The Strays ⎈John B Routledge⎈

Epilogue 2: Winter Wonderland

Epigraph 2: Winter Wonderland

If you think they don't do this on the porch steps ^ you're wrong

~SiriusCatBennett

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In a town filled with rivalry, fishermen, and extravagant events, inches of snow cover the icy ground. Snowflakes are still falling, getting into the hair of two children and a dark-skinned man. One is a bright-eyed, red-faced bouncing three-year-old, hair the lightest shade of blonde and eyes the color of the sea. The other is a mocha-colored two-year-old with chubby little legs and arms and a head full of unruly curls. His eyes are brown just like his father's even though they hold no blood relation. Both boys are squealing in delight, fully intent on getting away from the growling man behind them. 

"I'm gonna getcha." The man says, chasing the boys around with a big grin on his face. His son screeches, trying to run faster but with his chunky little legs, he simply falls into the cushiony snow. His layers upon layers of clothes keep him dry and warm as his father scoops him up from the ground, squeezing him tight as he spins around. "I gotcha." 

The sweet little boy giggles, clinging to his father's jacket as he flies in the air. 

"Unca Pop, chase me." Comes from the ground where the cherub-like three-year-old has come to a stop, a little grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye as he waits for his uncle to continue the game. 

With a little groan, because Mason eats too many cookies, he sets his son on the ground and takes just a second to rest while the boys immediately start running around once again. They completely forget about being chased by Pope Heyward as they chase each other around, throwing snow at one another. The twenty-eight-year-old coroner watches them with a smile as the two flop on the ground and Aster tries to show Mason how to make a snow angel. 

"He's getting so big." 

Turning to look at the person who'd walked out of the house, Pope spotted one Claire Joans Routledge with a pink swathed baby on her hip. The little girl was looking around curiously, head moving around as she tried to figure out what is falling on her face. 

"I know. I swear it's like he was just born yesterday. Can't imagine what it's like for you." 

"I can't wait until you've had Mason for a few years. It's so beautiful watching them grow up." CJ told him, looking at her son fondly while she adjusted the one-year-old on her hip. 

Mason Dakota Heyward had been adopted only three months prior, pulled away from a neglectful home. His name had stayed the same, besides the change of the last; Papa Heyward swore if his grandbabies didn't have his last name, he'd kill someone. Mason was the sweetest little boy, only becoming cranky if he didn't have enough sweets in a day. He loved his parents and there was nothing that even remotely showed he remembered they weren't his biological caregivers. 

"Honestly I'm just worried about him growing up too fast."

Turning to face him, a sweet smile lit up CJ's face as she put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about that right now. Besides, they'll be better off than any of us were. Just love him, he'll be perfectly fine." 

Pope nodded, reached a hand out to stroke Madison's beanie covered light brunette waves. The baby's head abruptly turned to him, looking up at him with wide hazel eyes searching for the cause of her disruption. He made a funny face which made her laugh. 

"I'll try to keep that in mind." 

CJ nodded before turning to look at the boys in the yard. "Boys, come on. It's time to come inside."