Family Treasure

Author: JDillon

Email: jdillon@mail.win.org

Rating: PG

Summary: Burton gives Nick a family keepsake. 

Author's Notes: This story takes place shortly after the events in the episode 
"Family", but before the events in my stories, "The Truth" and "The Truth Part 
II". For convenience, I've set this story on a weekend, even though that may not 
exactly jive with the time line in "Family" or my other follow-on stories.

Authors Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of a character in 
this story to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any 
resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual 
organization is purely coincidental.


 
 
It was a sunny Friday afternoon in February. Burton Fallin was sitting at his 
desk in his office at "Fallin & Associates". Head bent, reading glasses firmly 
in place, he was making notes on a contract for "Three Rivers' Sporting Goods". 
 
There was a knock at the door, and Burton looked up. "Come in," he called out. 
His son Nick walked in the door. "Hey," said Burton, as his eyes returned to the 
papers in front of him. 
 
Nick walked over to stand in front of his father's desk, hands on hips. "Wanted 
to tell you that the briefs for the "Stevens Chemical" case are almost ready. 
Jake and I just need to address a couple small points." 
 
"Good, good," said Burton. "That's fine, son... Oh," he said, looking up, "I 
talked to Morris Goldman earlier. He's coming in Monday at 3:00." 
 
Nick nodded, and turned to go, but Burton called him back. "Oh, Nicholas, one 
more thing. I thought you might stop by the house tomorrow. I have something I 
want to show you." Burton smiled at his son with a slightly mysterious air. 
 
"What is it?" Nick asked with mild curiosity. 
 
"Well, I'd rather keep that a surprise, son, but I think you'll be pleased. How 
'bout 11:00?" 
 
Nick studied his father for a few seconds, and then said, "Okay." Burton nodded, 
as he replied, " 'kay. See you then." As Nick left the office, Burton stared 
after him smiling. He was really looking forward to seeing Nick's reaction to 
his "surprise". 
 
--+-
 
It was a little after 11:00 on Saturday morning. Burton was sitting in his 
dining room, the "Pittsburgh Post-Gazette" spread out before him. There was a 
half-empty cup of coffee on the table, and he was enjoying a cigarette. He had 
just taken a fresh drag when the doorbell rang. He glanced at his watch, and 
then got up to answer the door. As expected, it was Nick. Burton greeted his son 
with a glad smile. "Morning, son. Come on in. It's a cold one today, huh?" 
 
"Morning," Nick replied, with a nod to acknowledge his father's observation on 
the weather. 
 
Burton shut the door, and Nick took off his coat. As he was placing it on the 
coat tree, his father said, "How 'bout a cup of coffee, Nick? I think there's 
still some in the pot." 
 
"No, I'm good, thanks." Nick replied. 
 
"Okay," said Burton, taking another draw on his cigarette. "Well, why don't we 
go into the study, then? I'll show you my surprise." Nick nodded, and followed 
his father into the other room. 
 
Entering the study, Burton led Nick over to his desk. He stubbed out his 
cigarette in a convenient ashtray, and then reached for something on the 
desktop. "Here, here it is, " he said, as he picked up a large black photo 
album, and offered it to Nick. Nick took the album, and examined it curiously. 
It was obviously quite old, and showed visible signs of wear. The cover was torn 
in several places. The pages were made of stiff black paper, and bound together 
with a looped piece of black cord, tied with a bow. Nick looked questioningly at 
his father. 
 
"It was your mother's," Burton said, pleased with his surprise. "From when she 
was a girl. I, uhm, found it in a box of her things. Here, come sit here, and 
you can take a look." He gestured to the chair behind the desk. Nick moved 
slowly to take the offered seat. He carried the album with almost reverent care, 
a look of stunned amazement on his face. Placing the album gently on the desk, 
he sat down. He spent a few seconds just gazing at it, and then put his hand out 
to run his fingers over the edges of the torn cover. As his hand touched the 
book, a look of wonder spread over his features. He hadn't said a word, but it 
was obvious that he was overcome with emotion at his father's find. 
 
Finally, Nick opened the album. The first thing that met his gaze were black and 
white photos of a tiny infant. Each picture was secured to the page with four 
corner attachments, several of which had come loose. In the upper right hand of 
the first page was a baby announcement. It was about 5'' x 4'', pink, with a 
picture of a smiling baby girl on the front. Nick reached out a hand, and 
touched the announcement, stroking his fingers once over the picture of the 
baby. He opened it, and read: 
 
Mr and Mrs Charles Wentworth
are pleased to announce the birth of their daughter:
Anne Marie Wentworth
Born: October 11th, 1942 at 12:33AM
Length: 19 inches
Weight: 6 lbs, 1 oz. 
Mother and child are prospering. 
 
