Gordon stomped through the park, grumbling furiously under his breath.
That was a rotten day if he ever saw one. He couldn't believe he lost to Frank Huddy of all people. The man was never going to let him forget, that was for sure. He was probably still at the office now, bragging to anyone that was around.
"I need a drink," he muttered to himself.
Something strong. Something to take away the image of Huddy's pleased grin from Gordon's memory.
Gordon jumped back a little, snapping back to reality when a kid came out of nowhere. If he hadn't been paying attention, he would've knocked him over. Unfortunately for the kid, that was the last spark that lit his temper.
"What's the matter with you?" He hollered. The boy whimpered. "Didn't your parents ever tell you to watch where you're going?" He growled. He hated kids. They were barely human. All they did was whine and drool. Gordon swept past the kid, only halting when he heard a shaky voice call out to him.
"I can't find my mommy."
Shutting his eyes, huffing through his nose, Gordon was fed up already. Great. Another lousy parent who couldn't take care of their devil spawn and now he had to find them. Great. Just great. This was exactly what he was in the mood for.
And it wasn't like there was anyone else to take care of this. Even if there was, he'd probably be looked at as some kind of jerk for not wanting to help.
"This day just keeps getting better and better," he said bitterly. Glaring down at the kid, he said, "Well, where's the last place you saw her?"
"I...I don't know," the boy whispered. "I was chasing the butterfly..."
Great.
"That does a lot of good!" Gordon snapped again.
The boy started to sniffle, rubbing his fists on his eyes. "I want my mommy."
"Then you shouldn't have run away, now should you?" Gordon muttered. Taking a deep breath-because the last thing he needed was to be accused of screaming at a random kid in the park, which Huddy would gleefully use to his advantage- he asked, "What's your name, kid?"
"Charlie," the boy had tears brimming in his eyes.
Gordon did not do well with crying...anybody. He never had. "Uh, well, I'm Gordon," he said awkwardly. He'd never really spent time with kids either. He had no siblings which meant no nieces or nephews, never did any babysitting and never had a reason to be in a situation where it was one-on-one with them. "Look, uh, I'll help you find your mom."
Gordon cringed when Charlie wiped his snotty nose on his shirt sleeve. Kids were disgusting . Turning teary eyes upwards to him, the boy said, "You will?"
"Sure." Resigned to his fate, Gordon gave the park a once over in search of a frantic mother. There was none. Either Charlie ran away or he had a neglectful parent. Fantastic.
"Thank you," Charlie whispered.
"Yeah, yeah," Gordon didn't know what to do next, so he ruffled the boy's hair with his palm. His dad used to do that to him and Charlie didn't seem to mind.
They began to walk aimlessly. He really didn't have any sort of idea where Charlie had come from. He hadn't been paying attention before nearly running him over.
"Are you from here?" Gordon tried. "Do you live nearby?"
Charlie nodded. That was all he did.
Praying for some strength, Gordon tried again. "Where do you live?"
"I can't tell you," Charlie shook his head.
"Why not?" Gordon couldn't hide the annoyance from his voice this time.
"You're a stranger."
"But I'm a good stranger," Gordon pointed out. "I'm helping you, aren't I?"
Charlie looked stumped by that reasoning.
"Just come on," Gordon sighed when he didn't move. They'd be there all day at this rate. He started to walk again and heard Charlie hurrying to catch up to him.
He wondered why no one was looking for the kid. Unless he was further away from his house than Gordon originally assumed.
"So, uh, how old are you?"
Charlie was not going to tell him. The stranger thing, right. The boy's lips thinned out, stubbornly turning his head away.
"I'll tell you how old I am," Gordon said coaxingly. If he needed to tell the police about this, it would have been helpful to have his age.
This made Charlie glance up at him. "Are you forty?" He asked.
"Forty?" Gordon spluttered. "I'm not even thirty yet!"
"Really?" Charlie was not convinced.
Gordon couldn't say what he was thinking, not if he wanted to spare himself the waterworks. He could only glare at the kid.
