Frame of Mind
(Bate/ Callan)
(Bate/ Callan)
It’s rather fascinating, the way so much could change in so little time while the world turned on as if nothing had ever happened.
Not too long ago Callan had been attending a lovely art exhibition, admiring intricately crafted frames of crystal work with a few lady companions who she had considered rather droll but hadn’t the heart to refuse. She had been planning for a luncheon thereafter, a pleasant meeting by which she might encourage some of them to gossip about the latest business ventures of their partners and loved ones. It was rather part and parcel for her, but all together quite enjoyable.
Things had been much simpler then. There was no stress, no need to worry, no need to think about the less pristine details of her life. She could enjoy what it offered her and think little more beyond it.
Rather foolish, when she thought of it that way. There was no avoiding her husband, nor his actions. Not forever. Not after what he had done.
“You know what to do if one of the kids gets into a fight, right?”
“Calmly separate them and tell them about gentle hands.”
She could have planned her affairs better, perhaps. There had been no need to take flight from her estates as though she were being chased out of the city. She was excellent at planning meticulously; she could have just waited until a property was available for purchase. Or had something built. That would have worked.
But that would require time. And she had wasted quite enough time already.
“There are snacks in their backpacks. If they get hungry, they can have some apple slices and veggie sticks and some juice. Try not to give them everything because they might not want dinner, but I won’t complain if they insist.”
“Of course, dear, I will make sure of it.”
Kalmari Town certainly is peaceful. Callan couldn’t say she knew all too much about it, but from her precious few visits, it never seemed to be any different no matter how many times she came by. Shopkeepers sold their wares, people went about their days. The forest in the distance contented itself with growing its trees and the sea brushed the shores. Occasionally a new building appeared, and occasionally another toppled over, ruined by some weather event or other.
Everything seemed to march on in the same idyllic way, day after day and year after year, with just enough variation to keep life perhaps mildly interesting. Callan’s hasty arrival wouldn't have been even a blip on the radar.
It had not been her intention to uproot the lives of her daughter's family when she had arrived on their doorstep. It hadn’t been her intention to impose upon them, for she hadn’t deserved anything. Truthfully, after all was said and done and the tears were spilled and apologies made, she had fully expected them to turn her away. It would be the least she deserved after everything.
But their generosity knew no bounds, it seemed, and the knowledge of her separation from her husband must have shaken them badly. Badly enough that, after much private consultation, Bate had returned to the living room and quietly, tentatively, offered her a place to stay. Just temporarily, until she had her bearings.
Callan could not imagine the strength it must have taken to do that. Callan could not have been more endlessly grateful for it.
“And you know to call me if anything happens. I mean it; anything at all.”
“Absolutely. I will have my phone on me at all times, you have my word.”
Estella taps a hand to her chin, staring down at the floor in thought. Callan, in front of her, allows her the silence to think without interruption. Instead, she casts her gaze across the home, from the entryway to the kitchen she had tidied up just yesterday to the freshly cleaned floors of the living room sparsely decorated with toys. Callan had picked them up earlier, but children didn’t care about tidiness when they were bored.
Neither Bate nor Estella had wanted any financial assistance when it came to purchasing amenities for her new room. Callan couldn’t exactly help the man of the house haul all of the junk out of the room either. Although keeping the home tidy was certainly not her usual fare - she did still somewhat miss her housekeeping - she was more than willing to do anything to repay their kindness.
It also, she thought, gave her ample opportunity to spend more time with her grandbabies. Grandbabies who were currently dressed in little backpacks and sitting on the floor beside her, waiting to go out for a fun time at the park.
Estella follows her gaze with a pensive expression on her face. Letting Callan watch them while she was gone hadn’t been her first choice - there had always been one parent present with the children, no matter how much Callan minded them both. But Estella is a nurse, and nurses don’t often have the luxury of a set schedule. A schedule conflict with Bate’s work was bound to come up eventually.
Kadren chirps quietly, glancing between them and leaning his little self against Callan’s side. She coos automatically, reaching down to pet the top of his precious little head. He’s got little rubber caps on his talons now, which Callan thinks is quite adorable - they didn’t need a repeat incident of last time.
Estella sighs. “Don’t…make me regret this.”
“You have my word, Estella.”
Estella’s expression twitches. She says nothing.
The goodbyes are spoken, with plenty of kisses and sweet words to go around. Estella takes a little more time than she perhaps ought to, which Callan does not point out. Finally, however, it is time to leave, and with one last wave, Estella sets off.
Now, it is just Callan and the little ones.
She looks down at Kadren and Emma, two little dumplings who look back at her with big eyes and mystified expressions, full of strange thoughts that only toddlers might understand. Again, not for the first time, she wonders to herself how Les could have thought to differentiate the two so. She didn’t understand.
She loves them so very much.
“Well then?” She says brightly. “How about we get going!”
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Callan has not actually left the house since her arrival a few weeks ago.
She ambles along the worn dirt path with steps that lag more than they ought to. Partly, this is the children’s doing, as their backpacks are hooked to little leashes that allow them the freedom to toddle and run. More than once are they distracted, whether by a shiny rock or a stray bug in the grass. More than once do they attempt to run ahead, causing her to have to gently wrangle them back which, for an older woman such as herself, is quite a workout.
