Bean

Chapter 8: The Birthday Bean

As summer sunshine gave way to autumn breezes, Bean settled nicely into his father's secluded little world. Life was now a routine of sorts, and things that had seemed so terrifying to L at first weren't so much anymore.

Bean, quite understandably, still cried sometimes missing his mama. L just held him and let the tears fall, wishing he could make the hurt go away; but even he knew that there was a place in the little boy's heart that would always ache for his mother. It helped to let him look at Anya's pictures. He loved pointing at Anya's belly in the photo where she was pregnant and saying "There I am!" L figured Anya must have pointed to the photo at one point or another and said "There you are!" because Bean did it every single time he saw the photo.

Watari worried about L too, and how all of this was affecting him. He asked about it one evening as L stepped out of Bean's bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him. He was holding the envelope of Anya's photos in one hand.

"How are you doing, L?" Watari asked in a fatherly tone.

"He's sleeping now," L responded simply.

Watari nodded. "Yes, but... how are you?"

"Oh." L briefly looked surprised, then shrugged. "I'm fine. It's a lot to get used to," he answered honestly.

Watari sighed. He was unsure how to present his next concern. He went on, carefully choosing his words. "I imagine this is difficult for you," he said slowly. "If you'd ever like to talk, you know I'm here. About Bean, or... or about her."

L looked down at the envelope in his hand and then up at Watari. The old man stood with a sincere expression and his hands folded in front of him.

"Thank you, Watari," L said quietly. And, saying nothing more, he moved to the desk to continue with his detective work.

Stepping up into the swivel chair, L carefully returned the envelope to the desk drawer. He knew he couldn't keep Bennett from remembering his mother, even if it did cause a painful ache to settle deep within his chest. In truth, it was difficult for him. Remembering her. But his logic far outweighed his emotions, and the fact remained that the little boy that he had come to love more than anything was their son. Bean, and therefore Anya, would now always be a part of his life.

One particular night, when L was putting Bean in bed, the small boy asked innocently, "Papa, did you know Mama?"

L stared at the child. "Bean, you know that I'm your..."

Bean just looked at him, sitting up with his hands folded on top of the comforter and his head tipped questioningly.

L sighed. "Yes, I knew her."

Bean reached out and tugged at L's white shirt sleeve, wanting him to sit down on the bed. "Will you tell me a story about her?" he asked hopefully.

L had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. "A story about your Mama..." he said slowly. He climbed up and sat crouched on the bed facing the headboard. He rested his hands on his knees and looked down at his small son.

Bean shimmed down under the covers and pulled them up under his arms.

"Well," L began thoughtfully. "One time, she and I were arguing over something..."

"Why were you arguing?"

L lifted bony shoulders in a shrug. "I don't remember. I only recall her being very insistent that she was right." He lifted his thumb to his teeth and looked down at the mattress before him. "She was very stubborn," he said quietly, and something like a smile played with the edges of his mouth.