Star Trek_ Generations - J M. Dillard [66]
Here was Olivia, the eldest at thirteen, grown suddenly tall and willowy this past year; and here was Matthew, just seven, still chubby-cheeked, with his mothers brilliant mind for mathematics. And here was Madison, aged ten, with his fathers dark hair and love of military history, and Thomas, his twinand Mimi, the baby at five, the much-adored apple of her fathers eye.
He stared at them in awe and realized that this was his home, these were his children, and that he loved each of them with an intensity and tenderness he had never before known.
Go on …
A soft voice at his elbow took him aback. He whirled, and saw his gentle captorgolden-haired, straight, slendersmiling at him with the same indulgent love in her green eyes.
He had never met her; yet he knew that this beautiful creature was Elise, his wife of the past sixteen years. And she had spoken to him in French.
Say something, Elise urged, with fond impatience, and rested a hand lightly upon his shoulder. Theyre waiting.
He released a breath, overwhelmed, and then a soft, uncertain laugh. I … I dont know what to say …
Oliviaknown, for good reason, Picard knew, to her brothers as Bossyspoke up. Say Merry Christmas, Papa!
Merry … He faltered as his gaze swept around the room. Christmas.
The youngest, Mimi, let out a cry of pleasure and began to applaud. The other children followed suit; Elise leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. Dazed, he let her lead him to a large, overstuffed chaira respectable copy of Roberts chair at the family estate, the one he never permitted anyone else to sit in, not even René … and certainly not his brother, Jean-Luc. Picard had privately sworn to himself that, when he retired, he would have a similar chair made, and put in his living room.
And here it was.
He settled into it with a satisfied sighit was every bit as comfortable as he had imaginedand watched as the children dashed over to the tree and began noisily distributing presents.
This ones for you …
Wheres mine?
I hope this is the book I asked for …
Take this one to Papa …
Contentment covered him like a blanket. He shared a blissful look with Elise, then gazed back at the bustling, laughing children with a sense of such complete joy that a smile spread, unbidden, across his lips.
Little Mimi bounded over to him, her round face flushed, her long golden curls bouncing, and put a dimpled hand upon the arm of his chair. Isnt the tree beautiful, Papa?
Picard reached out and stroked her impossibly soft hair. Oh yes, he answered, surprised at how easilyhow naturallythe words came to him, at how utterly natural it all seemed, as though he had spent every moment of the last sixteen years in this house with this woman, as though he had loved this child from the day she was born. Yes, its astonishingly beautiful. All of it.
As he spoke, the other children gathered round; Matthew, standing with almost military stiffness, produced a beribboned package from behind his back and handed it to his father. This is from all of us.
Thank you, Picard said, with genuine sincerity. I cant imagine what it is …
He pulled off the ribbon, tore away the paper wrapping, and opened the box. Inside, cradled in tissue, was a curved instrument of gleaming polished brass. Picard lifted it carefully and held it to the light. It was a beautiful piece, one that had been used by some nineteenth-century sailor to navigate by the stars; no question of it. A grin of pure delight spread slowly over his lips.
Its a sack-tent! Thomas cried excitedly.
Picard chuckled. You mean a sextant. And its a handsome one at that … from about eighteen-twenty, Id say. Wherever did you find it?
Mimi tilted her head coyly. Its a secret.
Oh, a secret. Picards smile grew conspiratorial. Well, that makes it a doubly special gift. He shared a look with each child. Thank you. Thank you all …
Impulsively, Mimi crawled into the chair