Around them, the land stretches blanketed by a carpet of grass, peppered through with the occasional presence of trees. Flowers grow, and above the sun shines warmly on their backs, lighting the way. It isn’t something Callan is familiar with and she takes more time than she should simply admiring the scenery as her grandchildren entertain themselves.
Les hadn’t enjoyed staying in Kalmari longer than was necessary. Callan hadn’t either, perhaps, but had Estella asked - and she had asked - Callan wouldn’t have minded at least going out to eat.
But Les would never entertain such a thing. He had barely tolerated Bate’s presence in the privacy of Bate’s own home. Going out in public, where others could see, in a conservative town like Kalmari? Unthinkable.
And Kadren is his father’s spitting image.
Callan hesitates.
She looks over at the child, toddling along a step head with his sister, and then up. Further down the path, the shape of a playground has begun to solidify, inching further and further into view with each step. A quick listen tells her that it’s busy, full of squealing and laughter. Distant, but growing ever so loud the closer they get.
Kalmari is a conservative town. They didn’t like outsiders and never had, much like many other places in West Nova. She had always known that offhandedly, in the way someone knew the color of the sky or how the wind felt. She’d never thought of it much. Only now is she realizing what it means.
Something in her churns as she feels Kadren and Emma begin to tug hard at the sight of the park ahead. Her feet dig into the ground in a blind moment of panic, but the children are strong and won’t be deterred. They pull and she goes along with them and there’s nothing she can do about it.
The park isn’t very big. It’s a lovely, quaint spot for visitors to relax, with a few winding paths, some benches and trees, and not far from the Bate family house, about ten minutes. There are two playgrounds, Callan sees, scattered across the property. One sits a fair distance away, populated by school-age children. The other one sits nestled right along the path, cordoned off from the park by a league of fencing that surrounds it, and it’s here that the twins pull her.
The noise is almost deafening at this distance, Callan thinks, and it’s easy to see why. Youngsters about Kadren and Emma’s age run wild, unhindered by their parents with the fence to keep them contained. Several clamor about the equipment, climbing little stairs and sliding down little slides. Some dig in the dirt several feet away, while still others play chase. It’s a veritable mess of loud, childish chaos, and all around benches and tables sit occupied by parents there to keep an eye on them as they play.
All of them are Squishies.
Callan stares. Every nerve in her body buzzes with some sort of restless, hot-cold sensation, and for a second doesn’t know what to do, how to act, caught on the fringe of an emotion that feels almost like fear, and yet is far from it.
She had sworn to Estella that she would never let anything happen to Kadren ever again. She intended to keep that promise. If, so help her, anyone here had the gall to treat her grandson the same way Les had…
Emma and Kadren tug violently against the leashes in Callan’s hold. Emma yells, quite loudly.
Well, she didn’t know what she was going to do. But she would be certain to make it everyone’s problem.
With the children practically biting at her heels, Callan makes haste opening the gate and stepping through. She works quickly once they’re inside; backpacks are taken off, one of them opened to procure a teal ball which is set into her grandson’s eager hands. And then, tired of waiting, the children finally run off, and Callan goes to find a bench on which to rest her weary self.
She can’t help sagging a little bit against the backrest once she’s finally seated. It’s exhausting work, as it turns out, managing and redirecting the force of a young one’s energy. Seeing how the two bound around the equipment throwing their ball every which way, she’s not certain how she would’ve managed had she had to hold onto them much longer.
Callan watches them with an air of weary contentment. Many times she’s second guessed herself during weaker moments, times when the severity of her actions weigh a little too heavy on the mind. But her grandchildren were everything to her, no matter how the mind wandered and questioned. Seeing them here, so happy and carefree, being able to see them at all, is a blessing that she would forever be grateful for. There would never be anything better.
Les is a fool, she thinks, for refusing it.
Callan is happy to watch her grandchildren and let the time pass them by. How long she does that, she isn’t sure. But the playground is noisy, filled with the laughter and screaming of children and, in the background, the talk of parents. It is, of course, grossly impolite to eavesdrop, but then Callan has never been one to miss a bit of gossip.
Not when they are sitting right behind her, and certainly not when they are talking about her family.
“Is that Kade and Emma, over there?”
“Looks like it. Man, it’s like the two grow another inch every time you look at them…”
“Yeah. I wonder if Kade’s flying now…? Can he fly at this age?”
“Dunno, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Gosh, those wings are getting so big.”
Callan twitches.
“Aww, look at those claws of his! They have little caps on, oh my goodness? That’s so cute! I think that’s the first time I’ve seen anything like that on him…”
“Accident, I guess. I just really hope none of the other kids try to take one of them off.”
“Sounds like he’s still tweeting.”
“I know, right? It’s so adorable to listen to; I still don’t know how he does it.”
Callan listens quietly without turning her head as the others talk among themselves, staring ahead blankly. Their conversation wanders, in the way conversations do, and it’s nothing special, really. Kade looks so much like Bate, doesn’t he, someone says. He’s such a round, sweet little fellow, goes someone else.
They gush about him - and his sister, of course - as though he were a little celebrity. Not that Callan is complaining, because they are all quite correct and he ought to be a little celebrity. But that’s just the thing, isn’t it?
They’re gushing about him.
No insults. No barbs. No thinly veiled comments alluding to their distaste for his existence. They afford her grandson the basic dignity of respect and kindness, and there is nothing she can hear within the layers of their words or the tones of their voices that would suggest otherwise.
