The rays from the early evening sun was still drenching the back garden in light and Claire perched up on the toes of her bare feet to plant a quick kiss on Owen's lips, a yelp sounding from the back of her throat as he gave her ass an affectionate slap, and she grinned as she parted from him. Their son had already ran off into the house the moment his mother had told him he needed to have a bath before dinner. "See you in a bit" Claire said to her boyfriend, who shot her a wink and a grin as he stepped over to the large BBQ beside him and began lighting it. Claire stepped down off the pavilion and walked across the soft green grass of their back lawn towards their house. As she approached the wooden porch she bent over to pick up her pristine white heels from the bottom step, and let out a small giggle as she heard Owen wolf whistle at her from his position on the pavilion. She shook her head slightly as she pattered her way up the wooden steps and along the patio, taking a quick glance back at him, noticing him watching her as she approached the back door of the house.
The silent house behind her was suddenly disturbed by a little voice that echoed loudly from the foot of the staircase through to the kitchen, "aaaaaahhhhhhhh!" and Claire turned to see her noisy son stop in the middle of the kitchen with an excitable grin on his mucky face. She couldn't help but let out a giggle as she noticed Nathaniel had stripped so he was in nothing more than his underwear, "Mommy I'm ready for my bath!"
"So I see" the red head replied, her fingers still gripping her heels, "go on then" and she watched as her son jumped excitably, turned on his bare feet, and ran full speed out of the kitchen towards the staircase yelling "I'll race you!" It was all about racing with Nathaniel. Christmas last year had been when the racing started.
The sun was raging down on Isla Nublar but the Christmas music still echoed around the house. Claire was stood in the kitchen with her sister Karen, Owen's mother Elizabeth, and Owen's sister-in-law Emma. The four women were smiling at each other while they overheard their respective partners out on the back porch trying to get Nathaniel to put his little trainers on, "Come on son, just put your trainers on then we can go for a walk" Claire heard Owen plead with the two year old , and she peered out of the open kitchen door out onto the porch where her son stood with his arms folded and his back to the house, looking up at his father, his two uncles, and his grandfather. All the men looked down at the little rascal, running out of suggestions on how to possibly get him to put his trainers on. Claire grinned, knowing that her son hated wearing anything on his feet. The only days he really had to wear shoes was when he was out of the house on a Monday when he went to playschool, a Thursday when she took him into work with her, or a Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday when Owen took him into work with him. The rest of the time Nathaniel's parents let him run around in bare feet. Claire & Owen had had that routine in place from the moment Claire had returned to work full time when Nathaniel had only been four months old. It may be Christmas Day, but the littlest Grady wasn't stupid. He knew that yesterday had been Friday, the last day that he had to accompany his father into work, the last day of the week that he had to wear shoes.
"No! No shoes!" the two year old piped up. The men stood in front of him sighed, their patience being seriously tested, much to the amusement of the women stood in the kitchen. Nathaniel was the first grandchild for Owen's parents, and he was adored by all members of the Grady family, which meant he got away with a lot whenever he saw them. But Owen wanted to take everyone to the raptor paddock this afternoon to introduce them to Blue, who he had of course told them so much about, and going there meant that Nate Grady needed to put his shoes on.
"Nate if you don't put your shoes on you won't be able to go with us to Daddy's work" Jim, Owen's father, said kindly with a hint of desperation in his voice. Claire watched the older man crouch down to his grandson's level, but the blonde boy shook his head, tightening his crossed arms.
"Come on Nate, I really want to see Daddy's dinosaur!" Owen's brother begged, making his voice extra winey, hoping that it would be enough to make the young Grady back down and agree to put his trainers on. But Nathaniel still stood stubbornly in front of his trainers, refusing to put them on. Jim stood up straight with a sigh.
