Chapter Text
He didn’t know how he managed to end up there. It was becoming a bad habit every year without fail since his son was born. Last minute shopping was almost a ritual to their Christmas holidays. The frustration of missing out on hot items, and general rush of other last minute shoppers. They enjoyed it though, and although he promised for it to be different every year, they always wound up in the same place. He and Bear, wandering the aisles of their local mall, perusing shelves, picking special things for family.
Nat King Cole sang The Christmas Song over the speakers, a customer behind him hummed Jingle Bells. Ladies in festive jumpers argued over what they had picked for nieces and nephews, while little Bear Grady, age six, stared lovingly at the wall of LEGO. Owen always bought him something on these trips. Something the boy really wanted, something that he never knew about until Christmas day, but always something he pointed out on their Christmas Eve trips.
His father was unprepared, had been for years. He was the worst concerning Christmas, telling his boy that he never had time to come home for the holidays while he was in the Navy. It stopped being a family tradition, and instead, an estranged custom he stopped trying to understand. He did it for Bear. His was all they had, in terms of immediate family. There was Nan, and Pa, and Lorna, too. Even Uncle Travis and his new wife, but they lived overseas and never had much time. They existed over the holidays. But, Owen explained, they were adults, Christmas; although about family, was so much more important with little children in the house.
Owen was there somewhere, searching a seperate isle for something. Bear stuck to the LEGO, admiring the collection from a few steps away. His eyes kept wandering towards the large boxes on the bottom shelves. The big pieces. The expensive ones that took days to build and drove his father crazy. He could only obsessively covet some of those things, they were rare in his home - although spoiled - his father just could not afford them on a frequent, or repetitive basis.
He was listening to people around him, more than anything. His eyes scanning over the boxes as a staff member in the walkway behind him awkwardly tried to assist a customer. A grandmother tutted to herself about a present for her granddaughter, and a man called out for his stray child. He heard the click of heels approaching him on the tiled floor. Bear stepped aside, eyes still flicking over boxes of the constructible bricks.
Standing just to his right, the woman huffed. Out the corner of his eye he could see her biting on her fingernail, mouth pulled in confusion. He watched her, instead of daydreaming about LEGO. Her bright red hair pulled him in, Bear was trusting. Too trusting, his father always groaned. Maybe it was her easily read confusion towards LEGO that caused him to squeak out a soft ‘hello’. It was baffling to the six-year-old as to why anyone would be confused by LEGO. He had to know why.
The look on her face fluttered with worry as she turned to address the little voice that’d greeted her. A smile nipped at the corners of her mouth, relief flashing through blue eyes.
She stepped towards him slowly, cautious. Where Bear should have been scared of strangers, the woman in her high healed shoes seemed more scared than he would ever be. ‘You’re just the little helper I need.’ Bear grinned, flashing the red headed woman his missing two front teeth. ‘Kids your age like this stuff, right?’ He nodded his blond head enthusiastically, grin widening across his honey cheeks. She gave him a crooked, funny smile causing the boy to laugh at her easily. ‘What one would you pick?’ She asked him softly, crouching down to his height as to look into his olive green eyes.
Bear didn’t hesitate, his hand flying out to tap the glossy box he’d been admiring for a good fifteen minutes. He was talking, without thought, telling the woman about how he and his dad were so excited for the new set. It was on the top of their Christmas lists.
The woman pursed her lips, smile still present against her cheeks. She didn’t have time to say what she was clearly going to say, when a gruff voice half growled,’Can I help you?’ It was territorial, low, in the back of the man’s throat. The little boy only grinned, peering around the woman’s shoulder to smile shyly at the man behind her.
She stood, without hesitation, hand smoothing out the skirt she wore. ‘Sorry,’ She placed the man’s face immediately once she saw him, the boy beside her a carbon copy, only he stood at her hip, whereas his father was certainly a few inches taller than her. ‘He looked to be about my nephew’s age - thought he could help.’ She shrugged, smile faint, business face on. The man was large, bulky and tall. She was used to intimidating suits in conference rooms, lanky quiet men or loud beer bellies. They’d exercised their primal instinct to dominate her in the work place, and she knocked them down a few steps every time. But this, she was trapped between a man and his young child, the situation should only defuse itself with her stepping away.
