🤦♂️
“What are you doing?”
“I’m waiting.”
“For what?”
Leo frowned up at Clara, annoyed at all the questions, before shrugging his shoulders and glancing down at the mini tool box by his feet.
“My dad. He said we were going to make birdhouses today.” He had been so excited. His father had been in a good mood yesterday. Recently promoted, he said. This’d bring in more money, he said. He had hugged his momma when he got home, and he even let him sit on his lap during TV time. It was nice. Having money was nice.
He said he’d meet him at home after work and they’d make birdhouses for the new robins that just hatched. He was only fifteen minutes late, but that was okay. Leo could wait.
“Well where is he?” Clara asked, choosing to crouch down to inspect the small hammer inside the box.
“He’s at work. He got promoted so he’s super busy.” Leo grinned with pride, crouching down to be at her level. Clara hummed disinterestedly before plopping down on the grass. “I’ll wait with you.” She said with a sort of finality Leo couldn’t seem to argue with. He huffed before taking a seat beside her, pulling out a dandelion and blowing at its seeds.
“Alright. He won’t be long though. He’ll be here soon.”
-
He wasn’t crying. He really wasn’t. There was just something in his eye.
The sun had set and he was cold, and hungry, and god, why didn’t he show up?
“He must’ve... must’ve got caught up at work.” Leo sniffled slightly before standing up, avoiding Clara’s gaze, mostly because he knew exactly what she must look like right now. Eyes wide and lips turned down. “I... I gotta go...” Before he could retreat back to his room, before he could lock his door and throw himself at his bed, a small hand grabbed his wrist, surprisingly firm for a child just nearing the age of nine.
“Come have dinner with us, Leo. I’m sure Papa and Mama miss you.”
It was an offer he didn’t realize he needed. He turned to her slowly, eyes red-rimmed and nose dripping with snot and tears. Pathetic. His father would have told him... Not Clara, though. Clara didn’t seem to mind. He stared at her for a few more seconds before nodding slowly.
“Is your mom making soup? I like her soup...”
She walked with him back to her house, and by the middle of it, Leo’s tears were gone, hand still firmly grasping hers as he listened to her stories about the cat that didn’t want to leave her and James alone. When her parents opened the door, Clara didn’t need to say anything. Mr. Somerset made them tea and Mrs. Somerset boiled soup, but not before hugging him tightly and asking him about his day... It was simple, and familiar, and they probably never knew, but the hug he received from both Clara’s parents healed the gash in his heart just enough for him to forget about the birdhouses that were never built.
