153. A little respect

Remy’s is quiet, for a change. It doesn’t stop Castle steering them to the most remote booth in the least occupied (read: empty, thinks Beckett) corner, somewhat peremptorily summoning a server, ordering for both of them without any reference to her at all, which he never does, with considerable despatch only leavened by politeness and a thousand watt smile which is entirely put on. It works on the perky server, though. She bounces perkily off, quite happy.

Beckett regards Castle extremely suspiciously. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I went to see Burke this morning.”

Beckett’s jaw hits the table. “You what now? Burke? You?” She winces. “What’s Dad done now?”

“Not your dad. My mother.”

“Huh?”

“You know she won’t back off. Well, last night I was thinking.” Beckett puts two and two together to reach an entirely accurate four, but lets him continue without interruption. “O’Leary said simplify. So I did, and where I got to was that if Mother can’t back off she’ll have to move out.”

Beckett’s jaw metaphorically hits the table for a second time, hard enough that it might be broken. “You’ll move your mother out?” she squeaks. “Why?”

Castle’s face turns bright scarlet, and he drops his eyes. “Um… well… er…”

“Spit it out.”

“Um… if you come to the loft I don’t want Mother interrupting or making you uncomfortable and if she doesn’t start respecting what I or you say now she won’t then so this is really the only chance I’ve got to tell her so and make it stick. Or not,” he finishes, depressedly.

“So why Dr Burke?”

“See if I’d missed anything.”

Beckett fixes him with a pinpoint sharp glare.

“Okay. I felt guilty, okay, even though I’d make sure she had somewhere else nice to live and pay for it. I thought he’d be the best person to sort me out. After all, it’s affecting you too.”

Beckett considers. “Guilty?”

“She looked after me when we didn’t have much. Anything. I feel I should look after her now – she made so many sacrifices.”

“Mm,” Beckett hums, and pats his hand, swiftly withdrawn as the food arrives. She hasn’t commented on his ordering for her, and she doesn’t intend to – today. If he does it again, words may be had. She considers very briefly while the food is put down, sips her milkshake meditatively, and decides. “That’s exactly how I thought about Dad. Except I was so focused on family and you’re focused on helping, but it’s the same thing. Isn’t it?”

“That’s what Burke said,” Castle agrees. “He dressed it up, but that’s it.”

“He’s been right so far,” Beckett says rather jaundicedly. He may be brilliant but she still really does not appreciate his style. “He’s likely right this time.” Her mouth twists a little.

“Yeah,” says Castle, equally acid. “So anyway, I’m going to leave it till after the weekend. I’m going to tell Mother that your dad will call her Friday night, after the session – however it goes. Unless you shoot him, of course?”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Beckett points out laconically, and munches her lunch. “We need to – well, I need to get back. You coming, Castle?”

“Yeah, for a bit. You can tell me where to get that cheese bread” –

“Khachapuri” –

“and I’ll get some. How many do I need? I mean, three for you, but…”

Beckett growls, without any malice behind it. “Get six. I can freeze them.”

“No no no. If anyone’s going to freeze them, it’s me.”

“Who knows how to cook Georgian?”

“You,” Castle says sulkily.

“So who’s getting the spare khachapuri?”

Castle pouts, bats his eyes, produces his best puppy-dog face, and makes no impression whatsoever on Beckett’s granite hard resolve to keep her khachapuri.

“You are,” he eventually grudges.

“Now we’ve got that sorted, c’mon. Back to phone records. Ugh.”

Round about four o’clock Castle wanders off. Nothing interesting has occurred since lunchtime. Nothing interesting was looking as if it would happen for the rest of the day, and he really needs to talk to his mother. She should be awake, and she is unlikely to have departed for the evening. He trails home without any enthusiasm at all.

His non-enthusiasm is further diminished when he finds his mother already embarking on a Bloody Mary.

“A little early, Mother?”

“Nonsense. It’s never too early for a little drink.”

Castle refrains from commenting with some difficulty.

“I’m taking Beckett to the Hamptons for the weekend, Mother. Will you be here for Alexis, or do I need to arrange something else?”

“I shall be here,” his mother says.

“Good. Now, Jim Beckett would like to see you and Alexis. He seems to think” – Castle is not so much shading the truth as reversing it – “it would be a nice idea to see you both. If you don’t want to, he can talk to Alexis. They liked each other.”