‘Well then, you’d know about teaching kids stranger danger. And you,’ He pointed towards the boy, after the woman stepped out of his line of sight. ‘You know better’.
‘Honestly, it was my fault,’ She stepped in, ‘I’m useless with this stuff’. She rolled her wrist, indicating the wall. She’d put it off for so long; the trip to see her sister, her nephew’s gifts. And now it all hit her, the day before her flight. ‘Here; I’m Claire,’ she extended a hand. She was sure that there was no maternal bone in her body, she was awkward enough with her nephews, but she could at least understand the man’s security for his son. He blinked, slowly, watching the small grin expand across her face. She was flirting - she was flirting with him.
‘Owen,’ He took her hand, soft smile pushing past his lips. ‘And, Bear.’ He cringed at the slight flicker of humour in her eyes. It was a common reaction, but he would stick to his guns, despite what his mother said, what his siblings thought, and what preconceptions strangers developed. He was raising his son on his own, he named him Bear and no one could stop him.
‘Are you gonna get this one, Claire?’ Bear asked, shrugging his shoulders at formalities as he pulled the box off the shelf.
She couched down again, mindful of the soccer mom behind them and her wayward shopping cart. Claire took the box in her hands, examining it carefully. She hummed, ‘Should I?’ She was going to buy it, of course she was, she didn’t have time to deliberate the ins and outs of a gift. Regardless, she found herself humouring the sweet boy who’d spoken to her, when his father had taught him otherwise. Bear nodded, blond curls bouncing on his head.
The phone she was holding started to buzz obnoxiously as the boy handed over the box, tapping at the characters on the top, unnecessarily telling her who they were. She looked at the device, cringing at the caller ID before she forced an easy, awkward smile for the boy. ‘I really have to take this, but, thank you for your help, Bear.’ The boy sparkled a smile, pride beaming across his cheeks as Claire tucked the box under her arm, phone to her ear and walked away. She stopped at the escalators to turn her head over her shoulder, offering a small wave before she descended.
‘She was nice,’ Bear shrugged, turning his back on the escalators returning to his admiration of the wall of LEGO.
Tapping the boy on the shoulder, Owen rolled his eyes, ‘You’re in deep trouble, big guy’. Bear only shrugged again, small whine to his voice as he promised he was only helping. She certainly looked like she needed help.
*
The holidays passed without a hitch. Bear greedily dug into his gifts without remorse. His grandmother managed to smother him in affection, drowning him in delicious treats and hearty food. He relished in the holiday season, not just because it was Christmas and he was six-years-old, but that he basked in well placed attention.
Which was why he was sulking at his father’s kitchen counter, head in one hand while he drew lazy circles in his cornflakes. ‘Do I have to?’ He whined, and Owen could already see him dragging his feet down the sidewalk. They hadn’t even managed to lace his shoes yet.
‘Yes,’ Owen tapped his son on the head, laughing at his resistance. Bear didn’t argue anymore than that, he took the word as final, finished his breakfast, and ran off to find his school bag. That didn’t stop him from dragging his feet through the school gate, or staring back at his father with large puppy eyes. Owen waited, as he always did, standing by the school gate until the final morning bell was called. Bear knew he was there, knew that if he needed anything, if he was uncomfortable at all, his father would take him away. Although the boy bemoaned school in the morning, he always went gladly and returned with a happy smile.
It wasn’t every morning that Owen collected a coffee before work. He didn’t usually have time for the luxury, mostly running behind on schedule. With Bear back into a somewhat normal routine, they managed to leave the house on time.
His favourite coffee shop sat only a little ways before the city Zoo. They were a small, independent brew that rose from a street corner. With everyone rushing to the closest Starbucks preferring corporate coffee over home brewed, it was always quiet. Not enough that the business was doomed but enough to keep the place intimate. He’d known the owners and staff for years, enough that they knew his order the second he stepped through the door - and always had extra muffins for Bear.
The barista, Louise, smiled at him as he stepped in the door, bell ringing to announce a new customer. She nodded briskly, letting him know she’d make his order without his having to place it - or pay for it if he didn’t push them - despite the fact that there was a small line of about three people in front of him.
