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Series:
Part 2 of Full Circle
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Published:
2018-12-06
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2023-11-28
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47/47
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Chapter 28: Title Cards

Notes:

So, I've had this sitting around for a few weeks and since I don't have IC to post (🙁) and I haven't started writing the sequel, I had time to edit. Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Title Cards

- 2019 -

The Sunday started just like any other. And it probably would've continued the same way, except for the texts from Karen.

The first one had made Claire pause in her morning routine as she stared at the words. Don't forget to call mom. It's Mother's Day. She'd completely blanked on the day, having been busy with everything else, and so Karen's text was a grateful reminder. She knew her mom would be disappointed if she didn't say anything.

It was the second text, that arrived a couple of hours later, that Claire didn't know how to respond to. What did Maisie and Owen do for you today? Zach sent me flowers and Gray made me breakfast. The text was accompanied by a picture of a vase of spring flowers. Claire stared at the picture for a while, before putting her phone down.

Even after the first text, and after phoning her mom to wish her a Happy Mother's Day (and reminding Owen to do the same), Claire was realizing that she still hadn't really connected the day with anything in her own life. Mother's Day had always been something about others, not her. And, sure, she had been taking care of Maisie for coming up on a year now, but… well, she wasn't actually her mom.

Or was she?

At what point could she claim to have crossed the line from being a guardian to being a parent and a mother? Maisie had given no indication that she thought of Claire and Owen as anything more than people who were there for her. She'd never slipped and called them her parents or "mom and dad." She'd never brought up adoption. In fact, there were days where Claire was sure that Maisie still thought that the whole situation was temporary; that one day her grandpa would come back for her.

How was she supposed to reply to Karen when, in fact, Maisie and Owen hadn't done anything? And should she have expected them to? No. She didn't think so. At least, she didn't expect Owen to do anything. Not unless Maisie first approached Owen, wanting to. Claire knew, if it was Father's Day, that unless Maisie had said something, she wouldn't make a big deal of the day. She wouldn't want to put undue pressure on the girl; to force her to accept something she wasn't ready for, and she was pretty sure that Owen felt the same way.

Still… picking up her phone and looking at the picture Karen had sent, she thought that it would've been nice to have received some sort of acknowledgement.

- 2020 -

Owen didn't like to track important dates and anniversaries. There were too many of them, and the number only seemed to increase every year. And this time of year, June, always seemed to be the worst offender. It felt easier to just ignore them , however, had been much easier to do when he lived on his own and there really weren't a lot of people in his life to disappoint when he forgot to acknowledge various events. Now, not only was he married to Claire, but they had Maisie to think about, too. And while he would be happy to ignore various "important" dates (and he knew Claire was often in agreement), Maisie hadn't yet moved to that stage of her life (and maybe never would).

Last year, he'd been caught off guard when Claire had mentioned it was Mother's Day and that he should phone his mom. He knew his mom was surprised by his call (he didn't have a good track record of phoning her on the day), but that wasn't what had set him on edge for the rest of the day. He'd been watching Maisie and Claire, unsure if he should be saying something to either of them.

In the months leading up to that day, he had started to feel like he'd moved from being a guardian to really being a parent. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, exactly, that caused the shift. It wasn't any one event or comment or anything. It was more just… the way life seemed to be settling comfortably together. All the pieces feeling like they were falling into place.

He knew, however, that just because he saw it that way, didn't mean that Maisie saw him as her father, or Claire as her mother. And he and Claire had had conversations about not pressuring Maisie and letting her settle at her own pace. So, when Claire hadn't given him any indication she was expecting something, and Maisie had never said anything, he'd let the day slide by. Just over a month later, when it had been Father's Day, he had wondered, briefly, if things would be different. But June was also a whirlwind time of year, what with the school year ending, the anniversary of the eruption on Nublar, meeting Maisie and reconciling with Claire, he had almost missed the day himself.

While nothing had happened that year, it had been barely a couple of weeks later when Maisie had raised the idea of adoption — a conversation that was worth way more than ever being told "Happy Father's Day."

When they'd started the proceedings, he'd originally thought they would be done by now. That it would take a few months, maybe half a year, and they'd wrap it all up. He hadn't realized just how arduous the process was going to be. Sure, Maisie didn't have anyone else competing to claim her as their own and it wasn't that the state was against allowing them to adopt her, it had just been that Maisie's case was extremely complicated.

While Mills had done his best effort to bleed Lockwood dry, he (thankfully) hadn't had access to everything, and so Maisie had a sizeable inheritance waiting for her. While neither Owen nor Claire were interested in touching that money, it did add a layer of complexity.

On top of that, after numerous late night talks and arguments, they had decided to bring up Maisie's status as a clone. Claire's argument for doing so, which Owen had eventually reluctantly agreed with, was that it was likely to come out at some point, and it would be better in the long run if they had been upfront about it.

He knew there was progress being made, but the gears of bureaucracy were slow. Paperwork always seemed to beget more paperwork, and there were days he felt like they were going to be buried alive by it all.

