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“It goes on top? ”
Holding a shiny silver star in one hand and a step stool in the other, B’Elanna looks to her daughter in exasperation.
“Twee!” Miral shouts as she points to the new decoration in their quarters. A decoration that takes up way too much room, in B’Elanna’s opinion. Not to mention it’s probably going to poke her eye out at some point.
“Yes, Miri. It’s a Christmas tree, for Daddy.” She holds up the ornament. “And this is a star.”
“Tar!”
B’Elanna laughs. “Very good. Star. Daddy’s star.”
She turns to the tree and sighs, mumbling, “If only I could figure out where the top of this damned tree is.”
Going back to stacking her blocks, Miral sings, “Tar, tar. Twee, tar. Datty tar. Tistist twee tar.”
Picking out what seems like a reasonable spot, B’Elanna sets the stool half-under the branches and steps up. As she’s stretching to attach the topper, her door chimes.
“Come in,” she calls.
“Comim!” Miral echoes.
Joe Carey walks in and freezes.
“Hey! You’re just in time. I can’t reach this. I don’t even know if it’s the right place. The box says ‘tree topper’ but I don’t have any idea… Joe?” She shoves a branch out of the way to see his face.
“B’Elanna. What is that? ” He points to the tree.
“Um, it’s a Christmas tree.”
“TISTIST TWEE!” Miral screams, still excited over the new words. She makes an effort to climb to her feet and half walks, half stumbles in Joe’s direction. He bends and scoops her up before she crashes into his legs.
“A Christmas tree?”
At Joe’s confused look, B’Elanna explains, “Yeah, Christmas. You know, one of those Earth traditions of celebrating family when it’s ridiculously cold outside or something like that. I don’t really… It’s, um, Tom’s thing. He had some ornaments and other decorations packed away… I thought maybe I should show Miral.”
B’Elanna turns away, blinking back tears before climbing down. Talking about Tom is still painful. She’s kept her emotions in check the entire time she was decorating the tree and she isn’t about to lose it now, when the tree is so close to finished.
Walking over to them and giving her daughter a kiss, she says, “Miri needs to learn things about Daddy, don’t you baby girl?”
The child squeals and pats B’Elanna’s cheeks with both palms. Then she turns and does the same to Joe.
“So, do you think we should tell her?” he asks Miral in a conspiring tone, tickling her belly. She giggles.
“Tell me what?”
Not responding, he walks up to the tree, examining every ornament carefully placed on its own branch, raising his eyebrows at the blinking lights wrapped haphazardly all the way to the trunk, nodding at the silver and gold garland.
Miral touches one of the shiny strands. “Twee,” she whispers in awe. “Twee, twee, twee!” Her little fist shakes and unravels some of the garland.
“Okay. That’s too close.” Joe laughs, prying the bunched up decoration from the little girl’s hand and backing away.
“So?” B’Elanna asks impatiently. “Does it pass the Joe Carey inspection?”
“Well, the blue and orange lights sure are different.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, B’Elanna frowns, “Why? I think they look nice.”
“No no no. They do. It looks great. Really. You did a lovely job.” He smirks, “Someone has an interesting taste in decorations. There are a lot of old vehicles hanging on there.”
She holds up her hands, “Don’t look at me. Those were all in the box. I just replicated the lights and the tree.”
“Tar! Mama, tar!”
Miral waves a finger at the topper still in B’Elanna’s grasp.
“Oh right. This. Daddy’s star.” She looks to Joe, “Can you?”
“Um, sure.”
They trade child for ornament and Joe returns to the tree. “Where exactly…?”
“Oh I don’t know,” B’Elanna huffs and waves a hand. “Up there somewhere.”
Joe clips the star to the highest point on the tree, taking his hands away slowly and waiting for the branch to bounce a few times before settling into place slightly lower than before. He backs up to stand next to B’Elanna.
“It’s perfect,” she sighs.
Joe smiles. “Yes. It’s the most beautiful Christmas Oak I’ve ever seen.”
“You know, the tree really does look nice,” Joe says from his prone position on the floor of B’Elanna’s quarters a week later. He’s on his side, propped up on one elbow, head resting in his hand.
“Sure. For an oak tree.” She rolls her eyes and finishes recycling the last of the dinner dishes.
“Twee,” Miral pipes up next to Joe, then shoves a toy car toward him.
Joe picks up the miniature Camaro, sets it back on its wheels, and gives the bumper a nudge. It rolls easily on the hard Starfleet carpet.
“You ever think about putting something softer down?” he asks B’Elanna, but she doesn’t hear him.
“It seems fitting,” Tom said when he presented the little automobile to her somewhere around the start of her third trimester, “that her first car should be the model she was conceived in.”
He’d gotten a good smack for that one.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“You don’t know that for sure! And there is no way we’re telling her that’s why she has a toy Camaro.”
He just laughed at her.
“Vrooom vrooom!” Miral shouts, startling B’Elanna from the memory and making her jump.
“Hey, B? Are you okay?” Nothing gets past Joe.