He waited, not that he had a choice, although they loved him there, Louise would not push his order in front of other customers. The woman in front of him seemed strikingly familiar. She smelt heavenly, vanilla lotion and something flowery - Jasmine? Gardenias? He wasn’t too sure, but it was pleasant none the less. He watched the shape of her legs, eyes tracing from the heel of her shoe up her smooth calves, clad in a black pencil skirt. It was her hair that triggered him, trimmed a little neater now, slopping off the roll of her shoulder. It was red, almost alive with the burnt fire of its colour. He was never one to forget a redhead who’d flirted with him.
‘How’d your nephew like the gift?’ He asked, leaning in to mutter it softly towards her ear. Too close, he gathered, when she jumped at the sound, ankle rolling awkwardly. She stumbled, almost fell, her hand flying out to brace herself against his chest. ‘Whoa there, tiger!’ Owen teased, one hand looping around her waist to hold her up.
Claire glared at him, blue eyes blazing as she corrected her balance and stood straight. Only after a second did her features soften, hands fattening out the crinkles on her shirt. ‘He loved it.’ Her smile was small, gratuitous, and slightly flighty. ‘Did …’ She paused, eyes wandering to her left trying to recall the little boy’s name, ‘… Bear have a good Christmas?’
Owen’s grin climbed up his cheeks, his head nodding. ‘Yeah, yeah, he did. Thanks for asking. And, hey, you remembered his name.’
‘It’s not every day that you meet little boy’s named Bear.’
Owen shrugged, ‘Sure it is. There’s like four of them in his class - even a little girl named Otter’. Claire raised an eyebrow in disbelief, which caused Owen to laugh, ‘I’m kidding. I’m pretty sure he’s the only one’. Claire fluttered another smile. He could tell she wanted to ask, wanted to know why he’d named his child after an animal. Usually he’d offer it up, spill out the dramatic story of the day his son was born, the day his girlfriend fled, and the Navy Marine who quit his job to stay with his tiny infant. Maybe, too, he’d been a little too tuned into Bear Grylls, but that he would never admit to anyone.
Louise called her name, handing her coffee over the counter. Claire took it thankfully, holding it in one hand as she started to say goodbye to Owen. ‘Hey, ah, maybe - maybe I’ll see you around?’ Owen asked, hesitantly, shifting the weight between his feet. Claire nodded, smile growing as she flicked her eyes down towards the screen of her phone. He’d met her twice now, and on both occasions she’d been distracted by the device. Owen irrationally hated it.
‘I’d really like that,’ She smiled, teeth biting into her lip, cheeks colouring softly. Owen blinked, staring at her as if she were a dream. A fiery haired siren prepared to drown him at all costs. She winked, as his heart flatlined. And with that, she stepped out the door.
*
‘What happened?’ Barry, his coworker asked, when Owen finally arrived at work, dazed look on his face. Owen shook his head, quickly brushing off a nothing to his friend. ‘That look doesn’t say nothing, Owen. Who is she?’ Owen stopped, his coffee hanging midway in the air, just above the table.
‘What makes you think there’s a she?’ Barry raised a brow, ‘Fine!’ Owen huffed. ‘We ran into her on Christmas Eve, she was looking for a gift for her nephew.’
‘We, as in you and Bear?’ Owen nodded, rolling his eyes a little. It wasn’t a secret that he kept his son from potential dates - which in the five years of Bear’s life, only calculated to one a year. He wasn’t interested, only partook in the blind dates to appease his friends. None of them were right, none of them seemed to click. It was never just a girlfriend he was looking for, but a potential mother for his son, too. No one wanted that - and that was evident before he even mentioned having a young son.
Owen couldn’t risk introducing Bear to someone would just up and leave him. It had to be for the long haul, or not at all.
He explained as much as he could, from the second he hear Bear utter a quiet hello to Claire’s flirtatious goodbye. Barry just laughed, tapping his friend on the shoulder as he announced something along the lines of being in too deep. There wasn’t time to discuss it, they had to make it to the rotunda for the morning staff meeting.