It’s far more than his own grandfather has ever given him. Callan’s heart aches at the thought.
As she ponders on these discoveries, a familiar cry catches her attention and causes her to look over. Kadren, out by a swing set, is currently seated on the ground, making a grabbing motion towards another child who has his ball in their possession. He is not at all happy about this, and it’s clear to see that it had been taken from him.
Before Callan can do anything, someone curses behind her at the table. “Ah heck, that’s my kid, hold on-” And before she can so much as blink, a Squishy strides off past her towards the two.
She watches, mystified, as they kneel and work to correct their child’s behavior; they hold their hand out for the ball expectantly, and when they receive it they turn towards Kadren with a beaming smile, handing it over to his eager hands. “There you go, buddy! You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”
Kadren whistles, happy and appeased. Callan stares, dumbfounded.
The parent looks up. She and they lock eyes.
“Oh, hey! You must be their grandmother!”
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Up to now, Callan had been under the assumption that, throughout the years, Kalmari hadn’t really changed. She couldn’t be blamed for assuming such a thing, because Kalmari had been this way longer than anyone could remember. Cautious, conservative, and fearful, much like plenty of other towns and cities on West Nova.
As it turns out, Callan is very wrong about this.
Seated at the picnic table among a hodgepodge of parents who had practically ushered her in, Callan obtains a firsthand account of what’s been happening in Kalmari amidst a flurry of questions.
Bate is a bit of a celebrity around here, she discovers. Kalmari is peaceful, but Demon Beasts were an unfortunate fact of life anywhere one went. Bate, their mailman, had a particular knack for felling the monsters and keeping the town safe. There’s not a person on the entire peninsula that hasn’t been saved by him at this point, one of the parents laughs. It’s impossible not to admire him for it.
Callan attempts to answer their questions as best she can when they ask her of him. They don’t know a lot about him for as long as he’s been here. She doesn’t know much about him either, though, and she is apologetic she can’t be of more help. It’s fine, though; they’re incredibly happy just to meet another member of Ellie’s family, one says, and they spend ages just introducing themselves and talking about their children.
It’s all…rather surreal, she feels. Surely, it ought to be a trick, barbs hidden behind lovely words that she can’t yet parse. But no, she finds, it very much is not. Little Kadren comes up to the picnic table at least three times over the course of her chat, and not once does anyone say anything or make a face that suggests anything untowards.
“Do you know why he chirps like that?” Someone asks her.
“It is his father’s native tongue,” Callan replies.
“Really? It sounds so cute!”
They adore him.
What had happened? What had caused such change? She doesn’t understand it. Has it always been this way?
How, she wonders, could an entire town change when her own husband could not?
She doesn’t know.
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She and the children end up staying out longer than Callan means for them to. It’s her fault for underestimating their needs and limits. She had wanted to drop by the town proper to perhaps purchase them a little treat for being such angels at the park. Perhaps speak with a few locals and immerse herself in the town gossip.
She’d not expected just how much reception she would get upon her arrival, nor the enthusiasm with which so many of the passing residents and shopkeepers greeted her. She’d not expected anyone to greet her grandbabies as if they were little celebrities - and for one of the shop owners to lend her a double stroller when the twins began to tantrum in a fit of exhaustion.
“Anything for the family of Kalmari’s protector, if you ask me,” The shopkeeper had chuffed. “I think Ellie’s been needing a new stroller anyhow.”
They help Callan put the children up and strap them in. They show her how to work the device and where to put their backpacks. Before they leave, they even give her a few snacks - for the little ones to enjoy, and a welcoming gift for herself.
They hadn’t needed to do all of that. Les wouldn’t have.
Something inside Callan’s throat squeezes painfully as she makes the journey back home.
It’s a bit of explaining to do, later that evening long after she’s returned and just after Bate has come home from work. One can’t exactly wave away a whole new stroller sitting by the door and she’s a little sheepish about the whole ordeal, but he takes it in good humor and just smiles.
“Yeah, toddlers are a handful,” He says in a chuckle, “They take some work. Not a big deal, though, glad everything went well!”
Callan nods absently without speaking. There is much on her mind and she can’t…quite shake it.
She watches Bate sit and play with his children on the living room floor from her place on the sofa, out of the way. He laughs and blows raspberries at the two children as they attempt to clamor over him, one on his head and another hanging mightily off of a wing. They laugh and giggle, squeal and chirp, with no fear and no distrust. He manhandles them incredibly gently, a childish sort of wrestling that they can only squeal and kick at.
There is a part of her that, not long ago, had been tempted to ask Estella why she and her family hadn’t moved. Kalmari did not welcome outsiders, and the fact that Estella would remain there with her husband for this long brought some confusion.
The fact was that…Bate cared. Cared enough to defend the town from demon beasts, to rescue others whose lives were in danger, to put his own life on the line. Even when they’d reviled him and hadn’t deserved it.
They had seen who he was beyond his appearance. Les hadn’t.
She hadn’t.
Callan swallows the knot in her throat.
Estella arrives home eventually. The children react as they always have at the sight of their mother, scrambling and sprinting to see her and leaving their father forgotten. He stands as Estella scoops the children up, cooing her greetings and peppering them with kisses.
“Everything went alright?” She asks, “Nothing crazy?”