Martha preens a little, clearly believing that her personality has claimed another conquest.

“That sounds delightful, darling. Shall I call him?”

“No, he’s busy. He’ll call you tomorrow night.”

Martha, fortunately, asks nothing more, being more interested in her Bloody Mary than in her son. Castle decamps upstairs to talk to Alexis, who might be a little more receptive.

“Dad? What’s up?”

“I want to talk to you.” Castle shuts the door quietly.

“Okay,” Alexis says happily, putting her pen down on her notes. “Why?”

“I’m taking Detective Beckett up to the Hamptons for the weekend.”

“Good,” Alexis says firmly. “She’ll like it there.”

Castle doesn’t so much as flicker an eyelash to indicate that Beckett has already liked it there. Lots.

“While we’re there, Mr Beckett would like to see you and Grams.”

“Why?” Alexis asks, very suspiciously. “What are you plotting, Dad?”

“You remember I said that they were having some difficulties, and that’s why they haven’t been back? Mr Beckett wants to talk to you and Grams about some of the reasons – his reasons. Detective Beckett would be very upset if she were here, so she won’t be. Grams needs to hear this so that she stops trying to interfere.” He pauses, and decides to trust Alexis with a lot more. “Grams is trying to mother Detective Beckett. That’s not going to work. She doesn’t want a replacement mother and if Grams keeps trying there’s likely to be a spectacular blow-up. Grams isn’t going to win that fight, and I’m not going to stop it.”

“You won’t defend Grams?”

“No.” Castle is very firm. “Grams has been asked to back off several times, and if she doesn’t listen after she’s heard Mr Beckett, then she’ll have to take her own licks. I’ve told her it wouldn’t be a good idea, I’ve asked her not to interfere, and so have you. It’s up to her now.”

Alexis is quiet for a short space. “Okay, Dad. If this sorts things out so Detective Beckett comes back, I’ll help. I like her.”

“She likes you, pumpkin. If she didn’t she wouldn’t bother trying to fix this.”

He notices Alexis’s slight look of confusion.

“Okay, now for the hard bit. Mr Beckett had some trouble with alcohol.”

“I guessed. He only drank soda.”

Castle boggles a little, and considers enrolling Alexis at Quantico.

“Er – okay. Anyway, Detective Beckett had to pick up the pieces for quite a while, and she finds it a bit difficult because we’re a bit like they used to be when she was your age, and then they weren’t, because of the drinking.”

“Okay,” Alexis says slowly, a little confused.

“So, Mr Beckett’s going to explain a bit to Grams about his history, which explains why trying to push Beckett to come here isn’t a good plan, but if you can, I’d like you to keep Grams on the history and ask any questions you want to as well. I really, really want Grams to understand that everyone’s already trying to fix this and she doesn’t need to get involved.”

Alexis stares at him for a while with a very strange expression on her face. “Dad, are you treating me like an adult or something?”

“Don’t I always?”

“No, even if you do let me parent you. You usually try to keep difficult things away from me. You always try to keep your girlfriends away from me. So what’s different this time?”

“Er…” Castle entirely fails to find a good answer, and changes the subject. “You’ll understand better after the weekend. Even if Grams doesn’t, you listen carefully to Mr Beckett. After that, we’ll continue this discussion.”

“Okay,” Alexis says amiably, already turning back to her homework. “But I think you should hang on to Detective Beckett. I like her. She’s real.”

“Thanks,” he says, hugging her.

“Good evening, Detective Beckett, Mr Castle.”

“Hey,” both say in tandem.

“Your father is not here yet.” Dr Burke states. “I have spoken to him, and he wishes to apologise to Mr Castle. We shall see how that transpires. Mr Castle, are you still content that he should speak to your family?”

“Yeah.” Mr Castle does not sound happy about it.

“Good. Now, Detective Beckett, I think that you and your father should consider discussing your different views of what was to be achieved by Sunday’s brunch. In that way, further steps might be less awkward. It is always helpful if both parties have the same view of the outcome to be achieved.”

Detective Beckett elevates an eyebrow. “You don’t say,” she drawls. Dr Burke raises his own eyebrows at her. She shrugs, but drops her eyes, embarrassed. “Okay. If he’s going to apologise properly to Castle… then okay.”

“Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

“Dinner,” Detective Beckett says.

“That would be the dinner between your families?”

“Yes. I want to wait till later in the session and see how we’ve gone.”

“Very well. Will you set up your game, or do you not think it necessary?”

“Set up. It makes it easier.”

Detective Beckett does so, and just as she places the last man Mr Beckett is shown in.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Jim,” Mr Castle says rather stiffly.

“Good evening.”

“Hello,” Mr Beckett says. He sounds slightly nervous.

“Er… excuse me a moment,” Detective Beckett says. Dr Burke suddenly understands what she is doing, and approves. “Too much coffee.” She disappears briskly out the door.

“Um…” Mr Beckett says, “um… Rick… I’m sorry about the other day. I was just so wound up about Katie blocking everything and – er – I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It’s not you. I’m sorry.”

There is a very tiny pause.

“Accepted,” Mr Castle says, still a little coolly.

Detective Beckett reappears, flicks a quick glance round all three men, receives a short nod from Dr Burke and a smile from Mr Castle, followed by a weaker one from Mr Beckett, and sits down at the table. She has, once more, taken blue.

“Still always blue, Katie?”

“I like it,” she says, unoffended. Mr Beckett relaxes slightly.

A few rounds are played. Dr Burke is quite delighted, although he conceals it, to start a man early on, and then to be able to send a man of Mr Beckett’s back to its Home. He is beginning to enjoy this game.

Detective Beckett pounces on a man of her father’s without compunction. “Sorry, Dad.” She hesitates. “I didn’t want to talk about anything… difficult at brunch. I just wanted something normal.”

“But… well, I missed so much and I wanted to know about a bit of your life I missed.”

Detective Beckett stares at her father. “Didn’t you listen to me in here, three weeks ago? Didn’t you hear what I said about graduation?” she says unhappily. “What part of you weren’t there and you know what, I was relieved, and then I felt guilty about it didn’t you hear? How can you think I want to go back over that time? I don’t want to remember any of it because all I remember is you being drunk and me feeling guilty that I wasn’t dealing with it. You don’t get do-overs. You missed it. Telling you about the Academy doesn’t change that.”

“So I don’t get to congratulate you on success now even if I didn’t then? It doesn’t matter what I do to make amends, you don’t want to share any of the good things that happened while I was drunk? Okay, I should never have fallen into the bottle, and no, there aren’t do-overs, but how do we ever get back to normal if every time I ask you about something you just shut me out? I want to do normal things, like congratulating you and hearing about your life and” –

“Stop pushing, Dad. It’s not you who gets to set how this goes. It’s me. I’ll go as fast as I’m ready for, and you need to respect that. If I want to leave the heavy stuff for in here and have nice, sociable brunches where we don’t unload emotions all over the table then that’s what I’ll do. All the past is heavy stuff, right now, and I don’t want to get into this without Dr Burke right there. I’m trying to make this better. Are you sure you are? After all, you’re butting heads with Castle. Do you really want this fixed?”

Dr Burke steps in, before a serious breach develops. “I think a short time-out is indicated. Mr Beckett, if you would come with me? Detective Beckett, if you would stay here with Mr Castle.” He escorts Mr Beckett out and into another room.

“Jim,” Dr Burke says, “I appreciate that your daughter’s words have hurt you, but she does have a point. Trying to force the pace of reconciliation will not help, and as you are seeing, may hinder. I counsel you to reflect on that for a moment, while I deal with your daughter.”

Dr Burke steps out, and takes a moment or so to calm himself. It will not help if he informs Mr Beckett that Detective Beckett need not preserve a relationship with her father. It is, however, very tempting. Temptation should be resisted, when it is merely a mask for relieving one’s irritation.

“Detective Beckett, would you explain to me how you feel about your father right now?”

“I want him to stop pushing. He just keeps on trying to do things that I’m not ready for and I feel like I have to go further than I want to because otherwise he’ll be hurt and then I remember that I’ve a right to do this my way but I still feel guilty about saying no to him and can’t he just stop?” She draws in a very harsh breath. “If he can’t stop pushing there’s no way I can sit through a dinner with him and Alexis. He’ll see it as his reward for pushing and push harder, and I can’t do that. He has to back off. And leave Castle alone.”