The group, just in front of them was the same as every morning bar three people. Three people dressed in flashy business attire rather than the laid-back zoo cargo the staff were required to wear. Two women. One man. Owen froze, only a few steps away from the congregated group. Claire. He cursed under his breath, of course it was Claire. She was standing next to the man Owen instantly recognised as Simon Masrani, the girl next to her, seemingly her assistant. Her eyes caught his and grew wide with surprise before she collected herself.
Barry tapped him on the arm, ‘That her?’ He mouthed, laugh drifting from his lips as he dragged his friend along. ‘You’re in trouble, man.’ Owen nodded slowly, watching the slight lines at the corners of her mouth and the humour in her eyes. At least she thought it was funny.
Simon Masrani explained with bountiful excitement why he was there. His company, Masrani Global, were going to endorse a banquet dinner right there, on zoo grounds. He wanted to open the gates after hours and let the city - if not the country’s elite through the doors. He wanted trainers to standby, guides to fact up, and for the best to be on display. The goal: to raise money for the zoo, that would in turn benefit the city. ‘Claire here will be overseeing the project, set for a few weeks time. If you have any questions, she’ll be at your service’. Owen grinned, catching her eye for the fourth time since he had joined the group.
Barry pulled him away, the two of them starting their days work once the meeting was over, Claire left behind. He expected that would be the last of it, that he might catch her once or twice before the banquet, and maybe in the morning at Lowery’s cafe. He, however, did not expect to hear her voice descending on the Lion’s Den.
A small viewing alcove had been set up outside the lion enclosure, they called it The Den, a few picnic tables, shaded seating, and a glorious view of his animals. It was one of Bear’s favourite spots in the whole zoo, a place they’d sit once Owen finished his closing duties, Bear working on his homework. The crew, on occasion, would find themselves eating dinner out there, pitching in, like a small village, to Bear’s life over the years. Seeing Claire approach the slight ramp was his last expectation.
She was talking to the woman who’d stood beside her that morning, taking notes as Claire pointed at this and that. ‘They got you working as party planner?’ Owen called out, smirk pulling at one side of his lips.
Claire stepped towards him slowly, something tantalising swaying in her hips. ‘If you must know, Mr Grady,’ She read his last name from the embroidery on his shirt. ‘I’ve been promoted to CEO of Masrani Global’s San Diego branch. This small task is only here for me to familiarise myself with the city and our assets.’
Owen whistled, long and low. ‘Impressive’.
Claire curtsied a little, ‘Glad you agree’.
Owen threw a look towards Barry, the man only a few steps behind him, in disbelief. Barry only rolled his eyes.
‘Let me get this straight,’ He started, later that afternoon once Claire had left and their zoo was free from Masrani Global. ‘She knows you have a kid and she’s still flirting with you?’ Owen shrugged, ‘No, see, I thought you were imagining it. But, in The Den, the tension was so thick I think the temperature rose’. Owen laughed, ‘Are you going to ask her out?’ Owen shook his head, explaining that he didn’t even know her last name let alone a point of contact. ‘At least we know she’ll be here for the banquet.’
*
Owen saw Claire again, before the banquet. More than once actually. He faded into the background just to watch her, rather than run head on into another collision. She was beautiful, he’d learnt that much the second he first saw her. Short red hair, blue eyes, pale skin - and likely the most adorable freckles he had ever seen on the bridge of someone’s nose.
He told himself that he wasn’t avoiding her. He was.
He knew animals better than people. He knew his own son better than animals, but there was no comparison to anyone else. He and Bear had been inseparable since the boy was born.
They were running late for school that morning, Owen half frantic as he drove down the laneway. They’d run out of bread, and milk, and school snacks - and eggs, if he was being honest. He didn’t know how he’d lost sight of the shopping, but he did and suddenly there was no food. Bear had to go to school, and there was no food.
And so, he’d driven them to Lowery’s in half panic, despite the fact that they weren’t going to be late at all. Lowery only rolled his eyes when they stepped through the front door, bell chiming happily as Bear passed under his father’s arm. ‘Daddy forgot to buy food again!’ He announced, letting that morning’s patrons know that he had failed, and not for the first time.
