'YOU SHALL KNOW MY WRATH!!!' A demonic voice erupted from Claudia's vocals as she pinned down two tiny kids—a boy and a girl—onto a very expensive, yet absurdly soft couch.
'Off you go, you little monster,' the boy, Ollie, screamed, trying his best to mimic the booming voice of a medieval knight, making sure that his consistent outburst of laughter didn't ruin the performance.
'Who is a little one here, you knee-high brat?' Claudia erupted, as she launched a ruthless tickle-assault, sending both the kids into a fit of sonic-shattering laughter.
'Shoulder high, for your information,' the girl, Thea, corrected her with a well-timed jab of honesty.
'Oh!' Claudia paused to process the words that came out of the little girl, 'You snarky little...'
Claudia doubled down on her tickle-assault and she had crushed the fighting spirit of the opposing army; she made a fist out of both of her hands and raised it to the air in an overly dramatic fashion...
'Err...hello,' a familiar voice hesitantly spoke from the entrance of their hall, 'What is happening here?'
Claudia froze, her fists still raised like a victorious general, as she turned toward the voice.
'Just Garry!?!' she exclaimed, 'Wha...What are you doing here?'
It was Garry; he was standing there in awe, carrying a tub of ice cream in each of his hands, and an awkward but warm smile on his soft lips. Before he could resolve the puzzling question coming out of his cafe encounter's mouth, the kids screamed in unison.
'UNCLE GARRY!!'
The kids jumped onto him, and he held them in his arms. But finding it difficult to balance the brats and the tubs of ice cream, Garry walked towards the couch and dropped himself and the kids onto its soft, bouncy surface. The kids burst out laughing, and which was joined by Garry.
Claudia stood there, half-flabbergasted and half-confused. But for some reason, she couldn't help but bring out a soft smile on her face, for reasons she wasn't yet privy to.
Amidst the chaos, Garry pulled his eyes toward Claudia and offered her a warm chuckle.
'Hi, Ms. Shepard,' he greeted her in a voice which was as soothing as it was endearing, 'What a pleasant surprise to find you here.'
Garry continued to fixate his eyes on Claudia, still trying to process the sheer entanglement of coincidences fate had woven. He was delighted to meet her again, and yet was trying to maintain his composure only to realize that he might have been staring at her for a little too long.
He tried breaking his gaze on her, but it was inadvertently prolonged when Claudia decided to shower him with her greetings.
'It's nice to see you, too,' after a brief pause, she continued, blurting, 'Mrs. Ellison did not tell me that you were coming. Or that you existed in their family, for that matter.'
Get a grip, Claudia, what are you saying? she told herself once she realized the phrasing of the words that were coming out of her mouth.
Garry chuckled yet again, tilting his head to the side as he lowered it. After a brief pause, he looked back up.
'I didn't know you existed in this family,' he continued, 'The kids never told me they are being babysat by such a lovely lady...'
He paused there, reconsidering the words he was about to utter, '...I would have made more regular visits if that was the case.'
Claudia was taken aback; for a brief moment, her eyes enlarged.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
Did he just—?
She felt a trickle of heat crawl up her neck, effortlessly reaching her cheeks, expanding it with a shade of pink. Already defeated, with all her might, she swatted the flush out with the sharpest eye-roll she could muster.
'Careful, Garry,' said she, folding her arms, 'That sounds awfully like you were hitting on me.'
'And that—' he pointed his fingers at her face, '—looks awfully like you are blushing...'
'You—' she tried to retort, but her words gave up on her.
Garry simply shrugged, carrying a boyish smile on his face. Claudia couldn't help but gape at it and blurt out a chuckle herself. There was something about his smile she found enticing, an intrigue of not being able to decide whether that man made the smile or the smile made that man.
'Aahh...' Garry yelped, breaking off Claudia's trance, 'That hurts.'
Thea was pulling his cheeks with all her little might, turning his smile into something more goofy. Claudia giggled until her schoolteacher's instinct kicked in.
'Oh my gosh! Thea, stop hurting Uncle Garry!' she exclaimed with a note of concern in her voice as she looked at Garry.
'It's okay, Ms. Shepard. These little demons can't hurt me,' he lifted the kids up and pinned them down on the couch.
Ollie, as a last-ditch effort to win against a Goliath of an opponent and save his knightly honor, held on to Garry's hair and pulled it.
'No! Not his hair!!' Claudia threw out an impulsive scream, startling the party.
All eyes shifted to her, and a thick air of silence surrounded the area...but then, all of a sudden, Garry let out a loud laugh, which made everyone else there laugh.
'Alright, alright, Ollie, you have declared your victory,' Garry said, ruffling the boy's hair gently but deliberately avoiding a reaction, as if daring him to try again.
Garry rose from the couch, and holding the tubs of ice cream, he walked toward Claudia and spoke in an almost soft whisper.
'Careful there, Ms. Shepard. You seem to be awfully concerned about me.'
As Garry's words hung in the air like the sweet, teasing scent of summer, Claudia tried her best not to look at the man and keep a straight face.
Claudia’s eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line, but the corners twitched, betraying her.
She looked straight at him, and with a swift movement, grasped the ice cream tubs from his hands.
'I was more concerned about the ice cream,' she retorted as she walked toward the kitchen, 'They look delicious.'
'Best in the country, Ms. Shepard.'
Claudia stored the ice creams in the freezer, and when she returned to the hall, she saw Garry remove his jacket and blazer, revealing a shell-white shirt underneath. The texture of the shirt was bright and warm at the same time, and it fit Garry well. A little too well for Claudia's liking.
'I need ice cream,' Ollie demanded, yet again breaking Claudia out of her trance.
