The greatest gift

*Zac*
It is a gold watch and chain.

“I noticed you didn‘t have one,” Callie says. “It seemed like the thing to pass down to your son.”

It is also a reminder, I think as I sit in a chair by the window and gaze out on the drive, that minutes tick forward and not back, and that I need to concentrate on the moments to come, not those that I can’t remember she must have spent every coin she possessed to purchase this for me.

“Now for my sons," my mother says, handing small packages to me and my brothers.

In the chair beside me, Callie looks on. My mother has given her a lovely lacy shawl, which she now wears draped over her shoulders. She still wears the pearl necklace, and I am half tempted to lead her back to bed, wearing only that.

“Open it,” she demands with impatience.

I do so and discover a miniature of my mother, a perfect likeness. Leo is skilled with the brush. I hand it to Callie so that she may see it.

“Oh, he did a wonderful job," she muses. She is holding Zane, who is gripping a wooden rattle that Draco has given him. He seems quite fascinated by it, blinking in wonder each time it makes a sound when he waves it around.

I understand my son’s wonder. I am still amazed to find myself with a family. I glance back out the window.

“What do you keep looking for?" she asks.

Grinning, I shake my head. “Oh, nothing."

“You‘re simply bored with opening presents?"

But I am not going to tell her. I’m waiting for another surprise to arrive.

“Leo, please fetch my gifts for my grandsons," the princess orders.

Instantly he leaves, and returns pushing two contraptions that look like boxes on wheels.

“What the deuce… ?” I murmur.

“They‘re perambulators,” my mother says. “So you can push the babies through the park. They have become quite popular of late.”

Djuna, Callie, and the other ladies go to inspect them.

“I‘ve been thinking of getting one," Djuna says.

And I wonder if Callie wanted one as well. I had no idea there was such a thing. I glance over at Morton, who seems as baffled as me. Draco, standing by the fireplace, appears bored. And I discover Lynn is watching me, although his gaze shifts away quickly enough.

I glance back out the window and see the approach of the car before I hear the engine and wheels bringing it nearer. Rising, I walk over to my wife and place my hand on her waist. Smiling brightly, she looks up at me with such joy in her eyes.

“Isn‘t this wonderful? I will be able to continue to take Zane outside, even as he gets heavier."

“Marvelous, but I have another surprise for you. Come along."

I pass Zane off to his grandmother, who eagerly welcomes the boy, then I guide Callie through the parlor, entryway, and front door, until we are standing at the top of the steps leading up to the house.

“Whatever is it?” she asks as the car comes to a halt.

I place my arm around her to shield her from the cold and to protect her from hurt if need be. A servant opens the coach door and a man steps out. Callie gasps.

“My father. Whatever is he doing here?"

“I invited him."

She jerks her head around to stare at me. “Why?”

“I thought you might like to see him. If he doesn’t behave, he will be back in the car and on his way home.”

*Calliope*
I am torn between joy and trepidation as I watch my father slowly walk toward us. When has he aged so much, and what does his presence signify? Has he forgiven me?

Breaking free of Zac’s hold, I rush down the steps, halting on the cobblestones near enough to my father that I can smell his familiar tobacco scent. I am aware of Zac suddenly standing behind me, and I realize that he is just as wary as me regarding how this encounter may go.

“Father."

He looks so stern and forbidding. He nods, suddenly not looking quite so bold. “I was told I would be welcomed.”

“You are,” I assure him.

“I see he did right by you.”

“He married me, yes.”

“You didn‘t invite me to the wedding”

“I didn’t think you would want to come… and it all happened very quickly.”

“As it should have.”

“Would you like to come inside, sir?” Zac asks, and there is an undercurrent in his voice that issues a warning along with the welcome

“No, I won’t be staying. I just wanted to see that you were well. And I wanted you to have this.” He removes a brown parcel from his pocket.

I open it to discover a silk handkerchief that smells of roses.

“It was your mother‘s. It‘s all I have of her.”

“Then you should keep it.”

“She would want you to have it.”

I crush it to my bosom “I will treasure it. Would you like to see Zane?”

“No, I must be going”

My heart nearly breaks. He turns away. Reaching out, I grab his arm, feeling Zac‘s hand fold around my shoulder to stop me or offer strength, I am not certain until I feel him squeeze gently. Strength, then, as though he knows what I want. "Please stay.”

He glances back. “You have always been far too compassionate for your own good. I treated you shabbily, daughter.”

“I disappointed you. I do not regret the decisions I made regarding Zane. It would be a shame, however, if he did not have an opportunity to know his grandfather.”

“Well, then,” he grumbles, “perhaps I could stay for a bit.”

I am not surprised that everyone welcomes my father. As I watch him holding Zane on his lap, I lean against Zac, fighting back the tears in my eyes.

“I never thought to see that,” I whisper. “It is a far greater gift than the pearls.”

I feel the press of his lips against my hair. “I have learned of late the value of reconciling with one’s family. It‘s not always easy, but it’s worth it to make the effort.”

“But you did nothing as egregious as bringing your father shame.”

“Oh, I think Morton would disagree.”

I peer up at him, and he gives me a wry grin. “It is a tale I will not tell. Suffice it to say, it is also one I would not mind forgetting.”

“I would not think you would want to forget anything else.”

“A pity we cannot pick and choose what we remember.”

“You have had no success recalling anything that you have forgotten?”

“No.”

“I thought being here might rekindle”

“No such luck. I spent an hour sipping tea on the terrace in the cold this morning. Nothing stirred. Morton found me there, invited me for a walk. We spoke of the past, all that happened when last I was here… but nothing.”

I hate it for him, but I am relieved for myself. Does it make me a horrid wife to wish that my husband never acquires what he so desperately desires?