Bear ran off towards the counter, where Lowery promised to make him a sandwich, and told him to pick a muffin. Owen, however, was stopped by a slight giggle just to the right of the door. ‘Should have known you’d be here, today of all days.’ He huffed, catching sight of Claire sitting in the small reading nook, newspaper in her lap, mug in her hands.
‘He’s grown,’ Claire nodded towards the little boy who was hanging off the counter. Legs kicking up behind him to hit his backpack.
‘Kids do that,’ Owen shrugged, taking the seat opposite her.
Claire smiled slowly, ‘You’ve been avoiding me.’ She told him, nonchalant. Owen blinked. ‘Don’t think I can’t see you trying to shrink into walls, or duck behind sheds at the zoo. You’re not as slight as you think you are, Mr Grady.’ Owen shrugged, it was worth it. She simultaneously fascinated and frightened him. He needed to observe her before he could properly approach. ‘Hello, Bear.’ She turned her head away from Owen, greeting the little boy who appeared beside his father. He grinned, big open mouthed smile, teeth showing, top two teeth still missing.
‘Hi,’ He waved, shyly, sinking below the arm of his father’s chair. ‘We’re gonna be late for school,’ The boy mumbled, tapping on his father’s hand, fingers wrapping around his pinkie. He was playing shy, which for the first time; shocked Owen. He ruffled his son’s hair, smiling apologetically at Claire who only waved them off, encouraging the young boy to not be late.
‘She’s the lady from the shop,’ Bear announced as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, his Lowery made lunch in his hands.
‘Yes she is,’ Owen nodded, unable to quell the smile that grew across his cheeks, or the wink that skipped across his eye as he caught Claire in the cafe window. ‘Her name is Claire, is it alright if I see her from time to time?’ It had always just been them. Although Bear was a child, he would always as his opinion on things first. Bear nodded, leaning his back against his father’s truck once they reached it.
‘’S all right,’ The boy shrugged, nonchalant.
*
He stopped avoiding her after that. With Bear’s permission tucked under his belt Owen met Claire at Lowery’s almost every morning. He mostly arrived without Bear, the boy dropped to school on time, already well through his classes. It didn’t mean his habit of forgetting to shop for food ceased. Sometimes the boy was dragged along. They talked, like adults, which wasn’t all that unfamiliar to Owen, but still foreign outside of the zoo. He was used to talking to Bear, to Barry, his other co-workers, his mother and sister. He was not used to talking to beautiful women who held and interest in him as a human being.
They shared stories, experiences. She learnt that he and Bear surf, that he taught his son to play guitar, and their next adventure was fly fishing. They were nature boys. Hair slick with mud, braided with leaves, war paint stretched across their cheeks.
He learnt that she wouldn’t touch any of those things with a ten foot pole; usually. It now all seemed like a grand adventure, excited gleam glowing in her blue eyes. She signed contently when he told her about his little cabin in the woods, a vacation spot for he and Bear in the summer.
She admitted to being nervous around children, her own nephews included. Two boys, Owen learnt, one close in age to Bear, the other a little older. He told her he never noticed. Bear, who picked up on everything, never commented on her nervous energy. If anything, Bear loved to point out the honest traits in people.
As it turned out, the closer they got to the banquet, the more Claire sought him out. Often, he was wandering the perimeter of his lion’s enclosure, or hoisting up activities inside the glass walls while the animals were out for the vet. He waved at her through the glass, or called out ‘Hey Tiger,’ when he saw her on the path.
It wasn’t usual for her to be around on a Saturday afternoon. But she was there, standing beside Bear in the The Den, watching Owen through the glass. He grinned, waving at her enthusiastically. Claire fluttered a smile, arms crossed over her chest, hand in her phone. ‘Is he always like that?’ She asked the boy beside her, chuckling a little.
Bear looked up from his not book, eyes cast over to his father before fluttering towards Claire. ‘Like what?’
‘Goofy’.
Bear shrugged, ‘That’s just Dad’. Claire agreed that it certainly made her laugh. ‘Can you help me?’ He asked her softly, voice quiet as he tapped his pencil against his cheek. Claire blinked, her posture softening, arms slacking from her chest.