“They were wonderful,” Callan tells her, “Though I may have underestimated the fierceness of a young child’s temper. Next time I believe I’ll bring a stroller.”
Estella glances at her husband. Bate smiles reassuringly as he stands and the tension in her shoulders eases.
Callan remains seated and silent as the two share a quick kiss, her chest heavy with a tension she doesn’t know how to name. What words they speak pass over her in a haze, their actions unnoticed and their conversation unheard. Her mind buzzes loudly with the dredges of thoughts and conversations from earlier in the day, filling her with a disquiet that’s almost too much to bear.
Eventually, Estella takes her leave with both children in tow. Eventually, it’s only Bate and Callan left in the living room.
Eventually, Callan stands.
Bate turns his head to find his mother-in-law far closer than she had been a few minutes ago. For a long, agonizing moment she just stares at him, her expression pensive and unreadable. Taking him in.
“Thank you.”
Bate blinks.
“Ah…?”
What can she say, Callan wonders? What can she say to this man to convey just how she feels, to show him what she means? She had never reviled Kade once for who he was or his appearance, but Bate had not had that same luxury. She had been no better than her husband and she would never be able to take that back. And still, Bate had been so generous and kind, after everything.
“Thank you,” She says again, earnestly, emotionally, because if she doesn’t speak now then she may say nothing at all. “For…everything. Everything you’ve done, for my daughter and this town. Everything you continue to do, for your children. For me, who has never deserved such a kindness from you after how I’ve treated you. Everyone in this town loves you so much, I’ve discovered today - well they should, for all that you’ve done to help them and how kind you are. What right do I have to such kindness after my own actions against you?”
Does this make sense? Does she sound sane? Callan is usually so articulated, and yet the words come out like an avalanche, disorganized and hasty. She takes a breath in order to reorient herself, but it does little to help.
“I’ve never shown you gratitude before, when you deserved to hear it, so please let me tell you now, even if you don’t believe a word I say.” She breathes. “Thank you. And… I am. So, so sorry. For how I’ve treated you. Kadren does not deserve such ills, and neither do you, Bate. You are a good man - a wonderful man - and I am so very honored to have you as my son-in-law. Estella could not have done better.”
How she acts next is so very impolite. So very improper for someone who ought not to care for her, but in this small second Callan cannot think about that. She can only act on her emotions and beg forgiveness later.
Callan leans forward, arms outstretched, and draws Bate into an embrace. What emotions she tries to convey through this, even she doesn’t know, but she dearly hopes that Bate understands as she feels him stiffen under the touch.
“I will never be able to take back what I’ve done, I know. I know I still have…much to learn. But I promise - I will be better. As long as that takes. Thank you, Bate. You are more worthy of my daughter than anyone can imagine.”
It isn’t enough, Callan thinks to herself. Words will never be enough, in the end. Not after everything she’s done, the people she’s almost lost.
But as the moments tick by, long enough to feel like eternity itself, Callan begins to feel Bate slowly, tentatively, quietly respond. A press of arms, returning her embrace as gently as he’s able. A pair of wings, quietly stretching to envelop her in a veil of shade and warmth as the tension slowly eases from his frame.
Words will never be enough.
But they are a start. And this time, Callan will do things right.
Not too long ago Callan had been attending a lovely art exhibition, admiring intricately crafted frames of crystal work with a few lady companions who she had considered rather droll but hadn’t the heart to refuse. She had been planning for a luncheon thereafter, a pleasant meeting by which she might encourage some of them to gossip about the latest business ventures of their partners and loved ones. It was rather part and parcel for her, but all together quite enjoyable.
Things had been much simpler then. There was no stress, no need to worry, no need to think about the less pristine details of her life. She could enjoy what it offered her and think little more beyond it.
Rather foolish, when she thought of it that way. There was no avoiding her husband, nor his actions. Not forever. Not after what he had done.
“You know what to do if one of the kids gets into a fight, right?”
“Calmly separate them and tell them about gentle hands.”
She could have planned her affairs better, perhaps. There had been no need to take flight from her estates as though she were being chased out of the city. She was excellent at planning meticulously; she could have just waited until a property was available for purchase. Or had something built. That would have worked.
But that would require time. And she had wasted quite enough time already.
“There are snacks in their backpacks. If they get hungry, they can have some apple slices and veggie sticks and some juice. Try not to give them everything because they might not want dinner, but I won’t complain if they insist.”
“Of course, dear, I will make sure of it.”
Kalmari Town certainly is peaceful. Callan couldn’t say she knew all too much about it, but from her precious few visits, it never seemed to be any different no matter how many times she came by. Shopkeepers sold their wares, people went about their days. The forest in the distance contented itself with growing its trees and the sea brushed the shores. Occasionally a new building appeared, and occasionally another toppled over, ruined by some weather event or other.
Everything seemed to march on in the same idyllic way, day after day and year after year, with just enough variation to keep life perhaps mildly interesting. Callan’s hasty arrival wouldn't have been even a blip on the radar.
It had not been her intention to uproot the lives of her daughter's family when she had arrived on their doorstep. It hadn’t been her intention to impose upon them, for she hadn’t deserved anything. Truthfully, after all was said and done and the tears were spilled and apologies made, she had fully expected them to turn her away. It would be the least she deserved after everything.