After a long pause, the final male adult stood in front of Nathaniel slipped his own trainers off and pushed them in front of himself, opposite the little boy's trainers. The two year old looked down at the trainers, then up at the trainer's owner, Karen's fiancé Michael. Karen had met Michael at a friend's party four weeks after her divorce had been finalised. Now almost three years on and here they were, celebrating Christmas together just off the coast of Costa Rica with Karen's only remaining blood family member other than her two sons, who were both spending Christmas with their father this year. The moment Claire had met him she immediately liked him. He was far better for her older sister than her ex-husband had been. And the moment Michael had met Owen the two men had hit it off, much to the sister's delight. Nathaniel had never known a time when his Uncle Mike hadn't been around, having only been two months old when he had first met him.
"Okay Nate, how about I race you?" Claire heard Michael say to her son, and it appeared to have caught the little boy's attention as Nathaniel had dropped his arms to his side curiously. "First one to get his trainers on wins. Ready…steady…" but before the man could say 'go' the two year old had dashed down, grabbed his trainers, and began stuffing them on his feet, pulling at the Velcro fastenings while Michael pretended to really struggle to get his own trainers on.
Claire looked over at Karen who was busy watching the scene with a smile on her face. Nathaniel squealed in excitement as he stood up with his trainers on his feet, and Michael pretended to groan in disappointment. "I win I win!" she heard her son exclaim as he held his arms up in the air in celebration. The men cheered the little boy, high fiving him in turn, and the women in the kitchen laughed.
Claire made her way from the bathroom, having begun running her son's bath, through to his bedroom. She picked up his filthy clothes from the busy day he had had with his father, groaning slightly as she realised just how muddy they were. They were going to be a nightmare to wash, especially as there was one particular stain on one knee of his little cargo pants that looked suspiciously like raptor poo. Claire made her way out of her son's bedroom, placing the clothes in first of two wash baskets. One was specially designed to keep the smell of any clothes within it from seeping out into the house. That was for Owen's clothes. The other basket was for hers. The parents decided which basket their son's clothes went in based on the state his clothes were in. Today they would be going in Owen's basket. Claire looked down at her own clothes. They would have to go in Owen's basket too. With a tired sigh she walked through to her bedroom to see her son crossed legged on the floor by the dresser, looking at one of his storybooks that he must have left there from the night before. Yes he was always active, and yes he was very adventurous, a lot like Owen had been as a child according to Elizabeth, but Nathaniel also loved reading books, just like she had done as a child. Their son was the perfect mix of both of them.
Claire pulled her clothes off, chucked her bath robe on, and wrapped her filthy clothes in a small ball. She walked back through to the bathroom, placing the clothes in Owen's wash basket on the way, listening to her son talk to himself as he pretended to read his book in the other room. She yawned, leaning over the bath to test the temperature of the shallow water. Just right. She called her son and heard his little voice yell that he was coming followed by the sound of his footsteps thundering through to her. He'd taken his little pants off already and clambered into the bath enthusiastically, "Slow down" Claire found herself saying automatically, though she smiled as his little naked bottom disappeared under the water. He immediately took a handful of bubbles, scooping them up and clapping his hands together. The bubbles flew up into the air landing on his head, face and all around him. The bubbles also landed in Claire's hair and she let out a pretend yelp as though it had taken her by surprise, which Nathaniel found hilarious.
Twenty minutes later, the bath water had gone cold, the bubbles were almost gone and every bath toy Nathaniel Grady owned had been played with. The little boy was soaked from head to foot, most of the mud on his skin having seeped off his body and into the bath water. Claire stood up, turned on the shower, and her son quickly stood up in the bath. She took her bath robe off, checked the temperature of the shower water, and then plucked her son out of the bath letting him run over to the shower cubicle. He jumped into the shower, closely followed by his mother. Claire grabbed for his little shampoo bottle and quickly washed his hair whilst Nathaniel tried to grab the shower water in his mouth. Using the same bottle she washed her own hair, before quickly scrubbing her body down with shower gel, then quickly trying to scrub the last remnants of dirt off her little boy. Claire and Owen had both discovered the only way they could wash their son's hair was if he joined one of them in the shower, so it had become part of their routine that on the days Claire didn't see Nathaniel during the day due to work commitments, she would bath and shower him before dinner, and on Thursday's when Claire took him to work or Sunday's when she had a day off Owen would bath and shower him before dinner.