‘Ah,’ She started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, ‘I can try’. Bear watched her, head tilted back to study her face. He had a distinct feeling that Claire had never been wrong in her life. Her hesitancy was because of him. Because he was small or because she liked his dad, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t sway him either way. His math problems wouldn’t solve themselves, and he needed help with some.
She peered over his book, looking over his shoulder at the easy addition sums. It was basic math she could do in her head without so much as batting an eyelash. But she knew, with no real experience, that spouting the correct number to the boy wouldn’t exactly help him. Sure, he would have the answer, but how would he learn.
‘Can I borrow your pencil?’ She asked gently, accepting the instrument when the boy placed it in the palm of her hand. Claire was sitting next to Bear when Owen finished with the lion enclosure. They were both pouring over his notebook, set of equations in front of them. In a calm, even voice, Claire was explaining the boy’s math homework, easily. Owen listened to the numbers, to her explanation and quickly gathered that Bear had asked for help. Claire stepped up to the plate.
‘How’s everything coming along?’ He interrupted, enquiring into the banquet plans. Claire jumped, a little startled as she put a foot between herself and Bear. Owen rolled his eyes. He didn’t know where she came from in thinking that she was in trouble for helping. He dropped the bucket he was holding to the picnic table she and Bear were seated at, ruffling his son’s hair, and commenting on his mathematics. ‘Thanks for helping,’ He nodded, flashing her a thankful smile.
‘It was no trouble,’ Claire whispered, cheeks flushing. ‘I stopped in to clear a few details with your boss. The banquet’s set to run as planned. Numbers should be in tomorrow.’ Owen nodded, feigning interest. He was dying for the whole thing to be over, if he was being honest. It was nice to have Claire around - Owen certainly wondered what would happen to their routine once she no longer had to stop by the zoo. It was everything else that was driving him, and the other staff members mental.
Bear packed up his belongings as if on cue for what was next. Both adults watched him for a moment, books slid home into his Star Wars backpack before he turned to Claire. ‘You wanna come get lunch with us?’ Bear asked without checking with his father first. Claire recognised the chain of command, smiling politely at the little boy before looking towards his father. Owen nodded. She was more than welcome to join them.
*
‘What do you think?’ Owen asked, as he put a plate down in front of his son. Bear didn’t blink, eyes glued to the TV screen, entrapped in his tenth viewing of A New Hope. He knew there was fault in introducing the boy to Star Wars. Owen had created a monster out of his own son. ‘Bear,’ He called for his attention, ‘What do you think of Claire?’
Bear shrugged, he liked to shrug, it was a nasty habit he’d picked up from the playground that made Owen want to scream. ‘She talks to me like a grown up’.
‘Does that bother you?’
Bear shook his head, ‘Makes me feel like a grown up’. His scooped a spoon full of pasta into his mouth before adding something else; ‘I like her’.
*
The banquet was in full swing before anyone could blink. Claire was busy organising every inch of the night, so much so, Owen doesn’t see her until he lost his son.
It was likely too soon to demand the night a success. Regardless, every inch of the zoo grounds was teeming with unfamiliar faces, prospective investors, and one time; but large sum, donators. He was thirty-one, and even Owen found himself a little overwhelmed at the number of people and the look of the place. His zoo, his safe haven, had been turned into a five star restaurant complete with matching decor and a dance floor. He should have expected to loose Bear in the pandemonium, but had thought himself a better guard over his son than anyone else.
He tried not to worry. Bear practically grew up inside the zoo gates. If anything he’d find a familiar spot, like The Den, or the staff lounge, and wait for Owen to find him. At least, that’s what they had discussed, after the last time. Owen scrubbed his hand over his face, stubble tickling his palm as he exhaled in frustration. Of course. He couldn’t shout out, not with this many people around, his best bet was to just start looking.
Claire was talking to a bigwig investor. That was the point of the night. Throwing money at the zoo, and Claire mingling with potential future clients. Masrani wanted her to get to know the lay of the land. The zoo had been their opportunity. She was thrown off balance, mid sentence, something small and strong hurtling into her legs.