But their generosity knew no bounds, it seemed, and the knowledge of her separation from her husband must have shaken them badly. Badly enough that, after much private consultation, Bate had returned to the living room and quietly, tentatively, offered her a place to stay. Just temporarily, until she had her bearings.
Callan could not imagine the strength it must have taken to do that. Callan could not have been more endlessly grateful for it.
“And you know to call me if anything happens. I mean it; anything at all.”
“Absolutely. I will have my phone on me at all times, you have my word.”
Estella taps a hand to her chin, staring down at the floor in thought. Callan, in front of her, allows her the silence to think without interruption. Instead, she casts her gaze across the home, from the entryway to the kitchen she had tidied up just yesterday to the freshly cleaned floors of the living room sparsely decorated with toys. Callan had picked them up earlier, but children didn’t care about tidiness when they were bored.
Neither Bate nor Estella had wanted any financial assistance when it came to purchasing amenities for her new room. Callan couldn’t exactly help the man of the house haul all of the junk out of the room either. Although keeping the home tidy was certainly not her usual fare - she did still somewhat miss her housekeeping - she was more than willing to do anything to repay their kindness.
It also, she thought, gave her ample opportunity to spend more time with her grandbabies. Grandbabies who were currently dressed in little backpacks and sitting on the floor beside her, waiting to go out for a fun time at the park.
Estella follows her gaze with a pensive expression on her face. Letting Callan watch them while she was gone hadn’t been her first choice - there had always been one parent present with the children, no matter how much Callan minded them both. But Estella is a nurse, and nurses don’t often have the luxury of a set schedule. A schedule conflict with Bate’s work was bound to come up eventually.
Kadren chirps quietly, glancing between them and leaning his little self against Callan’s side. She coos automatically, reaching down to pet the top of his precious little head. He’s got little rubber caps on his talons now, which Callan thinks is quite adorable - they didn’t need a repeat incident of last time.
Estella sighs. “Don’t…make me regret this.”
“You have my word, Estella.”
Estella’s expression twitches. She says nothing.
The goodbyes are spoken, with plenty of kisses and sweet words to go around. Estella takes a little more time than she perhaps ought to, which Callan does not point out. Finally, however, it is time to leave, and with one last wave, Estella sets off.
Now, it is just Callan and the little ones.
She looks down at Kadren and Emma, two little dumplings who look back at her with big eyes and mystified expressions, full of strange thoughts that only toddlers might understand. Again, not for the first time, she wonders to herself how Les could have thought to differentiate the two so. She didn’t understand.
She loves them so very much.
“Well then?” She says brightly. “How about we get going!”
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Callan has not actually left the house since her arrival a few weeks ago.
She ambles along the worn dirt path with steps that lag more than they ought to. Partly, this is the children’s doing, as their backpacks are hooked to little leashes that allow them the freedom to toddle and run. More than once are they distracted, whether by a shiny rock or a stray bug in the grass. More than once do they attempt to run ahead, causing her to have to gently wrangle them back which, for an older woman such as herself, is quite a workout.
Around them, the land stretches blanketed by a carpet of grass, peppered through with the occasional presence of trees. Flowers grow, and above the sun shines warmly on their backs, lighting the way. It isn’t something Callan is familiar with and she takes more time than she should simply admiring the scenery as her grandchildren entertain themselves.
Les hadn’t enjoyed staying in Kalmari longer than was necessary. Callan hadn’t either, perhaps, but had Estella asked - and she had asked - Callan wouldn’t have minded at least going out to eat.
But Les would never entertain such a thing. He had barely tolerated Bate’s presence in the privacy of Bate’s own home. Going out in public, where others could see, in a conservative town like Kalmari? Unthinkable.
And Kadren is his father’s spitting image.
Callan hesitates.
She looks over at the child, toddling along a step head with his sister, and then up. Further down the path, the shape of a playground has begun to solidify, inching further and further into view with each step. A quick listen tells her that it’s busy, full of squealing and laughter. Distant, but growing ever so loud the closer they get.
Kalmari is a conservative town. They didn’t like outsiders and never had, much like many other places in West Nova. She had always known that offhandedly, in the way someone knew the color of the sky or how the wind felt. She’d never thought of it much. Only now is she realizing what it means.
Something in her churns as she feels Kadren and Emma begin to tug hard at the sight of the park ahead. Her feet dig into the ground in a blind moment of panic, but the children are strong and won’t be deterred. They pull and she goes along with them and there’s nothing she can do about it.
The park isn’t very big. It’s a lovely, quaint spot for visitors to relax, with a few winding paths, some benches and trees, and not far from the Bate family house, about ten minutes. There are two playgrounds, Callan sees, scattered across the property. One sits a fair distance away, populated by school-age children. The other one sits nestled right along the path, cordoned off from the park by a league of fencing that surrounds it, and it’s here that the twins pull her.
The noise is almost deafening at this distance, Callan thinks, and it’s easy to see why. Youngsters about Kadren and Emma’s age run wild, unhindered by their parents with the fence to keep them contained. Several clamor about the equipment, climbing little stairs and sliding down little slides. Some dig in the dirt several feet away, while still others play chase. It’s a veritable mess of loud, childish chaos, and all around benches and tables sit occupied by parents there to keep an eye on them as they play.
All of them are Squishies.
Callan stares. Every nerve in her body buzzes with some sort of restless, hot-cold sensation, and for a second doesn’t know what to do, how to act, caught on the fringe of an emotion that feels almost like fear, and yet is far from it.
