One Fine Day II (Thoughts on a First Day of School…)
A continuation of the ever-silly “One Fine Day in the Park”, if you can take another AU fic with Heero as the five-and-a-half-year-old adopted son of Lucrezia Noin
“Heero! Come on, let’s go! You don’t wanna be late for your first day of school, do you?” Lucrezia pleaded, standing in the doorway, opening an umbrella. The little boy hollered from the top of the stairway,
“But mooooooom! I can’t find my baseball hat. You seen it?”
“No,” she replied, rolling her eyes, “I’ll look for it later, ‘k, sweetie? Now let’s boogie!” The little boy trotted down the stairs with his brand-new school bag firmly adjusted on his shoulders. His mother sighed as she noticed he was wearing his favourite outfit… again!
“Will he ever get tired of that ratty old tanktop and those silly spandex shorts?” she thought to herself. Many times she had taken her son shopping for clothes, but he literally refused to wear anything else. Said it made him look like a real Gundam pilot. And, as much as she feared other parents’ comments, the first day of school wasn’t exactly the best morning for a kicking, screaming temper tantrum over clothing. So she reluctantly decided to indulge his bizarre fashion statement, hoping he would soon grow out of it (or the clothes, whichever came first).
Lucrezia hurried her child into the tall, forest-green Nissan Pathfinder and buckled him in. As she was driving down the tree-lined lanes of their neighbourhood, she repeated to Heero the usual recommendations about his behaviour. He kept fidgeting in the seat, going,
“Yah, yah, I know… Blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda ya… Bo-rrring.” Yet Lucrezia had the worst feeling. It had been raining for a week straight. They hadn’t been able to make it to the park, and Heero hadn’t been able to run around and let off his excess energy. He was a walking, talking textbook case of cabin fever, ready to break out in complete mischief as soon as he was given the opportunity. And a classroom full of toys and other six-year-olds during recess was exactly the catalyst for that.
“Hey, mommy, Relena’s gonna be in my class, right? Is she? Is she?” Heero asked enthusiastically as the car pulled over by the sidewalk leading to the elementary school. Groups of parents were gathered there, dropping off their children, a colourful display of umbrellas in the pouring rain. Lucrezia smiled at her little boy and replied,
“Well, I’m not sure, but she’s also going into Grade 1. Either way, you’ll be able to play with her during recess. You’ll just have to tell me all about it when I pick you up, ‘k, kiddo?” With that, she got out of the car, scrambled to open her umbrella, and walked to the other side to give Heero shelter as he hopped out. He squealed with delight and ran ahead, jumping into every single puddle between the car and the entrance to the school.
“Heero, wait! You’re getting soaked…” Lucrezia called out. Heero simply ignored her, the joy of being outside overflowing him.
“At least put on the hood,” she timidly uttered, feeling the probing stares of other parents, who no doubt must be wondering what kind of neglectful mother would let her child run around in the rain, dressed only in bike shorts, a tanktop and a light rain jacket. She hurried after him, her coat still open, her high heels splashing as they plunged into the puddles, repeating to him to stay on the sidewalk.
“Gosh, I must look like hell,” she thought, and cringed as she caught a glimpse of her shoes, covered in puddle muck.
“Oh, boy… just today that I’m supposed to make a professional impression.”
She eventually caught up to Heero, and managed to get him to stand still under her umbrella as she combed his unruly dark hair with her fingers, then planted an affectionate kiss on his cheek. He protested aloud,
“Mom! Not in public… it’s not cool, I told you!” and rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, grimacing and hoping none of his future classmates had witnessed any of it. Lucrezia rolled her eyes at her son and gave him a playful smile as she commented,
“oh, boy… Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t call you…” then she approached to whisper in his ear, “My cuddly-wuddly munchkin, or something!” The little boy moved back, an expression of complete disapproval on his face, and muttered,
“Yah, that would have sucked… I’d be called a nerdy geek for ever!” His mother chuckled, then continued,
“Anyway, have a good first day, ok? And remember…”
“Aaargh! I know, I’ll behave!!!” Heero interrupted, getting impatient.
“Actually,” Lucrezia replied, “I was about to say, have a good time and make lots of friends ‘cause school’s supposed to be fun…”
Just then a little hand tapped on Heero’s shoulder. Heero’s pouting lips stretched in a smile.
“Relena! Holy cow, dude, long time no see!” he greeted his little friend. The little girl looked up at her brother, who was carrying her school bag for her, then frowned and repeated,
“Dude?!” Her brother smiled as he wrought the water out of his long blonde hair, then joked,
“Yeah, dude! Dontcha know? Heero’s being cool! Right, Heero?”
“Damn right, dude,” little Heero replied proudly, just as his mother blushed and yelped,
“Heero! Watch your language! Jeez…” He then gave his mother one last hug before grabbing hold of Relena’s hand and darting inside, both ready to start life as grade 1 students.
Lucrezia and Mirialdo followed the two children with their eyes, both smiling proudly.
