Chapter Text
A week passed.
Not fast. Not slow.
Just steady.
It was Avery who suggested it, standing in the kitchen one morning with Ellie on her hip and Kenny tugging at her sleeve.
“They’ve been cooped up,” she said lightly. “I thought maybe the zoo. And—” she hesitated, glancing at Opie, “—Chuck E. Cheese after. If that’s okay.”
Opie blinked. “Both?”
Avery smiled. “I’m brave.”
Kenny whooped. Ellie clapped.
Opie laughed under his breath. “Yeah. Okay.”
The zoo was louder than Opie expected.
Kids ran past them, parents calling after them, animals pacing behind glass and bars. Kenny dragged Opie toward the lions first, Avery following with Ellie balanced on her hip.
“Dad! Look at the mane!” Kenny shouted.
Opie crouched beside him. “Yeah, buddy. He’s big.”
Avery watched them, heart warm in her chest.
“You do this a lot?” Opie asked her quietly as they walked.
“Watch kids fall in love with the world?” she smiled. “Yeah.”
Ellie reached out toward the giraffes, babbling excitedly.
“She likes the tall ones,” Avery said.
Opie snorted. “Figures.”
They shared funnel cake, Avery insisting on napkins and Opie ignoring them. Kenny fed crumbs to pigeons. Ellie fell asleep against Avery’s shoulder.
Opie noticed how naturally Avery shifted her weight to keep Ellie comfortable. How she murmured softly without realizing it.
“How do you do that?” he asked.
Avery glanced at him. “Do what?”
“Make it all… calm.”
She shrugged. “It’s just time. And caring.”
Something settled in Opie’s chest.
The petting zoo smelled like hay and sunshine.
Kenny’s eyes lit up as soon as they stepped inside. “Can we feed them?”
Avery laughed. “Gentle hands.”
Opie took the small cup of feed reluctantly. “They bite?”
“They nibble,” Avery teased.
While Opie was distracted helping Ellie pet a goat, Kenny grinned mischievously and reached up, dumping a handful of feed straight into the back pocket of Opie’s jeans.
“Hey—” Avery started, then caught on and bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Opie took two steps.
Then froze.
“Why are they followin’ me?” he asked, confused.
A goat bumped his leg. Another nudged his hip. A calf let out an eager bleat.
“Dad!” Kenny shouted, doubled over laughing. “They like you!”
Opie turned—and the animals turned with him.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered as the goat shoved its nose directly at his pocket.
Avery laughed openly now, Ellie giggling in her arms as Opie tried—and failed—to outrun a small herd of very determined animals.
“Stop movin’!” Avery called between laughs. “They smell the feed!”
“You think?” Opie barked as a goat tugged at his back pocket.
Kenny finally fessed up, pulling the feed out as Opie jumped away.
Avery laughed so hard she had to sit down, tears in her eyes.
Opie stood there, breathless, hay stuck to his jeans.
“You planned that,” he said accusingly.
Kenny grinned. “Worth it.”
Opie shook his head—but he was smiling.
A real one.
Chuck E. Cheese was chaos.
Lights. Music. Screaming kids.
Opie was pretty sure it was a form of torture.
Avery, somehow, thrived.
She raced Kenny at skee-ball. Let Ellie mash buttons on games she didn’t understand. Laughed when Opie lost at air hockey.
“You let him win,” Opie accused.
Avery grinned. “Maybe.”
They sat at a booth with cheap pizza and paper cups of soda, Ellie smearing sauce on Avery’s sleeve.
“Sorry,” Avery said.
Opie shook his head. “Don’t be.”
He wiped Ellie’s hands automatically, like he’d been doing it his whole life.
Kenny leaned back, happy and tired. “This is the best day.”
Avery’s smile softened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Can we do this again?”
Opie looked at Avery.
She looked back.
“Yeah,” Opie said quietly. “We can.”
On the drive home, Ellie slept in her car seat, clutching her stuffed dinosaur. Kenny hummed softly to himself.
Avery rested her head against the window, eyes half-closed.
“Thank you,” Opie said after a while.
“For what?”
“For today.”
She smiled. “It didn’t feel like work.”
He nodded. “That’s what scares me.”
Avery turned to look at him. “Or maybe that’s what’s right.”
They didn’t touch.
They didn’t have to.
The space between them felt smaller anyway.
Like it was only a matter of time.