She had sworn to Estella that she would never let anything happen to Kadren ever again. She intended to keep that promise. If, so help her, anyone here had the gall to treat her grandson the same way Les had…
Emma and Kadren tug violently against the leashes in Callan’s hold. Emma yells, quite loudly.
Well, she didn’t know what she was going to do. But she would be certain to make it everyone’s problem.
With the children practically biting at her heels, Callan makes haste opening the gate and stepping through. She works quickly once they’re inside; backpacks are taken off, one of them opened to procure a teal ball which is set into her grandson’s eager hands. And then, tired of waiting, the children finally run off, and Callan goes to find a bench on which to rest her weary self.
She can’t help sagging a little bit against the backrest once she’s finally seated. It’s exhausting work, as it turns out, managing and redirecting the force of a young one’s energy. Seeing how the two bound around the equipment throwing their ball every which way, she’s not certain how she would’ve managed had she had to hold onto them much longer.
Callan watches them with an air of weary contentment. Many times she’s second guessed herself during weaker moments, times when the severity of her actions weigh a little too heavy on the mind. But her grandchildren were everything to her, no matter how the mind wandered and questioned. Seeing them here, so happy and carefree, being able to see them at all, is a blessing that she would forever be grateful for. There would never be anything better.
Les is a fool, she thinks, for refusing it.
Callan is happy to watch her grandchildren and let the time pass them by. How long she does that, she isn’t sure. But the playground is noisy, filled with the laughter and screaming of children and, in the background, the talk of parents. It is, of course, grossly impolite to eavesdrop, but then Callan has never been one to miss a bit of gossip.
Not when they are sitting right behind her, and certainly not when they are talking about her family.
“Is that Kade and Emma, over there?”
“Looks like it. Man, it’s like the two grow another inch every time you look at them…”
“Yeah. I wonder if Kade’s flying now…? Can he fly at this age?”
“Dunno, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Gosh, those wings are getting so big.”
Callan twitches.
“Aww, look at those claws of his! They have little caps on, oh my goodness? That’s so cute! I think that’s the first time I’ve seen anything like that on him…”
“Accident, I guess. I just really hope none of the other kids try to take one of them off.”
“Sounds like he’s still tweeting.”
“I know, right? It’s so adorable to listen to; I still don’t know how he does it.”
Callan listens quietly without turning her head as the others talk among themselves, staring ahead blankly. Their conversation wanders, in the way conversations do, and it’s nothing special, really. Kade looks so much like Bate, doesn’t he, someone says. He’s such a round, sweet little fellow, goes someone else.
They gush about him - and his sister, of course - as though he were a little celebrity. Not that Callan is complaining, because they are all quite correct and he ought to be a little celebrity. But that’s just the thing, isn’t it?
They’re gushing about him.
No insults. No barbs. No thinly veiled comments alluding to their distaste for his existence. They afford her grandson the basic dignity of respect and kindness, and there is nothing she can hear within the layers of their words or the tones of their voices that would suggest otherwise.
It’s far more than his own grandfather has ever given him. Callan’s heart aches at the thought.
As she ponders on these discoveries, a familiar cry catches her attention and causes her to look over. Kadren, out by a swing set, is currently seated on the ground, making a grabbing motion towards another child who has his ball in their possession. He is not at all happy about this, and it’s clear to see that it had been taken from him.
Before Callan can do anything, someone curses behind her at the table. “Ah heck, that’s my kid, hold on-” And before she can so much as blink, a Squishy strides off past her towards the two.
She watches, mystified, as they kneel and work to correct their child’s behavior; they hold their hand out for the ball expectantly, and when they receive it they turn towards Kadren with a beaming smile, handing it over to his eager hands. “There you go, buddy! You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”
Kadren whistles, happy and appeased. Callan stares, dumbfounded.
The parent looks up. She and they lock eyes.
“Oh, hey! You must be their grandmother!”
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Up to now, Callan had been under the assumption that, throughout the years, Kalmari hadn’t really changed. She couldn’t be blamed for assuming such a thing, because Kalmari had been this way longer than anyone could remember. Cautious, conservative, and fearful, much like plenty of other towns and cities on West Nova.
As it turns out, Callan is very wrong about this.
Seated at the picnic table among a hodgepodge of parents who had practically ushered her in, Callan obtains a firsthand account of what’s been happening in Kalmari amidst a flurry of questions.
Bate is a bit of a celebrity around here, she discovers. Kalmari is peaceful, but Demon Beasts were an unfortunate fact of life anywhere one went. Bate, their mailman, had a particular knack for felling the monsters and keeping the town safe. There’s not a person on the entire peninsula that hasn’t been saved by him at this point, one of the parents laughs. It’s impossible not to admire him for it.
Callan attempts to answer their questions as best she can when they ask her of him. They don’t know a lot about him for as long as he’s been here. She doesn’t know much about him either, though, and she is apologetic she can’t be of more help. It’s fine, though; they’re incredibly happy just to meet another member of Ellie’s family, one says, and they spend ages just introducing themselves and talking about their children.
It’s all…rather surreal, she feels. Surely, it ought to be a trick, barbs hidden behind lovely words that she can’t yet parse. But no, she finds, it very much is not. Little Kadren comes up to the picnic table at least three times over the course of her chat, and not once does anyone say anything or make a face that suggests anything untowards.