Owen had thought that Mother's Day would be different this year. That now that Maisie had taken the big step towards adoption and accepting them as her parents, that she'd want to acknowledge the holiday. But, just like the previous year, she hadn't said anything. That night, however, after Maisie had gone to bed, he'd approached Claire in her office, a hand hidden behind his back. When she'd inquired what he was doing, he'd produced the small cactus he'd picked up (he'd skipped on flowers, knowing that Maisie might make the connection and not wanting to make a big deal about it and also because he knew Claire had a much better chance of keeping a cactus alive).

"What's this for?" she'd asked, accepting the small pot and placing it on her desk.

"Happy Mother's Day," he'd replied, his voice a bit sheepish. "I know Maisie's not quite ready yet, but…" He'd shrugged. "I didn't want to let another one go by without acknowledging it."

His gift had resulted in a particularly good night, once Claire had managed to stop her tears. The tears had originally alarmed him, as he'd not been sure if they were happy tears or if he'd made a giant misstep.

The previous weekend, for Father's Day, he hadn't been surprised (although a bit disappointed) when there was still no acknowledgement from Maisie, nor had he been surprised when Claire had presented him with a gift late that evening, the two marking the holiday between them.

But now, sitting on Maisie's bed, he was struggling to decide what emotion was dominating his thoughts — guilt for having essentially ended up snooping in her closet (not on purpose, he'd been helping Claire out and putting away Maisie's laundry when he'd accidentally knocked over the shoebox) or the relief and exhilaration of his find.

He flipped through the small stack of cards in his lap again. Four in all, two for him, and two for Claire. All four were handmade, folded over pieces of paper with a hand drawn illustration on the front, often accompanied by stickers. And while they were all addressed to 'Claire' and 'Owen' and not mom or dad, they did say Happy Mother's Day and Happy Father's Day. The one's from this year were signed Love Maisie, and he could feel the tears building at the corner of his eyes.

When Maisie hadn't said anything last year, and then again this year, he'd started to wonder if she even knew about it. After all, she hadn't had a mom or dad to celebrate with growing up. And he wasn't sure if there was a grandfather's day (which briefly sidetracked him as he'd looked it up — turns out there's Grandparent's Day in September). But, while the past couple of years had shown that Maisie had a pretty sheltered upbringing, she'd been a voracious reader from the day they'd met her. There was no way, between all the books she'd read, and the movies and TV shows she'd watched in the years since, not to mention being in public school, that she wouldn't have heard about the holidays.

As he looked at the cards he was holding, he wondered if the fact that he and Claire had chosen not to mention it, had contributed to her not giving them the cards. Were all of them trying too hard to not be the one to step forward first, waiting for someone else to make a move, that they would be forever stuck in limbo?

He decided to focus on the fact that while Maisie may not be ready to give them the cards — she may not be ready for the weight and emotion attached to that — that she'd made them, that she'd considered giving them, and that she'd kept them, was a good sign that she was seeing them as her parents. And that knowledge was almost as good as having received them.

He knew that Maisie was a deep thinker, carefully evaluating all the options before she ever took action. That she'd gone through a lot in her 11 years, more than most people ever would in their whole lives. The cards in his lap felt like hope. Hope that she was finally seeing them as the parental figures that they were. And hope that next year, when it was highly likely the adoption would be finished, she'd feel brave enough and ready enough to actually give them to them.

- 2021 -

"Is she awake? Maybe we should wait for her to wake up. She was really tired last night."

Claire tried to muffle her groan as she turned away from the door, burying her face into her pillow. It had been what felt like the longest week ever, resulting in a last minute trip to DC and she'd got home late the night before. She just wanted to sleep. Couldn't they let her sleep just a little longer?

"It's fine. Come on."

Owen's voice, followed by his footsteps entering the room caused Claire to groan again. She tugged at the comforter, trying to pull it over her head.

"Wakey, wakey," Owen said, accompanying his words by pulling at the cover.

"Let me sleep," Claire kept her eyes closed, holding tightly to the comforter against his light tugs.

"Maybe we should–" Maisie started.

"No, your mom will want to be awake for this," Owen cut her off. The emphasis on the word mom and the almost elbow into her side made Claire rethink her actions. There must be something she was missing, because she knew Owen would normally let her sleep. If he thought it was important…

"I'm up, I'm up," Claire caved, finally letting the comforter get pulled away. She was immediately greeted by bright smiles on both Owen and Maisie's faces. Two faces that looked way too wide awake for, she spared a glance at her alarm clock, 8:30 in the morning. Okay, at least they'd waited a bit.

"Here." Maisie's hand shot out, presenting something. It took Claire a moment to realize it was an envelope. Her brow furrowed, she took it, sitting up in bed and adjusting the pillows behind her. As she moved to open it, she felt Owen settling down onto the edge of the bed near her hip, and she shifted a bit farther from the edge to give him more room. Maisie was almost bouncing with nervous energy.

"What's this?" Claire asked, looking from the envelope to Maisie.

