#thebearweek

You can’t help laughing, and he looks at you like that’s the prize he came for.

The air smells like hay and fried dough. There’s a kid crying somewhere by the tractor ride, and someone’s selling maple kettle corn out of a red tent. Eva keeps tugging at the sleeve of her denim jacket, like she’s not quite sure what to do with her hands. She’s smaller than you pictured — all long limbs and big eyes, like she’s still growing into herself. When she finally takes your hand to cross the dirt path, it feels tentative, but warm. 

You hadn’t met Eva before today, at least, not officially. She’d been a voice in the background of Richie’s calls, a kid giggling mid-story, asking questions you can’t quite hear. In person, she’s quieter, studying you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

You crouch beside her by the pumpkins, pick one up, smaller than her head. “Think this one’s good for painting?”

She nods. “I like the stem. It’s curly.”

“Good eye,” you say. “You’ve got an artist’s brain.”

She brightens a little, like she wasn’t expecting you to say that. You catch Richie watching from a few feet away, hands in his hoodie pocket, pretending not to melt. When your eyes meet, he gives you that lopsided grin — the one that always looks a little surprised, like he can’t believe you keep showing up.

Later, you all walk through the corn maze. Richie keeps taking wrong turns on purpose, insisting he knows the way. Eva giggles every time he gets you lost.

At one point, you stop to check the map, but he plucks it from your hands dramatically. “Maps are for quitters,” he declares.

“Oh yeah?” you say. “And what’s your method, then?”

“Vibes,” he says. “You just gotta feel the way out.”

Eva’s laugh echoes through the tall stalks, and you think maybe it’s the best sound you’ve heard all day.

You finally end up at the exit, sunlight dripping through the stalks, and he throws an arm around both of you.

“See? Told ya I’d get us out,” he says.

Eva snorts. “Dad, you followed the sign that said exit!”

“Did not,” he says, and looks at you, that quick, proud grin that says he can’t believe you’re here, doing this with him, blending into his life like it’s always been this easy.

You stop for cider and donuts before heading back to the car. Eva insists on carrying the smallest pumpkin, her pumpkin, cradled in both hands like it’s treasure. Richie buys a second cup of cider for you without asking, says, “You didn’t finish the first one,” and when you tell him you don’t need it, he shrugs and says, “Guess I’ll drink another, then.” He does, and grimaces. “Too sweet.”

“Too sweet,” you echo, laughing. “Why do you think I didn’t finish the first one?”

He bumps your shoulder, gentle. “Yeah, yeah, alright, message received.”

“I’ll take it!” Eva pipes up, her voice muffled behind the pumpkin she’s still holding. 

“You’ll be bouncing off the walls till midnight,” Richie says, but he hands her the cup anyway, taking the pumpkin from her before she drops it. 

At the car, Eva falls asleep against the window, face sticky with cider sugar and donut glaze. Richie drives with one hand, the other resting on your thigh. The radio hums low, something old and easy, and the sky outside is fading to amber and violet.

“Thanks for comin’,” he murmurs, softer now. “Means a lot.”

You look at him, his profile cut by the glow of the low afternoon sun, a little tired, but he looks happy. “Thanks for inviting me,” you say, and you really mean it. “It was a good day.”

His eyes meet yours for a brief moment before he turns them back at the road again.

You smile. You glance at the backseat, then back at him. 

“She’s great, Rich.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“You’re a good dad.”

He huffs, embarrassed but glowing. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his fingers tighten slightly on your leg, a quiet thank-you, maybe, or maybe it’s something deeper that doesn’t need words. You’re not sure, but it also doesn’t really matter. 

The trees outside blur gold and red, and you watch them fade into the kind of dusk that makes everything feel softer.

Someone to come home to and share the little moments with. Someone to rant to about how Carmy had been acting like little bitch about the new dishtowels, or how another building downtown has been torn down to be turned into another fucking nightmarish cement parking house. Someone who he could have a laugh with and who would give him a chance to rise above the label of deadbeat loser that the universe seems to have put on him. Someone who could see him for who he truly is. Someone who wouldn’t judge him or think less of him for having sold a little coke from a back alley in a desperate situation. 

Richie will do anything for the people he cares for, so what if his methods are a little unorthodox? He is loyal to the bone and he cares, he fucking cares.      

And that is all he wants, someone to care for. Someone to love and someone to love him. That was all that he dreamed of before, but he had started to lose hope.

