One day later, Gold found himself sitting on a picnic bench in the park across the street from Tamara's apartment, where she lived with Greg and Killian. He was waiting for Neal to return with Killian. The stuffed crocodile sat on the picnic table in front of him, clumsily wrapped in red and green Christmas paper because Gold's right hand was still in the cast and Christmas wrapping was all August had been able to find in the apartment. It would have to do.
"Is it your birthday Mister?" piped up a little voice nearby.
"No it is not my birthday," he said to the little scarf-wearing boy who'd asked the question. The child looked about five years old.
"Then why do you have a present?" asked the boy.
"I just do, that's all," said Gold, glowering at the young boy.
"Can I have it?" asked the boy.
"Certainly not," grumped Mr. Gold, hoping the boy would go away.
The boy came closer and cocked his head to one side, staring curiously. "Why does your leg have metal sticks coming out of it?"
"Because I'm really a robot," sneered Gold. "Satisfied?"
"No you're not," said the boy. "You're lying. Were you run over by a bus?"
"Didn't your mum ever tell you not to speak to strangers?"
"Strangers like you? Are you strange?"
"Yes," said Gold with the nasty grin he only reserved for other lawyers he attacked in court. "And getting stranger by the minute. Now please leave."
But the boy just stood there staring at him in the same exasperating fashion.
"Don't you have a mother or a babysitter somewhere…"
"Hey Dad!" Neal shouted at Gold from across the park and waved. Gold waved back. He squinted and saw that Neal was pushing a little dark haired boy in a stroller. As soon as they were on the grass, he unbuckled the boy and who bounded up and sprinted across the grass in the direction of the picnic table.
"Henry!" shouted a woman's voice across the park. "Henry where are you?"
"Over here Mom!" called the boy.
"Henry," said a tall, blonde haired woman in ared leather jacket who came from the swingsets. "How many times have I told you not to wander off. I stop for one second to check my phone and then poof you're just gone. Do you know how frightened I was?"
"But Mom, I met a robot! A robot!"
"Henry what are you talking about?"
Henry pointed at Gold.
The blonde blushed beet red as she caught his eye. "Oh sir, I'm so, so sorry. P-p-please don't take offense. He's just a little boy and doesn't really—"
"Then you ought to teach him better manners," said Gold stiffly.
"Oh hi, Anna," Neal greeted her as he jogged up. "Hi Henry."
"You know each other?" asked Gold suspiciously.
"Yes, Anna is my neighbor."
"That's great," said Gold, unenthusiastically. He pulled the present closer to him, not trusting this Henry or Anna one bit.
"Anna, this is my father, Ian Gold."
Gold gave her a small, unenthusiastic wave and she blushed an even darker red.
"Your- your father?"
"Killian? Killian? What the—he was just behind me-" Neal spun around frantically trying to find his son.
A high pitched child's giggle rang out from behind a tree. A small light brown face with a mop of black curly hair peeped out from behind the trunk.
"Oh, Killian there you are! I told you not to run away. Come here! I want you to meet someone."
"Like herding cats sometimes," Anna smiled sympathetically at Neal as she walked away holding Henry's hand.
Killian walked up to his Neal, dragging his feet shyly now that he saw the strange man sitting at the picnic table.
Neal put his hand around Killian's small shoulders. "I want you to meet my daddy, your grandfather, Ian Gold. Say hello, Killian."
Killian's eyes went wide for a second, before he darted behind his father's legs.
"Uh, hello Killian," said Gold nervously, clutching the present in front of him like a shield. "I'm, uh, Grandpa Gold." He felt like a ridiculous fraud calling himself anyone's grandpa. Suddenly, he realized how strange and foreign his accent might sound to the boy. No wonder he remained hidden. He probably couldn't understand a word he said. Gold forced himself to calm down, without further intimidating the boy. "I got you a present," he added in a sing song voice.
This piqued young Killian's interest. The boy peeked out cautiously from behind his father. Neal gave him a gentle nudge forward as Gold held out the gift.
Then Gold got a good look at his very first grandson for the very first time in his life. Although he was indeed small for his age, he didn't appear as fragile as Gold thought he would be. He had intelligent brown eyes just like Neal's and there was a definite touch of impish mischief in those eyes, Gold could tell. Neal had looked the same when he was younger, although Gold just hoped Killian didn't put Neal through as many paces as Neal had put him through in his teenage years.
Hesitating no more, Killian pounced on the present and sat down to tear the paper apart.
Had he not known to look for it, Gold doubted he would have noticed Killian's missing left hand right away. It just looked like the sleeve of his jacket was a little long on one side.
Gold had apparently done a more thorough job of taping the paper than he'd thought, because now Killian had the gift in his mouth, biting at the tape trying to get it off.
"Here, Killian, let me help you with that," suggested Neal.
"No!" cried Killian moving out of his father's reach. "I do it myself!"
"He can't break it that way can he?" Neal whispered to Gold.
"What? No, it's just a stuffed toy," said Gold. "He can do whatever he wants to it."
"He has a prosthesis Tamara is trying to get him to wear, but I usually let him leave it off," admitted Neal as Killian finally wrestled the toy from the wrapper. "He doesn't complain, but I think it's uncomfortable for him."
The small boy sat back on his haunches to regard his new stuffed animal. It was an awesome sight to his eyes, about half the size he was. He'd never had anything like it before. He had plenty of bears and a dog and a blue rabbit, but never this kind of animal, never anything so large. "What—what is it?" he asked in awe.
"A crocodile," said Gold. "See?" he pointed to the stuff toy's triangular felt teeth.
Killian looked up solemnly at Gold and nodded. "Cro-ca-doll."
"Crocodile," said Gold gently. "Can you say it like me?"
"Croco- dile," repeated Killian. "Like you?"
"That's right," said Gold, trying to be encouraging. "Like me."
"CROCODILE! Yah!" yelled Killian, pleased to get the hang of it. Then Killian jumped on top of the stuffed animal and proceeded to ride it around the picnic area like a pony.
"Wait! Killian, what do you say?" asked Neal.
"Thanks Crocodile!" yelled Killian over his shoulder.
Gold caught Neal's eye. His son was making a funny expression like he'd burst out laughing at any moment.
"What's so funny?" Gold asked him.
"Dad, I think he thinks that's your name!" said Neal and exploded with laughter.