Nick gazed at the announcement spellbound. Burton had moved up to stand next to 
his son, and was watching him closely, a smile playing on his face. After a 
moment, Nick closed the card, and turned his attention to the baby pictures. 
Some showed the baby girl alone, lying on a blanket. Others showed her held in 
her mother's arms. A few had captured a trio of mother, father, and child. He 
gently touched the border of several of the pictures, as if by touching them he 
could preserve the images more clearly in his mind. 
 
Head bent over the album, smiling continually, Nick turned the pages slowly, 
savoring each new set of photos. Each new page was a revelation, and he was 
captivated by what he saw - photos of his mother as a toddler trying to mount a 
rocking horse... as a child of 4 or 5 hunting Easter Eggs on the lawn... at six, 
proudly showing off her first lost tooth. He was simply fascinated by this 
glimpse into his mother's childhood. Every once in a while, Nick would pause and 
shoot a joyful, but slightly embarrassed look up at his father. Burton's own 
face reflected the pleasure he took in seeing his son's delight. 
 
After several minutes, Nick came to a set of photos that looked familiar. He 
quickly realized they must have been taken at the same time as the picture of 
his mother he had seen in Aunt Liz's house. Burton recognized the familiarity of 
the pictures too, and shared a smile with his son. Nick returned to studying the 
photographs. Dad had said the picture had been taken on Cape Cod when his mother 
was about 12 years old. The picture at the house had showed his mother and 
another younger girl. Nick had wanted to ask Liz at the time who this other 
child was, but there hadn't been time. He frowned as he remembered why not - his 
cousin Jeremy's reckless stunt of driving off in his mother's car. "Dumb kid," 
Nick found himself thinking, and sighed. After a moment, he dismissed that 
unpleasant episode from his mind, and returned his attention to the pictures. 
 
Nick had discovered as he had made his way through the album that some pages 
included captions listing the subjects in a picture, or indicating where the 
photos had been taken. This particular page held a caption, as well. At the top, 
in faded, silver ink it said, "At play on Cape Cod - 1953". From the caption of 
a picture very similar to the one he'd seen at Liz's, he learned that the 
"mystery" girl was his mother's cousin Jane. 
 
When Nick was almost at the end of the album he came to a photograph of his 
mother at her debutante ball. She was lovely, dressed in a white, flowing dress, 
her long dark hair carefully arranged. His father saw the picture, and said with 
pleasure, "Just look at that... Your mother was always a real beauty, son... a 
real beauty." Nick didn't reply, but stared at the picture for a long time. 
 
There were only a few more photos in the book. One appeared to be a high school 
graduation picture, and included a placard that said "Miss Kensington's School 
for Young Ladies - Class of 1961". His mother looked almost put upon in this 
picture, and Nick smiled, wondering at the cause. Another photo showed his 
mother flanked by her smiling parents. He studied this picture for a long time, 
as well. He remembered his grandparents, of course, but they had been much older 
then. In his clearest memories they must have been well into their sixties. His 
mind quickly veered away from that - his clearest memories of his grandparents 
were the ones associated with his mother's death. Returning to contemplation of 
the photograph, he realized how strange it seemed to be looking at a picture of 
his grandparents when they were younger than his mother would be now. 
 
At last, Nick turned over the last page, and closed the album with care. He sat 
silently for a moment, his hand still resting on the front cover. It was obvious 
he was still overwhelmed by what he had seen. 
 
"It's yours, son," Burton said into the silence. "I should have given it to you 
years ago, but I haven't been in those boxes, in ages. I completely forgot the 
album was even in there. You, you take it with you. Your mother would have 
wanted you to have it." 
 
At these words, Nick looked up at his father. His eyes were glistening, but his 
face was glowing with pleasure. "Tha- thank you," he said, his voice breaking on 
the first word. He quickly lowered his head, embarrassed for his father to see 
how much the gift meant to him. He stood up, the album clasped tightly in his 
arms. Without another word he began to walk toward the front of the house. His 
father followed after him silently. Reaching the entryway, Nick laid the album 
down on the hall table, and retrieved his coat from the coat tree. Putting it 
on, he picked up the album again. He turned, and gave his father another 
self-conscious, but visibly grateful, look. "Thank you," he said again, too full 
of emotion to add anything else to the words. "You're welcome, son," Burton 
replied, but Nick was already out the door. Burton stood in the doorway, and 
raised a hand in farewell as his son drove off. Then with a self-satisfied 
smile, he shut the door, and returned to his newspaper. 
 
 
END