𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

41 - Surprises.

Her mama always reminded Claire of the color blue.

The four year old still didn’t know what the somber color meant to others—not because it was too subtle for her to notice—but it was merely because the color blue reminded her of the eventful tickle fights after each discovery of her hiding spot (the one behind that large vase Elsa kept behind a column because her mama loved daisies) or the double chocolate chip cookies they would bake together. Especially the way she would hold the little girl close because it’s been a tiring day dealing with work.

But the color blue didn’t seem so friendly today. And Claire was just about to add the finishing touches to the drawing between her hands—that is, if she could. The sky can’t be gray, and it can’t be green either, or any other particular colors in mind. That’d be strange.

Now blue was just being mean.

Claire wasn’t sure if that was the right word for it, as tears escaped her eyes in misery. The child huffed in frustration and wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. It was hard enough seeing Bella get picked up by Mrs. Harris after school, and of course she couldn’t bear any longer when she saw Lucas eating ice cream with his mother.

She knew her mama is an important person. Her job was just as essential, the young child had always kept that in mind. From what the little girl knew, her mother’s work was associated with pretty dresses, the one her mama points out from the television on rare occasions, but Claire remembers, whenever she would curl up close against her mama in her favorite spot in the couch.

Claire could only do her part and understand. Her mother is only chasing time herself, so she could go play dress-up with her, so she could play hide and seek with her, bake cookies and sneak from the unfinished batter, so she could go spend time with her more—

But how did her dear, dear mother even consider letting a little girl’s poor heart cope with almost two full weeks of her absence?

A low purr perked the silence in the room.

She tore her watery gaze from her little desk and found the friendly Persian slinking around the leg of her chair. The cat’s beady orbs met hers, whilst her lips curled into a small smile upon seeing the white feline’s visit. Her tears now somehow drying, Claire picked up her new companion with ease and petted its fuzzy head as she nestled him on her lap.

“Hey there Olaf,” she giggles softly, “What are you doing here?”

Of course, Olaf was only capable enough to respond with a meow, yet the young girl still found his presence endearing. “I’m really bored too. Auntie Anna and Uncle Kristoff are doing some work, so you’re the only one around.”

Olaf blinked languidly, the sensation of the child’s fingers combing his fur making him yawn. Claire sensed her friend’s exhaustion and hoisted the cat higher in her arms, careful to not squeeze his midsection.

“Do you have a mama, Olaf?”

Olaf was too tempted to sleep to respond. Claire sighed but kept her grasp around the cat. Perhaps Olaf was still listening, regardless of his drooping lids; he always made great company. “I have a mama too. Although she’s really far away right now. Where’s yours?”

The Persian uttered a little noise.

“Oh... That’s sad. I wonder why she left you though. You’re a nice kitty. My other mama—I don’t know if I should call her that, left me somewhere too. But that doesn’t matter. I’m here for you, so you can sleep tight.”

Olaf finally drowned into his slumber. Claire felt it was proper to move to her own bed nearby as she held the feline close to sate her own growing sluggishness, the moisture from her eyes now gone.