even more press."

"I'm sure it will be. I spoke to the AFP liaison in Paris after the broadcast. He told me that Laurent would be sending them video and stills of much of the island today. They said they'd call you once they had the raw footage and let you know what they planned to do next."

"Sounds good. I obviously haven't spoken to Afaitu yet today, but he's expecting a phone call from Richard this morning. They need to make a decision on how they're getting back and where they'll be going."

"I can't wait to get there, to see you again," she murmured, voice almost indistinct with suppressed emotion. She had to hold it together for the rest of the day. Falling apart now would help no one.

"Me too. I've missed you by my side. And I know Martha would love to have you here. She's trying to be brave and strong, but it's been such an emotional rollercoaster. She needs her best friend." His voice cracked slightly, revealing just how much he was longing for her.

"Less than 15 hours, and I'll be there. Will you be picking me up?" She knew he would never delegate that task to someone else, unless there was a real crisis. But the teasing in her voice helped keep the conversation light enough so they keep their emotions in check.

"Of course I will. Call me if anything big turns up in the meantime?"

"I will. I asked Henry to print off the remarks from the major news sites and he'll have a pile of newspapers for me to bring, too. See you tonight, honey."

Ringing off, she was thankful to see she was almost to the doors. She was eager to get started on everything, knowing that it would make the hours until her next flight fly by. The hours that yet separated her from her husband.

Given her determination, very little would have made her stop.

However, the sight of Katie's eyes peering at her from a bright display in a news shop halted her in her tracks.

As if in a trance she moved towards them, not even noticing the glares and harsh words others sent her way when she stumbled into their hurried paths.

It was Katie. Or, rather, her head, on the cover of what was touted as a special edition of People Magazine. A smaller picture of Richard was inset in the lower right corner.

The lead story headline screamed "Their Long Lost Love Story," but there were blurbs about the other stories inside as well. The one that made her heart drop read "Everything You Need to Know About Kate Beckett."

The one that made her bile rise read "Mother Murdered, Father a Drunk. She Never Knew that Justice had been Found."

Oh, how Jim was going to hate this.

She had a feeling Katie would be horrified.

"What's been the reaction in the States?" Martha asked. She and Jim were waiting at Afaitu's favorite diner. They were due to have breakfast with the young man and plan their day.

"So far, great. Celeste said there was a horde of calls after the program aired. I looked at a couple of the big news sites, like CNN, before I walked over here. Most are just reporting the bare story based off what aired last night. It'll be interesting to see how many reporters fly in with Celeste tonight."

"Oh, there's already enough here. It's going to be so stressful on Richard and Katie, having to deal with all of this!"

"Yes, but it's better than the alternative."

They sipped their coffee, waiting in companionable silence as they each reflected on what could have been. The unrelenting press attention was a worthwhile price to pay.

At least for now.

"The thing that makes me sick to my stomach with worry isn't when they first get back. I really, really wonder if they'll be left alone once they're here. Allowed to re-adjust, to help the children's transition," Martha fretted, tearing her napkin into shreds without noticing.

"I've been thinking about that very thing," Jim drawled. Martha's quirked eyebrow showed she was waiting for him to continue.

"Well, one of the problems that celebrity parents face is jockeying for photos of the kids, especially newborns, who've obviously never been seen before. To get around the demand, some of the ones with the highest appeal have sold their photos in exclusive deals."

"Oh, like Brangelina. I remember they sold pictures of the twins to…I think it was People?"

"Exactly. It was a joint deal with People and Hello! magazines for a total of fifteen million dollars. Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony sold the photos of their twins that same year, also to People, for six million."

"But the kids have already been seen, in the interview on Sixty Minutes."

"True, but it was fairly brief, and before they've gotten a real haircut. I know that Richard and Katie tried to look as good as they could, but there's only so much you can do on an island without any help. So, I think there will be a market for photos, and if the kids want to make an exclusive deal, it might help assuage the public's curiosity and decrease interest later."

"Well, I think that's definitely something to consider. Oh, Jim, I'm so glad that you're here. I'll make sure they know just how much work you've done on their behalf."

"It's not work when it involves Katie, Martha."

She nodded. They both knew that Katie's reaction to Jim's presence was still a huge unknown. Martha just hoped that the younger Beckett would give her dad a chance.

