After lunch Neal helped Gold down to the grass where he could lie out on a picnic blanket and read a book. Gold brushed the grass with his fingers, delighting in the way it smelled and the simple sensation of unfiltered sunlight on his face. He reached over to twist a blade of grass in his hand, enjoying its rubbery texture. The grass bore all the signs of spring. Farther out in the field he could see buttercups and crocuses.
He watched Neal and Killian playing. They were kicking around a miniature soccer ball. Neal stuck two sticks in the ground as goal posts and was trying to get little Killian to aim the ball and kick it between them. When Killian aimed correctly and got a goal Neal picked him up and spun him around, shouting triumphantly.
Gold remembered teaching Neal the same trick while coaching his peewee soccer team. He had a photo of it somewhere, featuring the two of them wearing matching soccer outfits, complete with ridiculously small shorts, because it was the 1980s. Where had the time gone? Looking at them now, Gold felt a sudden rush of ridiculous happiness and the bloom of love. Was it possible to feel all those fatherly feelings again so quickly when he'd only just met his grandson? Yet, look at the little boy rushing at his father with the ball, Gold knew he would do anything to protect Killian and help him find his way in the world. His heart nearly burst with pride and love for Neal, too, for getting his life back on track and for the obvious care and love he had for his boy.
I will get better, thought Gold suddenly, although he hadn't felt too sure of it before. Someday they'd all play together, Gold thought, no matter what he had to do to get there. Gold pictured it in his mind- him, Neal and Killian on the field together. The scene felt perfect. No, not quite perfect yet. He added another person to the image in his mind—him, Neal, Killian and Belle. Now it was perfect. And he closed his eyes and imagined Belle lying by his side on the picnic blanket, gently stroking his hair.