She gives him a weak smile and nods, coming around the table and kneeling down to join them on the floor. After handing him a glass of wine, she takes a sip of her own, then sets it on the end table.
“Miri, are you driving Daddy’s Camaro?” she asks her daughter.
Miral gives a huge grin, showing off her eight baby teeth.
“Cararo vroom!” she giggles, sending the car in B’Elanna’s direction with too much force. It flips over several times before coming to rest upside down near B’Elanna’s hip.
Planting it rightside up, B’Elanna pushes the car toward her daughter.
Miral claps. “Cararo,” she repeats, looking from B’Elanna to Joe, eating up the attention they’re both giving her tonight.
Christmas Eve doesn’t mean much to most of the crew -- it wouldn’t mean anything to B’Elanna, either, if not for Tom’s traditions -- but Joe is one of the twenty or so people on Voyager who still celebrates the family holiday. Or rather, he used to, until he didn’t have any family to celebrate with.
Since this is just another day to almost everyone else, it was easy for Joe and B’Elanna to both get the afternoon and evening off. The three of them have sung Christmas songs with the computer, watched a cartoon called The Grinch on the TV, and had several crewmen stop by to spoil the darling of Voyager with a gift.
Joe had replicated what he called a ‘traditional Southern Christmas dinner’ of ham, green beans, sweet potato casserole, and, of course, biscuits. But it was the dessert that B’Elanna enjoyed most: pecan pie à la mode.
Now, after they’ve both consumed more than any person should ever eat, and even fed a few of the stray visitors, they finally have a chance to relax alone with Miral, who climbs unsteadily to her feet.
“Cararo,” she says, squatting to pick up the car, then dropping it to the floor. She toddles toward the tree.
“Beawy,” she says, picking up and hugging the stuffed animal the captain had given her a few days ago, then unceremoniously letting the bear fall as she moves on to the next object.
“Oh,” Joe laughs, “Looks like it’s time for ‘name that thing.’”
B’Elanna laughs with him and reaches for her wine. Seeing her daughter learn like this is fascinating. She really will need to remember to watch her language from now on, as Joe has been constantly reminding her since day one.
“Bathath,” Miral says next, opening and closing her hand as she reaches for the newest addition to the ornaments. It’s a little wooden bat’leth Joe had carved during his free time over the past week. ‘Merry Christmas,’ he’d said when he arrived that afternoon, handing the decoration to B’Elanna and smiling. ‘Something on that Christmas tree should be from Mama’s side.’
“Tar!” Miral exclaims, leaning back and pointing high up through the branches of the tree. Losing her balance, she plops down on her bottom and tilts her head at the tree trunk. Feeling the bark, she yells, “Tistist twee!”
“Christmas tree,” B’Elanna tries to correct, over enunciating.
Miral stares at her with wide eyes for a moment, then looks back at the tree and whispers, “Twistmis twee.”
“Closer,” Joe says, smiling.
“Christmas is a complicated word, you know.”
They laugh and Miral walks over, falling into B’Elanna’s lap.
“Mama!”
“Miri!” B’Elanna picks her up and squeezes her, adding a big, loud smooch to her chubby cheek. Miral shrieks and returns the favor with a slobbery kiss of her own before B’Elanna sets her back down.
Miral marches the four steps over to Joe and wraps her arms around his neck.
In a crystal clear voice she says, “Daddy!” then releases him and wanders away, pointing to a chair, the table, and a ball, while Joe and B’Elanna sit in shock, mouths hanging open.
Turning an impressive shade of red, Joe sits up.
"B'Elanna, I'm so sorry. I... I should go." He stands.
A strange disappointment washes over her, but she hides it with an apology. "No, Joe, I'm sorry. That must be so hard for you to hear right now, around this time of year, without your wife and boys."
"It's not that. It's..." He fumbles over his words. “I… I'm not Tom. I'm not her father, I know that. And I'm not trying to be. I didn't mean for her to call me that or to make her think that I’m her..."
B’Elanna gets up, too. "Joe, of course you're not trying to be Tom.” Hesitating for only a moment, she adds, “But... you are the only father-figure she's ever known. And we’ve been talking about ‘Daddy’s stuff’ for the last week."
"I have been around a lot lately. Maybe I should give you two some space?" he suggests.
"If that's what you think is best." Her mouth forms the words all on their own, while inside she’s begging for him to stay, to continue this peaceful feeling of a normal family they’ve somehow managed to build. She forces a small smile, unable to look at him.
“Right.” Joe crouches near one of the dining chairs. Moments before, Miral had rolled a ball under the table and she’d gone in after it. “Night night Miri,” he says with much less enthusiasm than usual.
“Ni ni Daddy,” she responds, crawling over to give him another wet kiss.
Standing, he murmurs, “Night, B’Elanna,” before rushing out.
"Goodnight, Joe,” B’Elanna says to the closing doors of her quarters. “Merry Christmas.”
The next morning B’Elanna rushes through her checklist in engineering and retreats to her office. She’s still in a somber mood after the disappointing way things turned out the night before.