“I can’t believe he’s a school-aged boy already,” Lucrezia sniffled, trying to repress her emotions,
“It seems like yesterday that he was just a scared toddler, and I was so totally clueless about children…” Mirialdo rummaged in the pockets of his trenchcoat, and fished out a handkerchief, then offered it to her. She smiled sheepishly and thanked him, then took the handkerchief between her fingers and dried the tiny teardrops that were stinging her eyes.
“Man, this rain is awful,” she commented, blushing at her silliness for shedding tears in front of others.
“Yep… It’s something, alright,” he replied awkwardly, wanting to distract her, “If they had told me it was this bad, I wouldn’t have believed it… Guess they don’t dub it the Wet Coast for nothing…” With that, he gave a soft chuckle and squeezed the water out of his hair again. Lucrezia finally looked up at him, then slapped her forehead as she realized he was standing there, all that time, with no umbrella.
“Oh, jeesh, what a dodo-head! Sorry, you must be soaked!” With that, she extended her arm so that the umbrella would shelter them both.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” she mumbled, blushing and looking down at the puddle she was standing in.
“Oh, well, uh… it’s ok, really,” he stuttered, not wanting to make her late for work. She looked up at him and smiled sheepishly, then continued,
“Please. It’s the least I can do. You’ve been standing here in the rain… and it was totally rude of me to not notice.”
“Well, in that case,” he replied with a most dazzling smile, “Thank you, Lucrezia,” then he proceeded to point her to a black Volkswagen Passat, parked not too far from her own Pathfinder.
As they walked side-by-side, both feeling the butterflies in their stomach and not daring to look up to meet each other’s eyes, Lucrezia’s balance almost faltered a couple of times. High heels were definitely no fun in the rain, especially when she wasn’t used to wearing them… not to mention, sidewalks were already slippery enough as it was, with all the dead leafy mess from the previous night’s storm. Mirialdo noticed her unsteady pace and instinctively slid his arm below hers to support her.
He felt a heat wave flush his cheeks as she uttered a soft “thank you”, her beautiful dark eyes still staring at the ground. As soon as they were standing in front of his car, he started hesitantly,
“Maybe I should be the one walking you to your car…” She looked away, smiling and nervously passing her free hand through her hair, then mumbled,
“Uh… gosh… it’s… embarrassing, how little I’m used to dressing in power suits and heels…” Not letting go of her arm, he simply commented,
“Then it means you have a fun job,” and turned to the sidewalk again.
“It’s the green SUV, right?” he asked, walking with her towards it before she even had a chance to decline his offer.
“I don’t think you ever told me about your job,” he continued, then after a brief pause he added,
“Oh, man… am I being too nosey again? I kind of tend to do that…” She smiled and looked up at him, frantically denying to reassure him. He was right, she had never really told him… She knew he was an airline pilot with some military background. He had hinted at it a couple of times as they sat in the park, watching their little ones play. But, as much as he enjoyed talking about his little sister or the last place he flew to, he had never really said much about his military training, as though for some reason he preferred not to talk about it. On the other hand, she hadn’t really been open with him, either.
“I’m a teacher…” she mumbled, “an engineering instructor, to be more exact”. His smile brightened as he stopped in front of her car, rubbed his neck nervously, and commented,
“I figured you’d have to be something like that… You seem to have an uninterruptible supply of patience…” With that, he offered to hold her umbrella as she opened the door and slid herself inside the car.
“Well,” he joked, “now that I’ve made you really late for class… I guess I’ll see you in the afternoon when the two ‘mugwumps’ get off school.” She thanked him again as he closed the umbrella and handed it over to her, then her eyes followed him as he ran down the sidewalk in the pouring rain, until he got to his car.
She found herself unable to stop thinking of him… or smiling at the thought of his kindness. She shook her head and scolded herself as she kept driving on the highway that led to her workplace.
“Luc, get a grip,” she mumbled to herself, “You’re a single mom… Got way too much to handle as it is.” She had accepted it, the very day that she decided to take Heero home from that children’s shelter, that her life would never be the same. That he would become her end-all and be-all, and nothing else would really matter. Things like being young and irresponsible, and dating, and going out on Saturday nights like most people her age... She’d be twenty years old, and with a small child. A little war victim, only thirteen months old, yet so traumatized already. He didn’t even cry, when she first met him. Almost as though he had been trained to not make a sound. Almost as if he knew that his survival was so precarious, hanging to a thread. That little boy with those sad, grown-up eyes was what made her leave her career behind and never once look back.
She sighed as she put the flicker on and switched lanes.
