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Part 2 of Full Circle
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2018-12-06
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2023-11-28
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47/47
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Chapter 16: The Power of Words

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The Power of Words

The first time Owen volunteered at the school, he hadn't really known what he was getting into. Maisie had come home with a piece of paper detailing some science activity day the school was having, and, at the bottom, there was a request for parent volunteers. He didn't even notice it, to be honest. But Claire had commented on it when she'd read over the paper, saying, with a bit of a wistfulness, that she wished she could volunteer. It wasn't something Owen actually had any interest in doing. He wasn't going to say anything, but Maisie had asked Claire about it, and then she had sounded a bit sad that Claire wasn't going to be able to attend. He heard himself volunteering before he had even thought it through.

It hadn't been as bad as he'd been expecting. And Maisie had seem delighted to know that he was going to be at her school all afternoon. He hadn't actually seen her all that much, as they'd had the parent volunteers helping to run various activity stations around the school. The volunteers more or less interacted with the entire student population over the afternoon, as they came by in small groups. To his relief, the kids at the school, unlike their parents, didn't look at him and immediately think dinosaurs or raptor trainer. He was just another adult.

He'd never been in a position where he was continually referred to as Mr. Grady before. In fact, he generally associated it with Claire, from back on Isla Nublar. It had been her way of trying to force distance between them and remind him of his place. It had rankled him, whenever she did this. He hadn't wanted the distance and he hadn't wanted the forced professionalism. He'd been trying to break down her walls from the moment he'd met her. Every time she'd say it, he would push back, trying to get under her skin a little more, saying something flirtatious or mildly inappropriate. He didn't get it at the time – hadn't understood the world that Claire lived in versus the one he did. Hadn't understood how his actions would be perceived by someone who had spent their entire career being thought less of and underestimated, just because of their gender. Hadn't seen that his actions would be viewed as more of the same. And that he was actually just making himself less desirable with every word.

It had taken the fallout from Jurassic World for him to understand. To finally see it. To watch as others did what he had done countless times before. And then to watch as Claire would straighten her shoulders, stand up taller, paste on a smile and act with extreme professionalism in response. He'd apologized. And then he'd apologized again. She'd brushed it aside, saying the past was the past.

Claire still called him Mr. Grady. Usually when she was frustrated or angry with him. But not always. While he still associated it with her, it was no longer wrapped up in bad memories. He knew they both viewed it differently now. This made listening to all the kids at the school call him Mr. Grady feel odd. It also made him feel old, in a way that Claire's use of the phrasing never did. He wanted to say "Owen's fine," but all the other parents were going by Mrs. or Mr. Smith and he was following their lead. He didn't want to rock the boat, not when he was already feeling out of place, something he was not used to or comfortable with.

What threw him off more was the first time he heard someone say "that's Maisie's dad." It hadn't registered for a moment that they were referring to him. But then he heard it again. And multiple more times throughout the afternoon. It was the first time he ever heard anyone call him her dad.

Owen had been careful with his wording, always referring to Claire as "Claire" in Maisie's presence (like "Go ask Claire"). On the few occasions he had to define the relationship between him or Claire and Maisie, he defaulted to guardians. For a while, it was simply because it hadn't felt like they'd had her long enough to call themselves her parents and that it was a title they didn't have the right to bestow upon themselves. Then, after a while, it just became habit.

But that afternoon, everytime it was mentioned, his head would swing around, trying to see who was saying it, and if Maisie was there. She wasn't. He wasn't sure if he was glad or not. Not sure what her reaction would be to hearing that.

It startled him the first few times, but by the end of the afternoon, it had felt natural. Dad. Wow. Now that was a term he never expected to hear anyone use to refer to him. He wasn't against having kids, per se, it was more that he had always been indifferent to the idea. When his twenties and then most of his thirties went by without it happening, he just figured it wasn't meant to be.

The only time it had seriously crossed his mind, was during a short period after Jurassic World. Not immediately, there was too much else going on at the time to ever consider something as life changing as having kids. But later, as the news around the incident died down, and it felt like they had been moving forward and away from it. When he thought that he and Claire were going to last.

