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The night was cooler now that the sun had begun to set, cloaking the Parisian suburbs in a golden hue as the day gave birth to night. The world always seemed to grow quieter around this time as the sun dipped closer and closer to the horizon in a painfully slow dance with the moon until only the last traces of gold remained in the darkening sky.
“Mama, is it time yet?” Gustave asked for the fifth time that hour, gently tugging on his mother’s skirt.
“I think so, my dear,” Christine replied as she glanced away from the window, unable to stop from laughing quietly at the look of pure delight on her son’s face. “You know where the jar is, don’t you? Why don’t you go fetch it?”
Gustave nodded and turned on his heel, immediately running back to his room. The glass jar in question rested on his dresser. Standing up on the tips of his toes, he pulled the jar down from its perch, then turned to walk carefully out of the bedroom so as not to accidentally drop and break the glass.
The boy had been gone for only a minute or two by the time he returned to their back door. He opened his mouth to proudly announce to his mother that he’d gotten the jar, only to shut it again and scrunch up his nose when he noticed that his father had joined his mother, the two of them engaged in a kiss. “Ew!”
Erik broke the kiss with a laugh, glancing over to his son. “Terribly sorry, my boy, I hadn’t seen you,” he said, chuckling at the look of disgust on the child’s face. “I just can’t help myself when your mother looks this lovely.”
Christine’s cheeks flushed lightly. “Thank you, my love, she murmured. She forced herself to take a step backward out of his embrace, though she would have been far more content to simply let him hold her. “Gustave and I are going outside. Would you like to join us?”
“Outside? At this hour? Why would you do that?” Erik asked, his brow knit in confusion. “Just stay inside and read with me by the fireplace, dearest. We can all sit together, just the three of us, and perhaps enjoy some of that cake Cook made.”
“But Papa, we’re going to catch the fireflies! I even got my special jar and everything,” Gustave protested, his bottom lip protruding in a displeased pout at the suggestion of changing their evening plans. Even at five years of age, he had a great fascination with insects, especially ones that flew, and he constantly asked his mother when they could next go out to catch the little glowing creatures. He surely didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity, not even for cake.
Erik sighed quietly, though he certainly couldn’t fault the child. He had been fascinated about nature himself at that age, and he was happy to see that his son had a passion, even if he would surely find a new one in a few months at the most. “Alright, alright. But do you think I could convince you to join me for cake afterward?”
“Okay, Papa,” Gustave replied, grinning back at his father. “Are you going to come with us? Please?”
Noticeably hesitant, Erik glanced over to his wife for some sort of assistance. While he had been fascinated by insects and other aspects of nature in his youth, he had to admit that he no longer carried the interest. Rather, he tended to avoid nature at any cost, with the small exception of going on walks as a family. However, as he glanced back to the young boy and saw the eager look upon his round face, he couldn’t fathom turning the child down. “Alright, Gustave, I’ll come,” he said softly. “However, don’t expect me to be very much help. I’ve never done this before.”
“I can show you, I can show you!” Gustave insisted, bounding outside as soon as his mother opened the door. “Follow me!”
“Be careful, my dear, you’ll scare the fireflies away,” Christine said with a quiet laugh as she caught her son’s arm. “Here, give me the jar, then you can show your father how to capture the fireflies.”
Gustave obeyed, passing the glass to his mother before grabbing his father’s hand and tugging him into the yard. “You have to hold your hands like this,” he explained as he demonstrated cupping his hands for his father. “And then Mama says you have to wait for one to come close before you catch it really, really carefully.” He slowly moved in the direction of one of the bugs and attempt to enclose it in his hands, only to pout when he missed. “Aww.”
Erik chuckled quietly and leaned over to kiss his son’s forehead. “That’s okay, we’ll keep trying. I’m sure you’re better at it than I am,” he replied, looking around for a bug to capture.
“Look, Papa, there’s one there. Try to get it.” Gustave gently nudged his father in the direction of the firefly.
It took a few tries, but Erik eventually managed to capture the bug, letting out a quiet laugh once he had it clasped in his hands. “Okay, I have it. Now, what do I do with it?”
“Bring it here, my love. We have to get it in the jar,” Christine replied, shaking her head fondly as he made his way over. She lowered her voice to softly tell him, “This will make his day, you know. His favorite activity with his favorite person.”
Erik cautiously opened his hands, just enough to let the creature fly into the jar, watching his wife swiftly cover it with the lid. “I very much doubt that I am his favorite person, but I do hope he enjoys this. His excitement is sweet.”
“You are his favorite person, and he is enjoying this,” Christine replied with a smile, leaning closer to press a kiss to her husband’s cheek. “Now, go on, help him catch some more.”
Erik smiled and turned back to his son just in time to see him capture one of the glowing bugs, a huge grin on the child’s face. He couldn’t help laughing at bit at the sight, amazed that the child could be entertained by something so simple. If it meant that his son would keep smiling in that adorable, easily-excited way of his, though, Erik would have spent all night catching fireflies with his son.