But then, when he finally had started to come to terms with the idea that that might never happen, he met you. 

It had all started with a slightly awkward date. He had been quite nervous, way more than he normally was. You just seemed too good to be true, way too good for someone like him anyway. He wanted to give off a good impression so bad that it slightly backfired, or it maybe would have backfired if you weren't you. 

He had been loud and acting confident in a way only a man who’s trying to hide how nervous he actually is can. He had been accidently laughing at his own jokes before the punchline had even landed and stumbling over his own words from time to time, but luckily for him you had found it rather charming. You couldn’t keep the wide smile from spreading on your face as he started rambling about Bill Murray and some old roman goddess. 

He had visibly relaxed after you had declared with a smile that you probably had to give him a call one of these days so you could hear the voicemail from the story, but that you certainly wouldn’t mind if he just happened to pick up the phone.   

He did pick up the phone when you called, and you were not disappointed in the slightest that it was Richie’s voice and not Bill Murray’s that had greeted you.

That first date turned into another, which turned into yet another one and no matter how scared he was that you would suddenly realize how much of a shitshow his life truly is he just didn’t seem to be able to scare you off.  

He’ll be your number one cheerleader, always so proud of you, and he will tell everybody who lets him about you. And he loves to show you off. You are in his opinion way out of his league and he is just so damn proud to have someone as amazing and beautiful as you to call his and to love.

He loves taking pictures of you. Just silly little pictures, you picking up produce at the farmers market or silly little selfies of the two of you as you wait in line at Arby's. He just wants to remember all the nice little moments with you.

He’ll proudly flaunt you on his instagram for all his 36 followers to see (well, 37 now that you follow him)

You will usually try and match your lunch break at work to fit with family at the restaurant. Stepping into the restaurant to be met with a huge smile from Richie is one of the highlights of your day. The staff of the beef are essentially family to him and he is so happy to share you with them. You have become part of that little family and it is more than Richie could ever have dreamt of.

Neither of you are in a rush with your relationship. He is a divorcee with a daughter and you have never had any wild dreams about a wedding or an on paper ‘picture perfect’ relationship with a house and a white picket fence. You just want someone who loves you for exactly who you are and that someone is Richie.

It is about a year into your relationship that you say ‘I love you’ the first time you don’t know if it is late or not but one thing for sure is that the love had been there from early on.

It was four months into your relationship that he had asked you if you would like to meet his daughter and honestly that had been a bigger confession of love than anything else could have been. He loves his daughter more than anything in the world and you know that he would never bring up introducing you to her if it wasn’t because he was serious about you and wanted you as a permanent part of his life.  

You had been a little nervous to meet her, you know how much she means to Richie and you had just really wanted her to like you. You had, however, not been the slightest bit nervous about how you would feel about her, she’s Richie’s little girl after all, a part of him, and you love every part of him. 

Luckily for you, she absolutely adores you, and you adore her. It had meant everything for Richie to know that his baby girl and you were getting along so well. 

It had been on that same night as you had uttered your first ‘I love you’s’ that he had asked you if you wanted to move in together. He had been so happy when you had kissed a ‘yes’ into his lips. 

Living together is everything Richie could ever have dreamt of. Not waking up to an empty bed and knowing that you are at home waiting on him when he comes home from work is like a dream come true.   

He is an early riser, usually you wake up to an empty bed, and even though you sometimes wish you woke up to warm, morning-cuddles it is always made up for by the sight of Richie in the kitchen. He is usually only wearing one of his, seemingly never ending supply of, ‘The Beef’ shirts and a pair of boxers.

His back will be turned to you as he’s in the midst of getting your coffee ready for you. It has become a fixture in your life with Richie, something you wouldn’t give up, even for all the morning-cuddles in the world.

You will sneak up on him and let your arms sneak around him, hugging him tight from behind and he will lean softly back into your embrace.

If he is having a smoke you will pluck the cigarette from his lips and take a few drags as you squish your cheek into his back and slowly let the comforting smell of brewing coffee wake you up. When the cigarette is smoked and ashed into the sink to later be thrown into the ashtray, Richie will turn around, engulfing you in his long, lean arms and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, kissing a ‘good morning’ into your still sleep-warm skin. 

Your relationship with Richie is warm and loving. It doesn’t mean that it is constant smooth sailing, but you always work through the bumps you come across along the road together. That is the true beauty of your relationship with him, the constant reassuring feeling of togetherness.