They'd never talked about it. At least, never more than in passing, and usually only in response to some comment or prod by Karen or their parents. Never in any sort of actionable or real way. In fact, it was something that hit him, in the days directly after the incident at Lockwood Estate. Here they were, thrust back at each other, and now with a kid pushed into the equation. It hadn't been clear what they should do. Maisie had been reluctant to let him out of her sight. And he had been reluctant to let Claire out of his. But, to start up a relationship again, after another traumatic experience, and to bring in a kid? When he didn't actually know where Claire stood on the concept of being a parent? It had been overwhelming.

He hadn't been surprised when Claire took the lead. He wasn't a follower by nature, but it was easy to follow Claire during that time. She always seemed to know exactly what to say, who to speak to, and what decisions were the most important to focus on. When she started talking about keeping Maisie with them, he'd just nodded in agreement, although he'd been unsure how it would even be possible. And then he'd watched in awe as she made it happen. He really needed to stop underestimating her.

And then, things had just sort of clicked into place. That's not to say it was easy. Being a parent (or guardian) wasn't. And the first couple of months squashed into Claire's small condo as they all got to know each other had been rough. But there had been a lot more good moments than bad ones. As every day and then every week passed by, they all got a little more comfortable, and a little more relaxed. And soon it felt less like they were trying to be a family, and more that they just were.

When his afternoon of volunteering had come to an end, and as he'd walked home with Maisie, he found himself watching her interactions with her classmates. He'd never really paid attention to any of it before, to who she said good-bye to or who she passed by without a comment. He was trying to pick out the students who had referred to him as Maisie's dad. Were they her friends? Had they picked that up from her?

He'd realized, later, that he was overthinking it. That the kids were most likely just assuming he had to be her dad. And probably equally assumed that Claire was her mom. That it was just what most kids knew and expected. The realization had been a bit of a letdown, as he'd realized he had been getting his hopes up, that Maisie had been the one to initiate it. That maybe she had been ready to move them forward. He was glad he'd never said anything to Claire about it, sure she would've caught on to the truth right away. He'd enjoyed the small amount of time he'd been able to just believe.

At a parent teacher conference not long after that day, Mrs. Stevenson had informed him that it had been so great to have him volunteer. That it was tough to get dads into the school for activities like that, and yet it was so important for the kids to see more than just moms represented. And that she hoped he'd be able to volunteer again.

He hadn't missed the proud look that crossed Claire's face, and he'd definitely been rewarded for that comment later that night. He knew part of it was Claire's fear that they didn't know what they were doing and were screwing everything up, and to hear someone else, someone who had seen good parents and bad parents, comment on something they'd done well, carried more weight than anything he could ever say to reassure her.

So, the next time an opportunity to volunteer came up, he put in his name. Soon it was just a given that if they needed a volunteer, he was one they could count on. One of the "regulars." Another thing he'd never expected to happen in his life, but he wasn't about to complain. Well, not usually, there had been one field trip he wished he hadn't been on.

And now, he was back at the school for some sort of sports day. The school yard had been divided into various areas, with mini activities happening wherever you looked. The biggest, the one he was involved with, was a giant obstacle course that took over most of the soccer field. He, along with a mix of other parents and teachers, were patrolling the course, calling out fouls and sending kids back to the start. He was actually surprised how tough the course was, there had been only a few kids so far who had made it all the way to the end. However, it was definitely the most popular activity, if the line of waiting students eager to give it a try, was any indication.

"Owen!"

He turned at his name, seeing Maisie on the course, just a few obstacles away from him. He gave her a quick wave, watching her progress. She was a naturally athletic kid, whose skills were only improved by her enthusiasm and daredevil qualities. He'd taken her to a climbing gym a few times, watching in awe as she practically flew up the wall, no fear at all. He was expecting her to do well on the obstacle course. And she was, easily hopping across her current obstacle, before waiting for the next. They were trying to spread the kids out, but invariably a few of the slower obstacles resulted in small bottlenecks.

He turned his attention back to the obstacle in front of him, watching the next few kids attempt it, sending a couple of them back to the start. It wasn't long before Maisie was next in line at his, and he cheered her along, giving her a high five when she successfully made it to the end. He turned back, watching as the next kid, Alissa if he remembered her name right, one of Maisie's classmates, also successfully completed it. He gave her a high five as well.

Owen had just stepped away from them, when he heard it, the words causing a falter in his step.

"Why do you call him Owen?"

He slowed down his pace, motioning for the next kid to start, while he mostly paid attention to the words being spoken behind him.

"That's his name," Maisie replied.