“Do you know why he chirps like that?” Someone asks her.
“It is his father’s native tongue,” Callan replies.
“Really? It sounds so cute!”
They adore him.
What had happened? What had caused such change? She doesn’t understand it. Has it always been this way?
How, she wonders, could an entire town change when her own husband could not?
She doesn’t know.
--------------------------------------------------------------
She and the children end up staying out longer than Callan means for them to. It’s her fault for underestimating their needs and limits. She had wanted to drop by the town proper to perhaps purchase them a little treat for being such angels at the park. Perhaps speak with a few locals and immerse herself in the town gossip.
She’d not expected just how much reception she would get upon her arrival, nor the enthusiasm with which so many of the passing residents and shopkeepers greeted her. She’d not expected anyone to greet her grandbabies as if they were little celebrities - and for one of the shop owners to lend her a double stroller when the twins began to tantrum in a fit of exhaustion.
“Anything for the family of Kalmari’s protector, if you ask me,” The shopkeeper had chuffed. “I think Ellie’s been needing a new stroller anyhow.”
They help Callan put the children up and strap them in. They show her how to work the device and where to put their backpacks. Before they leave, they even give her a few snacks - for the little ones to enjoy, and a welcoming gift for herself.
They hadn’t needed to do all of that. Les wouldn’t have.
Something inside Callan’s throat squeezes painfully as she makes the journey back home.
It’s a bit of explaining to do, later that evening long after she’s returned and just after Bate has come home from work. One can’t exactly wave away a whole new stroller sitting by the door and she’s a little sheepish about the whole ordeal, but he takes it in good humor and just smiles.
“Yeah, toddlers are a handful,” He says in a chuckle, “They take some work. Not a big deal, though, glad everything went well!”
Callan nods absently without speaking. There is much on her mind and she can’t…quite shake it.
She watches Bate sit and play with his children on the living room floor from her place on the sofa, out of the way. He laughs and blows raspberries at the two children as they attempt to clamor over him, one on his head and another hanging mightily off of a wing. They laugh and giggle, squeal and chirp, with no fear and no distrust. He manhandles them incredibly gently, a childish sort of wrestling that they can only squeal and kick at.
There is a part of her that, not long ago, had been tempted to ask Estella why she and her family hadn’t moved. Kalmari did not welcome outsiders, and the fact that Estella would remain there with her husband for this long brought some confusion.
The fact was that…Bate cared. Cared enough to defend the town from demon beasts, to rescue others whose lives were in danger, to put his own life on the line. Even when they’d reviled him and hadn’t deserved it.
They had seen who he was beyond his appearance. Les hadn’t.
She hadn’t.
Callan swallows the knot in her throat.
Estella arrives home eventually. The children react as they always have at the sight of their mother, scrambling and sprinting to see her and leaving their father forgotten. He stands as Estella scoops the children up, cooing her greetings and peppering them with kisses.
“Everything went alright?” She asks, “Nothing crazy?”
“They were wonderful,” Callan tells her, “Though I may have underestimated the fierceness of a young child’s temper. Next time I believe I’ll bring a stroller.”
Estella glances at her husband. Bate smiles reassuringly as he stands and the tension in her shoulders eases.
Callan remains seated and silent as the two share a quick kiss, her chest heavy with a tension she doesn’t know how to name. What words they speak pass over her in a haze, their actions unnoticed and their conversation unheard. Her mind buzzes loudly with the dredges of thoughts and conversations from earlier in the day, filling her with a disquiet that’s almost too much to bear.
Eventually, Estella takes her leave with both children in tow. Eventually, it’s only Bate and Callan left in the living room.
Eventually, Callan stands.
Bate turns his head to find his mother-in-law far closer than she had been a few minutes ago. For a long, agonizing moment she just stares at him, her expression pensive and unreadable. Taking him in.
“Thank you.”
Bate blinks.
“Ah…?”
What can she say, Callan wonders? What can she say to this man to convey just how she feels, to show him what she means? She had never reviled Kade once for who he was or his appearance, but Bate had not had that same luxury. She had been no better than her husband and she would never be able to take that back. And still, Bate had been so generous and kind, after everything.
“Thank you,” She says again, earnestly, emotionally, because if she doesn’t speak now then she may say nothing at all. “For…everything. Everything you’ve done, for my daughter and this town. Everything you continue to do, for your children. For me, who has never deserved such a kindness from you after how I’ve treated you. Everyone in this town loves you so much, I’ve discovered today - well they should, for all that you’ve done to help them and how kind you are. What right do I have to such kindness after my own actions against you?”
Does this make sense? Does she sound sane? Callan is usually so articulated, and yet the words come out like an avalanche, disorganized and hasty. She takes a breath in order to reorient herself, but it does little to help.
“I’ve never shown you gratitude before, when you deserved to hear it, so please let me tell you now, even if you don’t believe a word I say.” She breathes. “Thank you. And… I am. So, so sorry. For how I’ve treated you. Kadren does not deserve such ills, and neither do you, Bate. You are a good man - a wonderful man - and I am so very honored to have you as my son-in-law. Estella could not have done better.”
How she acts next is so very impolite. So very improper for someone who ought not to care for her, but in this small second Callan cannot think about that. She can only act on her emotions and beg forgiveness later.