Certainly she’d been taken aback when Miral called Joe ‘Daddy,’ but it was a completely understandable thing for the child to say. Cute even. She had wanted to laugh and give him a hug, too, squishing Miral between them. Unfortunately, Joe’s reaction was… Pained? Embarrassed? She didn’t know, but it wasn’t good.
She sits down at her desk and picks up the padd on top of the pile.
B’Elanna,
I want you to know that I’m here for you and that I care about you deeply. I'll be whatever you and Miral want me to be, even though you don't need me, or anyone. You're the strongest woman I've ever known. You are an excellent mother, and if it's you and Miral versus the universe, I'd bet on the two of you every time. Miral doesn't need a father to become a wonderful person, and you don't need a man to be happy. Nothing has to change. I'm content with my role in your lives, but if you want me to stay away, I will.
And if someday you decide you want more... well, I’ll be ready. I thought this letter from home might be relevant. I received it three years ago, from Sarah.
-Joe
B’Elanna reads the note two more times, then closes her eyes and lets it sink in for a while.
She doesn’t know yet if she would ever want more from Joe -- it’s too soon after Tom’s death for her to move on and Joe is married -- but she does know he has played a very important role in her and her daughter’s lives over the past year. There is no way she would choose to have him disappear from them now.
Finally ready, she opens the attachment that came with the message. It’s a long passage, but clearly only part of what Joe’s wife must have written him that first time. B’Elanna gnaws on her thumbnail as she begins to read.
The letter talks about how hard it was for Sarah when Joe disappeared. What it was like when he was officially declared dead. How she found comfort with another man, and how good that man was with their sons; how good he was to her. How the first time they kissed she felt so very guilty, but eventually she got past it. She fell in love with him. The boys were so excited when he moved in. They got a dog together and have started talking about rings. How sorry she is, but she can’t just shut off these feelings for this new man, stop living this new life she's moved on to. She hopes he will forgive her. And that maybe he can find someone else, too.
B’Elanna doesn’t realize she’s crying until she finishes the last sentence and notices how blurry the words have become.
Sarah’s letter hits so close to home. At least B’Elanna knows Tom is gone. He won’t be showing up in a few years to make her feel guilty about moving on. If she moves on...
Her heart aches for Joe. His wife had essentially left him. In that single communication during their fourth year out here, he had gotten a Dear John letter. He’d also found out he had a third son because Sarah was pregnant when Voyager disappeared. Until today, B’Elanna had only known about one of those things. She understands exactly why Joe finally told her the other half of his news.
B’Elanna wipes at her cheeks. It’s her turn to make the next move. If she doesn’t, Joe will keep his distance, she’s certain of it.
Placing the padd on her desk, she taps her comm badge.
“Torres to the Doctor.”
“Doctor here. What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”
“Are you busy tonight?”
--/--
B’Elanna is setting the soup on the table when Joe arrives. He’s quiet and fiddles with his jacket collar as he enters her quarters.
“Hey.”
“Hi B.”
When he doesn’t receive the usual squeal of greeting, he takes a quick look around, then frowns. "Where's Miri?"
"She's not here. The Doctor is watching her."
"He is? Why?" Joe asks with concern.
"Oh she’s fine.” B’Elanna waves a hand for him to sit. “You know Doc loves babysitting his goddaughter. He jumped at the chance.” She bites her lip, “And, um, I wanted to talk, just us."
"Ah. Okay..."
B’Elanna can tell he’s on edge, but she also sees a hint of something in his eyes. Hope, maybe.
For a while they enjoy their meal and stick to safe topics: engineering, ship’s gossip, that last planet they visited. They’re both tiptoeing around the reason they are having dinner alone tonight.
When the conversation stalls out, she takes a deep breath.
“Joe.”
He sets down his spoon and straightens, as if preparing himself for whatever she might throw his way.
“I’m sorry about Sarah. That you’re… alone now.”
“Thanks. I’ve moved past it.” Twisting his wedding band, he adds, “for the most part. But really, it’s okay, and… thanks.”
She bites her lip. “I want you to be a part of our lives, Miri’s especially. That's one thing I know for sure."
He sighs and gives her an easy smile, "Of course, B'Elanna."
The next part all tumbles out of her in a rush.
"And the fact that you're no longer married does change things. I think-” She shakes her head, “No, I know, in time, I'd like to try for something more. But it will be slow. And definitely not yet. I still miss Tom. Sometimes I find myself crying, the littlest things set me off. Helm calling me with a problem, Harry referencing a holodeck program, Miral's eyes…”
Her gaze drifts to the Christmas tree. “I understand if you don't want to deal with..." she shrugs, out of steam.
He takes her hand in his and squeezes it. "I can deal with anything. I'll wait as long as you need. And if you change your mind, that’s fine, too. No pressure, B'Elanna."
She’s still unable to speak but smiles and nods her head.
Joe grins back, letting go of her hand. He turns his attention toward the far end of the table. “Now, please tell me we’re going to eat that cake.”