Claire turned the shower off and her son's face dropped, "Come on, the sooner we get dry and dressed the sooner we can go down and help Daddy cook the fish you caught." She knew all the right things to say, and the almost-three year old's face lit up immediately, remembering that he had 'caught' the dinner. So all she heard for the next ten minutes while she tried to get her little boy dressed was her son chatting away about how he had caught the fish, and how he was a good helper, and how he was excited to go to Mommy's work tomorrow because it meant they had smoothies for lunch. As his head popped up through the top of his pyjama top, and he stuffed his arms through the arm holes, he said something that had caught Claire completely off-guard, "Thank you for picking me Mommy."
Claire smiled, furrowing her brow slightly as she knelt in front of him and pulled her son's t-shirt over his little belly, "What do you mean pick you?" and she watched the little boy before her rocking from side to side as he looked up at the ceiling then back to her seriously with his big green eyes, "When you and Daddy picked me at the baby store and took me home."
It was the sweetest thing she had ever heard. Claire's smile broadened at her son's words. If only it had been that simple. She wouldn't have had to deal with The Board of Directors who had initially tried to get her to step down as Chief Manager of Jurassic World. And they had tried for a couple of years after she had given birth too. It was only until the beginning of this year when several media outlets discovered that Claire and Owen had had a child on the island that The Board realised what an opportunity it was for the park's promotion, and so Claire was no longer being pressured to step down but rather step-up the media campaign. Something that she and Owen had spent a long time discussing when it had first been suggested. In the end they had decided that the odd interview or photoshoot here or there would be okay, as long as it was done under their terms. Claire was getting the feeling she would step-down sometime soon though. Perhaps in a couple of years' time when her son was reaching school age? For now though she seemed to have got her work and home life balanced in her favour, and it didn't seem to affect the park, nor her little family here. Nathaniel was growing up well and it had already been mentioned to both Claire and Owen just how clever their son was. There was a pre-school on the island that the children of Isla Nublar attended. Most were a little older than her son, but there were a couple of new-borns in the area making Nathaniel no longer the youngest child on the island. However, he still held the title of being the first human to be born on the island. Nathaniel, having always been surrounded by adults and older children, was very confident and could read body-language well, and Owen had been told by the pre-school teacher that it wouldn't be long until the little boy could read a small book.
"Well, Daddy and I didn't pick you. You picked us" said Claire, trying to run a small brush gently through her son's blonde hair, which he tolerated, "And we're so happy that you did." Claire leant forward and gave her little boy a noisy kiss on the cheek which he giggled at before launching into her arms. She wrapped her arms under his pyjama-clad bottom as she felt his arms wrap around her neck and she closed her eyes, letting out a little giggle as he squeezed her tight. Her heart felt so full of love for her son that she could never put into words how much she loved him. And seeing how much he looked like Owen filled her heart with joy. Her boyfriend was the perfect father. She always knew he would be. Seeing him with Nathaniel sometimes made her stomach do a back-flip.
Twenty minutes later and Claire was dressed in some white linen trousers and a dark green strappy top. She watched her son fly down the staircase, eager to join his father on the pavilion, but she paused as she reached the lounge, looking over at the coffee table. Claire slowly walked over to it and let out a soft smile as she noticed a magazine that hadn't been on the coffee table that morning when she had left the house for work. It was the latest copy of Vogue Magazine. And on the front cover Claire saw a photo of herself standing in the very lounge she was stood in now, with the caption "CLAIRE DEARING – the woman running the world's most successful theme park talks work, love, and motherhood."