"What are you thinking about?" Rick asked, reaching out to cradle his wife's cheek as she stood staring towards the orchard, not paying attention to anything else.

"Hmm?" she startled, "oh, nothing."

"It's not nothing, Kate. Tell me."

She shrugged, self-conscious. He gave her his most earnest puppy dog eyes; they never failed.

Her clear laugh demonstrated it wasn't anything to do with him, but he wanted her to share her troubles with him. They were a team.

"This might sound stupid," she started.

"Nothing you say is stupid, Kate. Nothing. Talk to me."

"Well, we've been making this list of things to take," she pointed to the paper in his hand. "And I know that material things aren't important at all; I only need the kids and you, nothing else. But, I can't help but think that some of the best memories that I'll take from here involve things that we simply can't take with us."

"Like what?"

"Well, for starters, the house. The structures we built with our own two hands. Think about all the blood, sweat and tears that were left on the supports or in the thatch as they were built. Not to mention all the memories since then. Our babies were born here; they've never known another home. But it has to be left behind."

"You're right; they do mean a lot to us," Rick replied. The germ of an idea sprouted as he thought about how he could make leaving the island behind a little easier for her.

It was ironic, the situation they faced now. Ten years ago she had been the one desperate for rescue, while he had been the one pushing for the construction of better shelters, more permanent structures.

Now, faced with their imminent departure, she was the one balking.

Of course, he had an advantage: he'd already been gone for some time. He knew—to a degree—what awaited them at the end of this next journey. To her, it was a huge unknown, and he could tell that it scared her.

Truthfully, it scared him too. He had no idea how the children would react to such a radically different lifestyle. How Kate would react to her father; to his mother. How the world would treat them. He didn't even know how long they'd be in French Polynesia.

Yet, these were all situations that they would soon face. There was no diving back down the hole, nor did he really think Kate wished they'd not been found.

He just hoped she didn't change her mind a few weeks from now when their new reality settled into place.

"Are there any other places here that you wish we could bring with us?"

"The cave," she said immediately. "Not because we spent much time there, because we didn't. Not really. But it was a refuge when those bad storms erupted that year that Alex was 3 and Patrick was a baby. The outer beaches, where we spent our little vacations. I have some fond memories of watching you flexing those sexy muscles as you hauled in a catch. The canoe. I mean you built it by hand. And it meant so much for us, in terms of food gathering and being able to take advantage of the ocean."

"Those are all good answers, Kate. But they aren't the thing you're really gonna miss, are they?"

She looked at him with liquid eyes, full of unshed tears and just shook her head softly. He took her in her arms, rubbing circles in her back to soothe her.

"Is it the tree?" he asked as he held her tight. Feeling her slight nod, he knew he'd hit on the right reason. Kate had spent a lot of time with the tree he'd planted to mark Johanna Beckett's memory—it had grown into a gorgeous specimen. Whenever Kate needed some alone time, that's where she headed.

"Shhh, it's ok. It's ok. You know, it has to stay here. But that just means a part of her stays here, just as a big part of us remains behind too. It's like this place will be a living memorial to our family. And that tree—your mother's tree that I planted just before Alex was born—well, it will go on just like we will. I imagine we'll come back to visit, and you'll see that she's with us wherever we go. Not just here. Not just in New York. But wherever you are; where her grandchildren are. That's where she lives."

He held her for a while, both of them just breathing the other in. They might have stood there for hours for all he cared. Just holding her felt so right.

It was the crash that interrupted them.

Jumping at the tremendous noise, Rick nearly pulled a muscle as he wrenched his back in midair, trying to see what was attacking him from behind.

It was an attack, all right. Of the Sarah kind. She'd managed to climb out of the pen when her parents were busy with each other and had climbed to the table—site of the infamous egg incident—where she was now busy flinging the plates that Rick had tried to pack.

"No, Sarah, no, no!" he cried, jumping out of the way as another plate was launched towards him. The girl had quite an arm.

Kate was no help; she was apparently paralyzed by hysterically laughing. She'd collapsed in her chair by the time he got Sarah back into the playpen and had cleaned up the shards from the plate that she'd managed to break by tossing it right into a pole.

He stood glaring at his daughter for a minute, who had once again adopted a most angelic look, before he glanced at his wife, who was struggling to rein in her mirth.

Giving her a wry look, he started to grin as well. "Did you see that arm? She needs to play softball when she's older!"