‘Bear?!’ It was undeniable, that the small blonde head, just below her hip was Bear Grady. His little arms wrapped around her legs, gripping on tight as he started to shake. The investor stepped away, eyebrow arched, disapproval playing across his face.
Claire stared down at Bear’s blond head. Hands hovering inches away from him, glass of wine in one. A sniffle escaped him, breaking past the fabric of her designer dress. Her heart stopped - her dress. He was crying on her dress. Claire Dearing was not world renowned for her ability to interact with children. She had found some ease with Bear, but even then, the fear caught in her throat about her dress almost over ruled the fear she should have had for the young boy.
She crouched, as best she could, glass of wine discarded on a nearby table as she wrapped her arms around Bear. She hugged him for a second, before prying his face from her clothes, begging him to tell her what was wrong.
His little cries were heart-wrenching, his honey face pink, his blue eyes shining like sapphires in contrast. ‘There - there’s too many people. I lost my dad.’ Claire tried to shush him gently, wiping the tears from his cheeks and pushing his unruly curls from his forehead. She straightened the waistcoat he wore, trying to flatten out the crinkles while she ignored the fact that he was wearing dark wash jeans to a formal event.
‘It’s all right,’ She hummed, wiping the fresh tears from his cheek, again. ‘Hey,’ She tapped his chin, trying to get Bear to crack a smile. ‘I’ll help you find him, he can’t be that far. You know, we could probably shout “loins aren’t the best animal in the zoo” and he’d jump right up from behind the table.’ Bear giggled, as a voice called out behind them;
‘Oi,’ His whole face transformed. Where he was lost and forlorn, he was suddenly hopeful and full of pure excitement. She spared a look over her shoulder, finding Owen only a few feet away, dressed almost exactly the same as his son. She wanted to roll her eyes at the jeans, and then roll them at herself; she should have expected the wardrobe. ’I heard that,’
‘See,’ Claire grinned, ‘Told you he’d turn up’. Bear raced past her, throwing himself into the arms of his father, as though he hadn’t seen the man in a year. Owen embraced Bear easily, catching him in a tight hug as he dropped a kiss to the top of his son’s scruffy head.
Claire rose, stretching slowly as her dress fell back into place. She could tell Owen was watching at the semi-tight fabric resettled. The dress was simple, all black, plunging neckline to the bottom of ribcage, a slit right up the tight. She could hear his words, flowing, unconstructed, barely strung together, as he tried to check over Bear, his eye more than likely caught on her dress. Claire grinned, satisfaction burning in her chest, chuckle tickling at her tongue.
‘God, I could kiss you’. Owen’s voice was suddenly a lot closer than she realised, his whisper loud in her ears. His shoulder brushed against hers, stepping closer to speak to her, voice trying to carry over the loud nose of rich chatter. Claire didn’t know if it was the dress or the gratitude. She had noticed the fading fear in his eyes once he’d found them. Ten minutes away from Bear, he was practically a drowning man.
Claire grinned, the smile almost devilish on her lips. ‘Why don’t you?’ His eyes flickered down to his son, clasping onto his hand tightly, determined to not let go, to not get lost again.
‘I’d much prefer to take you on a proper date first.’ The blush on his cheeks was real. He was embarrassed and out of practice. It’d been years since he needed to ask a girl out, let alone ask her out because he wanted to. He wondered briefly if Bear would have ask her for him, given some time. The boy managed rather well with timing. Claire, on more than one occasion, had joined them for lunch just because Bear had asked.
She hummed, dragging out the moment for a few seconds too long. Her nod was soft, her whisper of ‘okay’ was softer. They grinned at each other for what felt like eternity, neither of them stepping away or forward, until Bear yawned, long and loud, slight whimper clinging to the corner of his lips. Reminded of his son, and the late hour, let alone the still significant trauma of loosing him for an extended space of time, Owen snapped out of his daze.
‘I’ll call you,’ He promised, just as Zara tapped Claire on the shoulder, drawing her attention to another important guest.
Owen only managed to get a few steps away before Bear tore from his grip and ran towards Claire. He wrapped his arms around her legs for the second time that evening, squeezing hard as he wished her goodnight. Claire couldn’t help the flutter in her chest, as she bent to hug him in return, his words echoing on her lips.