“My career as a mobile suit pilot.” An ace waiting to happen, as she had been described several times by her superiors. One of the few women pilots gaining widespread recognition for her skills and steady nerves in battle. It still stung sometimes, how she felt as though she had let everyone down when she left. Especially her female comrades, who looked up at her to represent women soldiers in general. Strangely enough, the nastiest, most sexist comments had come from them when she announced her resignation. She was leaving to be a “civilian mommy”, some said. “Throwing a brilliant career down the toilet for the sake of her biological clock,” others commented. It had hurt her, to find that the ones who should have understood her choice were the ones who condemned it most fiercely. Ironically, she had received more support from her male colleagues than from her supposed girl friends. Her own family included. Although the objections that her parents had at first melted away in an instant as soon as they met their grandson.
She smiled as the memory of her own superior came before her.
“Zechs Merquise… you never did let me see your face, if your life depended on it…” He was the first one to know of her decision to leave. Come to think of it, he probably had been her closest friend throughout all the time she spent out there, in the war zone. He had always treated her like an equal, despite the rank difference. And, as secretive and reserved as he was with everyone else, he could be outrageously funny with her. She had never even cared that he wouldn’t take off his mask in front of her. She never made it an issue of trust. He must have had his reasons for it, that was all. All she knew was that she admired him deeply and wanted to be like him.
She had expected him to tell her that she was nuts, or rip the letter in her face. After all, there was nothing rational about her decision to resign to take care of a war orphan. Instead, he briefly reminded her of all that she could be if she stuck around, including dead in the next battle, and asked her if she was sure that leaving was the right thing for her, just according to standard procedure. Never once said anything to make her feel guilty, or to diminish her choice. He just filed away the letter, then grabbed hold of her hand and told her that little boy was darn lucky to get a second chance with a parent like her. And she had been grateful to God for people like him.
She didn’t even know how old he was, or where he came from, or what his real name was, though she had a feeling it wasn’t really Zechs Merquise. But it didn’t matter, in the greater scheme of things. She just… cherished the evenings spent talking about war and peace and life in front of a window overlooking space. Or the times that he would knock on her door just to let her know the Italian hockey team was winning*. He never quite made it to challenge her on a real hockey arena, on Earth, like he promised to. The war took him before he had a chance to see peace. The peace he had sacrificed so much for. And that, ultimately, claimed his life, too.
Her eyes stung as she clutched the steering wheel at a traffic light. She still blamed herself sometimes. After almost four years, she still wondered… what if she hadn’t left? Would she have been able to talk some sense into him? Dissuade him from that crazy, suicidal mission? She had gotten through to him in the past… Would he be alive if she hadn’t left? If she had been there to fight alongside him, instead of seeing the explosion on the ten o’clock news.
Helpless. Powerless. She would always remember it, even in fifty years. How she was sitting in front of the TV in her living room, marking a stack of midterms… Had been in Halifax with Heero for almost a year. She had been glancing up at the TV screen every once in a while, absent-mindedly taking in the evening news. Then she had seen it. Recognized his mobile suit at a glance, one split second before seeing it ignite and explode in space. Didn’t even register the scream she let out.
She sat there on the couch, in shock as the news anchor carelessly mispronounced his name. Sat clutching her pen, eyes wide open in shock, clouded over with tears streaming on her face and staining the papers on her lap. It just… hurt… Like a part of her had just been killed, too. It hurt so much that she didn’t even realize she was crying her heart out for him until Heero sneaked out of his bed. Worried about her. “Why are you crying, mommy?” he asked in his little two-year-old voice, hugging her knees to his face.
“Silly,” she thought to herself as the traffic light turned green on her left-turning lane.
“It’s been four years, and it still gets to me… like I could have done anything to prevent it in the first place…” She resolved to chase the thought away for the rest of the day as her car pulled into the college’s parking lot. Today would be an important day. First day of school, both for herself and her son. She would meet the classes she would be teaching for the semester. All the planning and scheduling and all the time spent in faculty meetings finally would take up a face. Thirty-something college students’ faces, to be more exact. Her own students. Probably just as nervous as she was. It was weird, she had been teaching college students ever since becoming a civilian. And yet, every first day of school was still just as nerve-wracking. The expectations, the responsibility of educating curious minds… the promise that she had made to herself to be the best possible teacher that she could be. So that she would never let anyone down. Ever again. But that’s why she loved it.
Her eyes glowed as her thoughts went back to her son.
“I wonder how he’s doing,” she thought with a slight smile. Well, he was an exceptionally smart little boy. Had been reading since he was four. She almost couldn’t believe it herself, that evening that she sat at his bedside, reading to him like she did every night. Had been their little bedtime ritual ever since she became his mother. It was the story of Big NutBrown Hare and Little NutBrown Hare… his very favourite. And that night he just pointed at the exact line on the page, and recited,
“And I love you all the way to the Moon!” then went on reading further, while she was just too dumbfounded to speak. Now he would learn how to write and do math, too.
A warm, fuzzy feeling made her smile wider as she pictured him, sitting at his desk, trying to trace A’s and B’s on his notebook, his face all serious, caught up in the effort of concentrating on the task. She looked back towards the hills overlooking the ocean. Towards home. Smiled and thought to herself,
“Yes, I definitely did the right thing.”
************
NOT the end!!!