"My dad will love that. He's a big baseball fan," she replied, still giggling. Then, as she realized what she'd said, her laughter trailed off.

Rick watched her face, as looks of anxiety and anger flittered across her mien.

"Kate?" he asked hesitantly. He knelt beside her chair, taking her cold hands into his.

"Tell me about him," she rasped. "Tell me about my father."

"I didn't meet him, you know. I'd already boarded Ari'i's ship to rescue you when he arrived. I can only tell you what Afaitu has told me, and my mother. But she's been friends with him for a long time, so Afaitu's observations are less biased."

"Why didn't he come with Martha? Why wasn't he here? Didn't he want to be here?"

"Oh, sweetie, I think he did. I think Afaitu worried about keeping him away. But we couldn't risk it until we'd found you, or were close. Grollet's people were watching everything. If Jim Beckett suddenly showed up in Tahiti, I was convinced that Grollet would know for sure at that point that you were alive. Every word that I said, every action that I made at that time was to persuade him that you'd died when the Iriata sank. Jim's premature arrival would have destroyed that illusion. So, he wasn't here because we wouldn't let him be. That's the simple truth."

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she considered his answer. "But he's here now?"

"Yes. He's helping Afaitu figure out a bunch of stuff. Afaitu is young, and not familiar with how things are done in the States. He's gone way, way above and beyond what anyone would have reasonably expected of him. But, I think he leans on Jim for support. Jim's been a lawyer longer than Afaitu's been alive, or close to it. He told me he felt that Jim had been a real rock for him."

"And you said Afaitu would never have spoken to your mother without Dad's help?"

"No. No, he wouldn't have. Mother was well protected, and Afaitu was getting desperate to talk to her. Without Jim, I don't think it would have happened."

He then went on to explain, in as much detail as he knew, all that Afaitu had gone through nearly 2 months ago. How Martha hadn't wanted to listen. How shocked Afaitu had been to learn that Martha's manager was in fact the father of Rick's wife, also missing for those terrible years.

She was quiet, though not withdrawn, when he finished speaking. Her hands still felt cold, and a few more tears had tracked down her cheeks, but she was taking it all in all more calmly than he'd expected.

She peered at his face, eyes as open and vulnerable as he'd ever seen when they (rarely) discussed her father. Given how distressing she found the topic, they'd just not spoken of him during their years together. It was easy to avoid sensitive issues when they weren't a part of your present life.

"How long did you say he's been sober now?"

"Afaitu said my mother got him to go into rehab not long after we disappeared. So it's been years."

"And he's not a lawyer now?"

"My understanding is that he's maintained his bar registration, but his work now involves management. My mother is a client, as you know, and it sounds like it's a pretty successful company. I think he does find his law degree to be pretty helpful in his current line of work."

She looked down again, and he knew what she was thinking. His heart ached for her. It didn't seem fair that she had to face the new reality of her father's life while at the same time trying to reclaim her own, but there was no way around it. Her father was intimately involved with their affairs; it was clear that he was an invaluable member of the team. This was his daughter and his grandchildren, after all. It was hard to imagine finding a non-relative who'd work as hard as Jim Beckett had on their behalf.

"You—you—you said he's r-r-r-remarried?"

He lifted her hands to her mouth and kissed them softly. She still wouldn't look up at him, but he felt her twitch in reaction to his soothing touch.

"That's what I'm told, love. To one of my mother's best friends."

"H-h-how long?"

"I'm not sure, Kate. It didn't come up."

"What—what's her name?"

"Celeste."

"Celeste? Celeste Beckett?"

"Uh, I—you know, I'm not sure of that either. I kinda think she kept her last name, but I don't know for a fact."

"Is she here, too?"

"Not that I know of, but we weren't really focused on where your stepmother was or what she was doing."

He felt her flinch hard at the term 'stepmother' and cursed his careless tongue.

"She's not my stepmother. She's my father's wife."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that there was a relationship between you two. Obviously, there isn't. Not yet. But, Kate, you're going to meet her. She's a big part of my mother's life, and she shares your father's life. We can't ignore her. And you don't know, maybe you'll find that you even like her."

She yanked her hands away. Breathing hard, she spit, "She's not my mother. But she's sleeping with my father. How am I ever going to accept her, let alone like her? It's not possible."