They came to a crosswalk; Gordon wasn't expecting Charlie to grab his hand-were kids hands always this tiny?
"What are you doing?" Gordon asked stiffly.
"Mommy says I have to take her hand when we cross the street," Charlie said, gripping Gordon's hand as tight as he could.
They weren't really crossing the street per se; it was still within the park But that probably didn't matter to Charlie. He saw it as all the same.
"Is your dad around or is he working?"
He frowned when Charlie lowered his eyes.
"I don't have a daddy."
The annoyance he'd felt was sucked right out of him. He stared down at Charlie.
Nice going , Gordon thought to himself. "Oh, uh, sorry. Did he die?"
"I don't know," Charlie was sad. "Mommy never said. I wish I had a daddy. Jesse has a daddy and so does Connie. I want one too."
Gordon was actually feeling for the kid. It was almost unbelievable. But he remembered those days shortly after his own dad died; those days of envy burning through him when he thought of his friends- former friends , he corrected himself. He hadn't had any friends for a long time-whose dads were still alive.
At least he had some memories with his dad. At least he remembered him. By the sound of it, he guessed something must have happened between Charlie's mother and his father. Not anything good if she was refusing to speak of him.
Gordon stopped. He didn't know why, but he got down on his knees, not even minding the fact that he was ruining his work pants, ensuring that he was making eye contact with Charlie. "I don't have one either."
Charlie's big brown eyes widened. "You don't?"
"No," Gordon's chest ached as it always did when he thought of his late father. "He died when I was a bit older than you."
"Were you sad?"
Sad didn't even begin to describe that dark period of his life. He'd been overcome with grief, but he tried his hardest to keep it hidden from his mother. She'd been struggling too; with his dad's passing, the bills that piled up, knowing she needed to get out there and back to work. He didn't want her to worry about him on top of all that.
"I was very sad," Gordon admitted.
"Oh," Charlie said softly. "Are you better now?"
Gordon swallowed the lump in his throat. He would never be better . It was easier to deal with now, but he would always feel that ache. Of course, he couldn't really tell a child that and expect him to understand. "Mostly," he nodded.
"Oh, Charlie!"
Both of them turned their heads. Charlie's face lit up and he screeched, " Mommy! "
The woman dropped to her knees as he leaped into her arms. She hugged the boy tightly, one hand on the back of his head. Gordon slowly rose to his feet, his breath taken away when he finally looked at her.
The woman was gorgeous . Maybe he shouldn't be thinking like that at a time like this, but he couldn't help it.
Holding her son at arms length, the woman said, "I was so worried ! Why did you do that, Charlie? I told you, you're not supposed to walk off like that."
"I was chasing the butterfly," Charlie said remorsefully. "I'm sorry, Mommy."
The woman hugged him once more. "I'm just glad you're okay."
"He helped me find you," Charlie removed his face from his mother's shoulder, pointing to Gordon.
Peeking above her son's head, she finally seemed to notice Gordon, who had been standing off to the side. She straightened up, meeting his eyes. "Thank you for helping my son. I really appreciate it."
"It's no problem," Gordon managed to say when he was able to speak again. "I'm uh, Gordon."
"Casey," she introduced herself with a slightly shy smile.
The two maintained eye contact and slight smiles until Charlie broke the silence.
"Do you like him, Mommy? Jesse's daddy looks at his mommy like that."
Casey looked mortified. "I'm so sorry . I-"
"It's okay," Gordon assured her. "Don't worry about it."
She nodded, her face still a faint pink. "I hope he wasn't any trouble for you."
"He wasn't," he told her and then had to admit, "He's a good kid."
"Thank you," she seemed pleased by this. Glancing down at her son, who was fiddling with the end of her jacket, she said, "Well, we'd better get going. Thank you again."
"Wait!" He called to her. She turned back eyebrows furrowed. "Would you want to get a coffee or something?"
She was surprised. "I'd like that."