Callan leans forward, arms outstretched, and draws Bate into an embrace. What emotions she tries to convey through this, even she doesn’t know, but she dearly hopes that Bate understands as she feels him stiffen under the touch.
“I will never be able to take back what I’ve done, I know. I know I still have…much to learn. But I promise - I will be better. As long as that takes. Thank you, Bate. You are more worthy of my daughter than anyone can imagine.”
It isn’t enough, Callan thinks to herself. Words will never be enough, in the end. Not after everything she’s done, the people she’s almost lost.
But as the moments tick by, long enough to feel like eternity itself, Callan begins to feel Bate slowly, tentatively, quietly respond. A press of arms, returning her embrace as gently as he’s able. A pair of wings, quietly stretching to envelop her in a veil of shade and warmth as the tension slowly eases from his frame.
Words will never be enough.
But they are a start. And this time, Callan will do things right.
-The End-
Artist Comment:
February 5, 2025
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I always draw my characters hugging, but lemme just say this particular hug is VERY meaningful. If you know anything about Ellie's parent's you'd know how they feel about her being with an outsider- aka, Bate. Callan is surprised how much Kalmari has changed. A once very conservative town has now welcomed outsiders of many kinds. And Callan finds out it's all because of Bate. (And Gordon too, but we're focusing on Bate in this story, lol)
SOME VERY IMPORTANT INFO!!!
If you haven't read this story, then you probably won't really understand what's happening. The story above takes place maybe a year, or around 6 months after said incident with Kade. Callan made the extremely hard decision to leave Les. (Fanfic coming eventually!) She traveled to Kalmari to beg for forgiveness to Bate and Ellie. After discussing it, they both allowed her to stay with them for the time being- Bate fixed up a room for her, and Ellie purchased some furniture, and amenities for her.
The life she lived in the city compared to Kalmari Town is a HUGE shift. Kalmari is very simplistic, rustic, rural, while the city is fast, loud and cutthroat. There are times where she'll miss her old life, but her grand-babies makes the change worth it. She loves her grand-babies SO much, and the story above is the first time she'll be taking them out! 8D To prevent the same incident with Emma and Kade, Bate decided to put little rubber caps on Kade's talons. Strangely enough, this wasn't the first time someone thought of that idea. (Though, it was a cork topper, but same thing. XD )
Callan learns a lot, especially about Bate. Hearing all the stories and locals praising him, she feels terrible how she treated him in the past. Once Bate returns home, Callan thanks Bate for everything. Unlike Les, she wants to change. She wants to be part of their lives, and sees Bate as more than worthy of her daughter.
Bate is always willing to give others a second chance, and Callan couldn't be more grateful for it. This is probably the first real time she's hugged him. There's was one other time she hugged him, but that was where he saved her from the volcanic irruption. That hug was just out of gratefulness. This one is out of pure love- she truly accepts him as her son-in-law now.
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I had a hard time choosing what drawing I should use for it. I'll pose the others that didn't make the cut below.
February 5, 2025
-----------------
I always draw my characters hugging, but lemme just say this particular hug is VERY meaningful. If you know anything about Ellie's parent's you'd know how they feel about her being with an outsider- aka, Bate. Callan is surprised how much Kalmari has changed. A once very conservative town has now welcomed outsiders of many kinds. And Callan finds out it's all because of Bate. (And Gordon too, but we're focusing on Bate in this story, lol)
SOME VERY IMPORTANT INFO!!!
If you haven't read this story, then you probably won't really understand what's happening. The story above takes place maybe a year, or around 6 months after said incident with Kade. Callan made the extremely hard decision to leave Les. (Fanfic coming eventually!) She traveled to Kalmari to beg for forgiveness to Bate and Ellie. After discussing it, they both allowed her to stay with them for the time being- Bate fixed up a room for her, and Ellie purchased some furniture, and amenities for her.
The life she lived in the city compared to Kalmari Town is a HUGE shift. Kalmari is very simplistic, rustic, rural, while the city is fast, loud and cutthroat. There are times where she'll miss her old life, but her grand-babies makes the change worth it. She loves her grand-babies SO much, and the story above is the first time she'll be taking them out! 8D To prevent the same incident with Emma and Kade, Bate decided to put little rubber caps on Kade's talons. Strangely enough, this wasn't the first time someone thought of that idea. (Though, it was a cork topper, but same thing. XD )
Callan learns a lot, especially about Bate. Hearing all the stories and locals praising him, she feels terrible how she treated him in the past. Once Bate returns home, Callan thanks Bate for everything. Unlike Les, she wants to change. She wants to be part of their lives, and sees Bate as more than worthy of her daughter.
Bate is always willing to give others a second chance, and Callan couldn't be more grateful for it. This is probably the first real time she's hugged him. There's was one other time she hugged him, but that was where he saved her from the volcanic irruption. That hug was just out of gratefulness. This one is out of pure love- she truly accepts him as her son-in-law now.
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I had a hard time choosing what drawing I should use for it. I'll pose the others that didn't make the cut below.
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The amazing literature written for this illustration was written by my good friend, Dogblog. (dA- Shadowrealmprincess) ^v^ Their half of an art trade~ It's always an honor getting my stories and ideas written by them! ^v^
Species © Nintendo/ HAL Laboratory
Interpreted characters created from said species © Rhylem
Interpreted characters created from said species © Rhylem