"Open it!" Maisie exclaimed, her patience running thin.

Claire spared a quick glance at Owen, only to do a double take when she realized he had a tray on his lap. A tray that looked pretty precarious, considering it was laden down with a couple of mugs of coffee, a glass of orange juice, a vase of flowers, and three plates of french toast haphazardly stacked.

It wasn't her birthday, that had been a few months ago. She started opening the envelope when the realization hit her. She couldn't help the tears that sprung to her eyes.

"You said she'd be happy." The sound of Maisie voice, trembling as she accused Owen, spurred Claire forward. She quickly reached out for Maisie, pulling her to her side and into a tight hug. She could feel that Maisie still wasn't quite sure what to think, standing stiffly in her arms.

"I am happy," Claire said, the tears already starting down her cheeks. "I hadn't even realized what today was. That it was this weekend. Thank you so much."

"You haven't even opened my card," Maisie grumbled, but she at least finally started to relax against Claire, losing some of her stiffness.

"C'mere," Claire shifted over on the bed again, making room for Maisie to climb in next to her. Once Maisie was settled, Claire returned her focus to the card in front of her, trying to brush away the tears. She didn't like to think of herself as an overly emotional person, but, dammit, how was she supposed to stay calm during this?

As she reached into the envelope, she briefly flashed back to almost a year ago, when Owen admitted to her what he'd found, the hidden cards. That night they had both shed some tears, both in relief and also sadness, knowing that Maisie still hadn't made it over that hurdle. It had been hard, but she'd managed to convince herself not to go looking for the cards (it helped that Owen didn't tell her exactly where he'd found them and she didn't want to snoop, kids deserve privacy, too). He had told her, however, that they were handmade, which hadn't been that surprising, as she wasn't sure where Maisie would've been able to get them without letting either of them know. Knowing that this year, that Maisie had obviously talked to Owen, she expected to pull out a bought card. Instead, when she felt the rough feel of the construction paper, she could feel the tears starting up again in earnest.

As she pulled it from the envelope, another memory hit her, of Karen proudly showing off the card that Zach had made her at preschool when he was three. Although "made" should be probably used loosely, and of her own almost disgust at the random scribbles all over the page and the clashing colours. She had admitted that the very shakily, not quite legible, "Zach" on the card was kind of cute, but she didn't understand the pride in Karen's eyes. Karen had just shook her head and said that someday, when Claire had kids of her own, she'd understand the beauty of such gifts.

As she looked down at the card in front of her, Claire finally understood Karen's words (although she'd never admit that to Karen). It's not that the card was ugly, or horribly done. Maisie was 12, not three, and she'd obviously spent a great deal of time working on it. The front of the card had a picture that was clearly meant to be Claire and Maisie together. Opening up the card, Claire reached up to brush aside the tears again, although she knew they weren't going to stop falling. The inside of the card was pretty simple. It had the classic "Happy Mother's Day" in the middle. But it was the "Mom" at the top, the short sentence about how grateful Maisie was for having Claire in her life, followed by the "Love Maisie" at the bottom that unspooled her (not that she wasn't halfway there already). Over the past few weeks, they had all been stumbling over the word change, messing up just as often as they got it right. But this, this card, was the first time that Claire had seen it written down. The first time that mom was written and referred to her.

Putting down the card she turned to Maisie, pulling her back into a hug. "Thank you so much. I love it."

"Are you sure?" Maisie asked, when Claire finally pulled back. "I don't think I've ever seen you cry so much."

"They're all good tears, I promise," Claire said, letting out a watery chuckle. "I love you so much, I hope you know that."

"I do," Maisie nodded. "I love you, too."

Claire hugged her again, only pulling back when Owen cleared his throat — loudly.

"Can we eat now?" Owen asked. "I'm starving."

"Yes, of course," Claire laughed. She helped him shift the tray to her lap, before he moved Maisie's orange juice to the bedside table and handed Maisie her plate. Owen then moved to sit on Claire's other side, pulling his own plate onto his lap.

Claire took a couple of bites of her french toast, before pausing to look between Maisie and Owen. Three years ago, if you'd told her that this was going to be her life, and that she'd want this to be her life, she'd have fallen down laughing. But now, now she couldn't imagine anything else. When she looked at Owen next, he was watching her with a soft smile.

"What?" she asked him softly.

"Happy Mother's Day," he replied, equally softly, leaning over to give her a quick kiss. Pulling back, he looked down at his plate and then at her again, a playful look on his face. "You know, I think Maisie and I set the bar pretty high. I'm looking forward to seeing you try to top this."

"Just you wait," Claire said, grinning back at him.

Notes:

Thanks as always to my two editors / morale boosters / all around great friends Elise and Nadin for their help and support with this.

Let me know what you think. I'm sure this won't be the last for this family.

PS - If you missed it, The Missing Years was updated last week. And the final chapter of IC was posted.

PPS - Elise and I recorded a segment with Jennifer (BDHNetwork) for the Jurassic Park Podcast (episode 206). Check it out and let me know what you think.