Rick was quiet for a few minutes, thinking furiously about what to say next. His awkward phrasings had made this conversation even harder than it might have been, though Kate's grim memories of her time with her father after her mother's death would have been difficult to overcome even with a perfectly glib tongue.

With some trepidation, he decided to try and get her to think about what it must have been like for her father to find that he could love again. He was nervous enough that he almost left it alone, thinking that they'd keep working at this particular wound a day at a time. Yet, he realized how deep seated the hurt went. It needed to be drained, and perhaps an attack from a different angle would be helpful.

"Do you remember what you told me, the moment that I handed Alex to you?"

She looked at him sharply, wondering why he'd turned the conversation away from what they'd been discussing. Seeing his concern and sincerity, she nodded.

"You said that you couldn't imagine what love had meant before you saw him. That you knew what it meant to love me: we complement each other, make our two halves a whole, together. But the first sight of Alex…well, that was a love that just struck like a bolt of lightning out of the blue. We both knew that we'd do anything for him."

Kate gave a raspy chuckle. "He was such a mess, since you were busy with the afterbirth. He just looked at me, hardly cried at all. It was like he just knew I was his mom and that I'd take care of him."

"And those first nights were awful. We didn't know what we were doing, but he made it and we learned. What his cries meant, what he needed us to do for him. He taught us what the love for a child meant. He's brought us nothing but joy."

Kate nodded, not sure what he was getting at. But, he was right. Alex was love personified. Their love together had made him. Made an incredible human being.

"Then we decided to have another. Remember discussing it? How you didn't want Alex to grow up as an only child. How he was such an easy baby, that we should do it again. So, I stopped doing the papaya thing and suddenly you were pregnant again. And, thank God, it was easy. Everything went fine. Even the delivery was easier, since we both knew what to expect that time around. It seemed like no time at all and I was handing you Patrick. Another beautiful baby boy."

"He was so handsome. Alex loved him."

"And so did you, and I."

A sharp look speared him in place. "Of course we did. He's our child."

"Did you love Alex any less? You loved him first, but when Patrick came he took away some of your love?"

"What? No! I loved them both."

"How?"

She looked at him as if he'd grown two heads. "What are you getting at?"

"Just humor me, Kate. How did you love them both?"

"I just—I just did."

"Maybe when Patrick came, and later Sarah, your heart just stretched out so you could love all your babies the same."

"I suppose that's one way of putting it."

"So, don't you think it's possible that Jim's heart grew too? Once he found Celeste."

"It's not the same thing, Rick. They're my children. You're my husband; my soulmate. I could never marry again."

"And I love you, too. To the depths of my soul as well. But bad things happen, Kate. What if I'd never been seen again after drifting off in that boat? It nearly happened. Or what if Grollet had killed me outright? Do you really think that I'd want you to stop living and just pine for me? Start drinking to forget like your father did? I would want you to be happy, to go on living. To raise our kids to be great citizens of the world."

"I don't know if I could do it. If you were gone."

"You lived without knowing if I were alive or dead for months. Did you never laugh, never smile?"

"I did. You know I did. At things the kids did or said. But I didn't know for sure. I was convinced you were still there. I could feel you in my heart."

"But you'll always feel me there, as long as you live. I gave part of my heart to you to carry, to feel my love for you. And you did the same for me. But neither of us will live forever. All of us are fated to die, someday. And if my day is before yours, I want you to be happy. To live and laugh and remember us together. To see me in my children. But don't be afraid to let someone else love you too. Love doesn't take away from your life, it adds to it. And I think that's what Celeste has done for Jim. That doesn't take away from your mother; it just adds to your father."

A strangled sob escaped her. She lifted her arms towards him and he pulled her into his lap as he sat on the ground. "I didn't mean to upset you so much, Kate. It seems like all I've done since I've been back is make you cry."

She made a noise that sounded like a half whimper and a half laugh. "It's been emotional, there's no denying that. I know what you're saying is how I ought to feel, but actually feeling it is another matter. I promise I'll think about it some more. Try to accept her."

"The good thing is that we've got days and days before you'll see him. Lots of time to think. And remember, no matter what, I'm always there for you."

"I know. I love you, so much. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. You still haven't met my mother. I'm fully expecting that you'll want a divorce once you take one look at your mother in law."

Her resultant laughter was music to his ears.