'Not now, first have your dinner,' Claudia affirmed.
'Uncle Garry cook for us,' Thea screamed with all her might.
'Uncle Garry cook for us,' Ollie followed his elder sister's suite.
'No, your mom has prepped you all a dinner,' Claudia remarked, 'Let's not bother your uncle.'
'That's okay, Ms. Shepard, it's an unspoken rule of this house. I cook whenever I am here,' Garry informed, 'My sister will understand. And for me, it won't be a bother as long as you help me with your company.'
As soon as they entered the kitchen, Claudia realized that Garry knew his way around the place. He opened the drawer and pulled out one of his sister's clean aprons. He unbuttoned a couple of buttons from his shirt, forcing Claudia to fixate her eyes on him.
Claudia's breath caught in her throat as Garry rolled up his sleeves with practiced precision. Each deliberate fold revealed more of his forearms—tanned skin stretched over lean muscle, decorated with intricate tattoos that disappeared beneath the crisp white fabric.
Forcing herself to look away, Claudia busied herself with opening cabinets she'd already memorized the contents of. "So... what are we making?" she asked, hoping her voice sounded steadier than it felt.
'I am thinking something simple, maybe a comforting bowl of pasta all the while making sure that the kids have their deserved share of veggies.'
'Aye, aye, Chef,' Claudia responded with a grin, stepping closer to the refrigerator to pull out the ingredients.
Garry smiled to himself at Claudia's response. He felt an unexpected yet soft rush of comfort upon hearing it. He felt good.
After fetching the required ingredients, Claudia closed the refrigerator but then froze in her place when she saw her reflection on the bright, shiny surface.
There, in the cool sheen of steel, was herself.
She stared for a moment.
Really stared.
It struck her then—she couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly looked at her own face.
Fine lines had begun to trace themselves across her forehead, more than she remembered. There was a faint darkness beneath her eyes, not quite fatigue, not quite time—but something stubborn that had settled in. A pale blemish marked the side of her chin. The natural pink of her lips had dulled a little. A faint crease had formed between her brows, the kind that worry carves in silence.
She raised her hand and brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. Her fingers lingered there, almost in apology, almost in comfort.
Oh my God! I look homeless... her brain impulsively whispered in her ears.
'You look beautiful,' Garry's voice spoke from behind. He saw her too.
'Oh,' she exclaimed as she turned herself toward him, 'Err...Thanks.'
But before she could say anything, Garry distracted her with another piece of conversation.
'I read your stories, you know.'
Claudia was shaken, 'You did what...?'
He responded to her with his classic warm smile as he opened the pasta packet, 'Your short stories that were buried under the editorials of old newspapers.'
Claudia felt a rush of tangled emotions flood her veins—impossible to name, yet achingly close to silent joy. A quiet comfort bloomed in the simple truth that someone wanted to know her. And the sudden realization that she wanted to be seen that way was like opening a door she didn't know had ever existed.
'Why?' she questioned, but then suddenly putting herself together, 'I mean, just why? I didn't know the Man of the Year had enough time scouring for an unknown author.'
'I don't know, maybe I was just curious.'
'I hope you didn't read something embarrassing.'
'Oh, I did...' Garry made a dramatic expression by clenching his hands over his chest, 'But considering how scary the writing was, I have repressed them from my memory.'
'Very funny,' she snarked, feeling a slight discomfort at the slander.
'I liked how your characters were portrayed; they were very...honest. Even the vilest of creatures seemed very real,' he continued, 'You know who my favorite was?'
'Who?'
'Glenda.'
Claudia froze in her place; something hit her at the spot she rarely visited. After a brief pause, she tried to cloud it with, 'I felt she was naive and stupid.'
'I beg to differ,' Garry protested, 'Something about her felt real. I liked how she did what she wanted despite what circumstance demanded; she was a woman for herself.'
He continued, 'The best part about her was the weird longing of being called by her last name with a Ms. attached to it. It was surreal and yet endearing.'
Claudia didn't respond; she couldn't respond.
'If I can be bold, I would say she is what you want to be...'
Bingo! Oh, this man would be the death of me.
'Well, I am not her, I can't be her,' Claudia told Garry with a very thinly layered veil of nonchalance in her voice.
'Is it soft enough?' Garry changed the topic by passing a piece of freshly cooked pasta.
'Just perfect, Chef!!' Claudia yelled as she squished the pasta between her fingers.
A brief silence followed. Garry’s thoughts drifted quietly, unsure if the stillness was needed or simply happened. Gradually, the hum of his inner voice faded. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it just was, a simple calm between them.
'I need that spoon,' Garry remarked, pointing at one next to Claudia.
He moved himself toward the spoon as Claudia’s hand reached for the same, causing her fingers to brush against his. The sudden warmth of his hands made Claudia lose her balance just a little, instinctively stepping back.
Within a fraction of a moment, she found herself hitting something solid and yet pleasingly soft—her back resting gently against Garry's chest.
Garry's breath hitched just slightly, and his arms instinctively wrapped around her waist to steady her, careful and tender.
'Ahaa,' a warm, audible breath escaped Garry’s lips, drifting over Claudia’s neck. It made her reflexively tilt her head, letting it glide softly over his chest.
Neither of them moved away immediately. Instead, they stayed there in that small, shared space—where time seemed to slow, and the usual kitchen noise faded into a distant hum.
Then, as if remembering the world outside their bubble, Claudia pulled back quickly, clearing her throat.
“Right,” she said, stepping aside. “We should get the kids their dinner before they start a mutiny.”
Garry smiled, the warmth in his eyes lingering as he picked up the spoon. “Yes, Chef.”