“I entirely agree. Let me go and speak to him for a few moments.”

As Dr Burke leaves he hears the deep rumble of Mr Castle consoling Detective Beckett. He returns to the soothingly green-tinted room in which Mr Beckett is sitting.

“Jim, let me explain.”

“Why can’t Katie explain?”

“Because the two of you are not yet communicating effectively,” Dr Burke states flatly. “She hears your comments through her own hurt and you hear hers through yours. Therefore I mediate between you. Translate, if you will.”

“Oh.”

“For example, your brunch. She wanted to be normal and light. You wanted to delve into the history and success you missed. That, to her, brings only pain and unhappy memories, where it would make you feel that you understood more of her life. She closed down that avenue, and you felt rejected. Is that not accurate?”

“Ye-es,” drags out Mr Beckett.

“We are all trying to heal your daughter’s hurts. If we can do that, yours will follow. However, no matter how much you wish to help heal her, trying to hurry the process will fail. Her description of how you are behaving is that you are pushing her to do things that she is not ready for, and making her feel guilty that she cannot do them and must say no to you. I know that you only wish to help. She is yet to be convinced. You must slow down. It has been difficult enough to slow your daughter down: I do not wish her to repeat her mistakes of the previous therapy.” Dr Burke changes tack. “She wishes to mend the breach between you, but not at any price. Please, Jim, take a step back. Let her make the first moves, and then respond. It will answer far better than anything else will.”

Dr Burke stands up. “Take a few moments. There is coffee in the pot, should you wish some. When you are ready, simply return.”

Dr Burke exits, to return to Detective Beckett’s room. He notes without surprise that Mr Castle’s arm is protectively around her shoulders, and only slides off slowly, without embarrassment.

“Your father is taking a few minutes to consider. In that time, please would you consider whether, if he can rein in his attempts to try to force the pace, you would still consider inviting him, together with Miss Castle, to dinner. You need not answer now.”

Dr Burke sits down and contemplates the Sorry board with some satisfaction. He appears to be winning, although the game is at such an early stage it would be foolish to expect it to continue.

After a few moments, Mr Beckett sidles in, rather sheepishly. Detective Beckett looks up.

“It’s your go, Dad,” she says, remarkably mildly. It sounds, to Dr Burke’s experienced ear, as if she is trying to bring this back to normality.

“Okay.” Mr Beckett sits down, and draws. It’s a four. He looks crossly at it, and moves four squares backwards, which helps him not at all.   “I… didn’t mean to upset you, Katie. I just want this fixed. But… it’s up to you.”

“Okay. I… I know you want to know, but I’m not ready to talk about it. If I was, I would.” She draws an eleven, considers the board, and exchanges her man with one of Mr Castle’s, simultaneously thereby improving her position immensely while providing Mr Castle with only a very small advantage. “I’m trying. Just let me do it in my own time. I want you to talk to Castle’s family, because it’s the only thing I can think of that might help.” She stops. “It’s your go, Castle.”

Play continues without anything of importance being said for another few rounds.   Dr Burke notes with pleasure that he is still proceeding quite satisfactorily, in both the game and with this session. Detective Beckett has, quite deliberately, reaffirmed to her father that he has a place in her life. Her father has backed off. Matters are moving smoothly in precisely the direction Dr Burke would wish.

The game is not complete when the allotted hour of Detective Beckett’s session is up. Detective Beckett is winning, slightly surprisingly, a short head in front of Mr Castle. Dr Burke is not far behind that. Mr Beckett is a long way off. Detective Beckett regards the board. Then she regards her father, very obviously steels herself, and speaks.

“Dad, I’d like for you, me, Castle and Alexis to have dinner.”

“Sure, Katie.”

“But.”

Mr Beckett’s face falls.

“I want to know how your talk with them goes first.”

“And for God’s sake don’t mention it to either my mother or Alexis yet,” Castle adds. “We really don’t want Mother there.”

Detective Beckett frowns Mr Castle into silence. “And if you promise not to raise anything… difficult, and if you stop sniping at Castle. I just want this to be easy.”

“Okay. Yes. Whatever you need, Katie.”

Dr Burke smiles very satisfiedly as the door closes behind his patients.