"But he's your dad…"

Owen spared a quick glance over his shoulder, wanting to see Maisie's reaction to that. It wasn't her reaction but her words, that felt like a knife through the heart.

"He's not my dad."

He wasn't sure why he was expecting a different answer. Or what he had thought she was going to say. But for a moment, his vision tunneled and he swallowed hard, trying to regain his focus.

"Can I go?"

The words were the distraction he needed, Owen turning back to the line for his obstacle, realizing he'd forgotten to signal the next kid to start. He quickly waved them forward.

x x x

When Owen finally escaped out to the garage that evening, he was patting himself on the back for managing to keep it together. That he'd survived the rest of the afternoon at the school and the walk home with Maisie. He'd cooked dinner on autopilot, and then nodded and commented as appropriate, letting Maisie give Claire the rundown of how the day went as they ate. He had used the excuse of mowing the lawn to get outside after dinner, while Claire helped Maisie with some homework.

After he'd mowed, which really didn't take long, he had puttered around, watering the garden and trying to come up with other random tasks to do outside. Eventually, he'd given up, and just went into the garage. A new part for his motorcycle had come in the other day, and it was easy to get lost in the process of disassembling the old piece and then fitting in the new. The sounds of the wrench ratcheting, the feel of the grease on his hands, the smell of the new car (okay, motorcycle) part, all worked together as a balm to calm his mind and help him settle.

He knew he had technically nothing to be upset over. He wasn't Maisie's dad. Well, not her biological one, anyway. She still hadn't given any indication that she wanted them to adopt her, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that she still didn't quite see them as her parents.

But he did.

And he was pretty sure that Claire also saw them as Maisie's parents, too; that he wasn't alone in feeling that way. He hadn't been sure what they were getting into, when they had originally taken Maisie in. Looking back on it now, he didn't think he had really grasped the magnitude of their actions. Just how long term of a commitment they were making. But he didn't regret it. Not for a second. His life now was miles ahead of where it had been just a short year ago.

A year ago his cabin was barely a frame on the ground, and he'd essentially cut himself off from everyone he knew. And now… now he had a finished cabin and a house. But more importantly, he had a family – a wife and a child he thought of as his daughter.

Really, the only thing missing from making it perfect was that he was never sure whether Maisie wanted to be there, as much as he wanted her there.

There was a part of him that knew that was unfair. Of course Maisie would need longer to adjust. She was only ten, and the changes that had been thrust into her life less than a year ago were bigger than most people would ever encounter. And why would she choose them over the life that she had had? Over her grandfather, who had been her whole world?

But, life moves forward whether you want it to or not, and he kept hoping that one day Maisie would feel comfortable to be moving forward with it, instead of continually looking back. That she'd realize that accepting them as her family, of granting them the privilege of being her parents, didn't have to mean throwing away her past.

"Hey." Claire's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see her standing in the doorway. When his gaze met hers, she closed the door behind her, stepping further into the garage, coming up beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder and looking down at the motorcycle, as if to examine what he'd been doing (although he knew she had no clue).

"What's up?" Owen asked, picking up a rag to wipe his hands.

"Just… are you okay?" Claire asked softly.

"Of course," Owen replied automatically and by default. Sure he'd been brooding over his thoughts, but he didn't really want to share them, not even with Claire.

"You know you don't have to be, right?" Claire asked, as she shifted her hand to start combing through his hair. Owen felt himself relaxing into her touch, tension flowing out at the gentle comfort.

"I know," Owen agreed readily. "I just… I don't really want to talk about it."

"Anything I can do?" Claire asked, moving to crouch down, so she was looking at him eye to eye, her hand sliding down to rest on the back of his neck, her fingers kneading at the muscle.

"You're doing it," Owen gave her a hint of a smile. Working on the motorcycle had helped, as he'd expected. But its presence would never top Claire's in being able to relax him in an instant. He reached for her, tugging on her gently until she was perched on his thigh, her head resting against his shoulder, his own arms wrapped around her. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing deep, feeling her own hand creep back up, until it was once again combing through his hair.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Claire whispered a few minutes later.

"I know," Owen nodded, his grip around her tightening, and he sank against her a bit more heavily, letting her share the weight of his burden. It wasn't always about words, Owen knew that. The comfort of a simple touch was often more powerful than anything that could be said. "I know," he repeated.

 

Notes:

:) I enjoy writing this little family. I hope you enjoyed reading it.