April 29, 1888 — Ross Family Home, North Bartonburg

While Benjamin and his wife shared a mostly affectionate marriage, the evenings after work were always unpredictable on Benjamin's part. He didn't want to deal with children and any troubles that had plagued the household while he was working — he just wanted to put his feet up and relax. Still, he tried to make an effort to show his wife that he was finally home and he loved her, even if it was difficult to do so.

It took a little more searching to find Clara once he'd arrived home, but finally wound up knocking on her bedroom door after checking the parlor and the children's bedroom. It wasn't yet dark out; he supposed the governess was still taking them for their evening outing, perhaps to check out the latest selection of toys at Denbright's.

After being allowed in, Benjamin's gaze caught onto his wife — specifically her mirroring image — as she stood in front of the Cheval mirror in the far corner of the room. He leaned against the bedpost and raised a brow in greeting.

"You're usually not in your nightdress for another hour or so," he prompted.

Clara Ross

  

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Clara had been feeling a little ill earlier in the day and her maid had suggested that perhaps she retire early. Clara had not been feeling tired not particularly inclined to go to bed before her husband was even home from work but she had found herself complying. Now, she was very much under the personal impression that retiring early had been her idea entirely as she took her hairpins out.

Calling out for her husband to come in, she smiled at him as he leaned against the bedpost. “I was feeling a little ill but I think it has passed now. Then I figured I might as well finish my preparations,” she said as she continued undoing her hair.

  

Mystery, while not at all something he wanted to deal with in the workplace, was something that seemed to pull him in when it came to his wife. She spoke plainly and without any question, without any hints, of her true intention, but it still seemed like there was something to figure out. Did all gentleman get that feeling with their wives?

Humming in acknowledgement, Benjamin crossed the room and approached her from behind. After pressing a light kiss to her shoulder, his hands moved to her hair, where he attempted to help her search for the remaining pins.

"I suppose the children will be eating alone for dinner," he joked, glancing over her shoulder to catch her eye in the mirror. The corners of his eyes squinted as a smile grew on his lips. "I suppose they'll manage — unless they've gotten a new toy or something," he chuckled.

  

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Clara offered a smile to her husband as he kissed her shoulder and proceeded to help her with her hair. "I suppose they will," she agreed readily. It was a little past time for them to be having it anyway but Clara had not been able to help the loss of her appetite and it seemed pointless to sit and just watch her children eat. "I don't believe so but I am not always on hand to see what they purchase with their allowance when the governess takes them out."

  

Benji shook his head. "Let them have their toys," he said softly before finally managing to tug her hair free from the pins. Unfortunately, it sent the little buggers scattering all over the hardwood floors. He glanced down, unamused, before looking back at Clara. "They'll be at Hogwarts before we know it, and then we'll be wishing they were still little." And then Mungo, at least, would be off to work (and perhaps to St. Mungo's, as he secretly hoped).

  

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"Whoops," Clara chuckled as he pins went flying across the floor. "Oh, don't speak of such things. They shall be my little darlings forever." She did love her children, she thought. Though some days she did find herself wondering things about them before finding those thoughts disappearing in favor of other things. "Should we throw a birthday party for Glenna?" She asked curiously.

  

"Not forever, I hope," he said quietly, letting his fingers stroke through the length of her hair while he watched her in the mirror. "Children don't want to be children forever, and I'm sure after ten or fifteen years we'd grow tired of having pattering feet around the house." Children were also exhausting despite his limited involvement in their early lives, but that wasn't something to tell his wife.

"We can if you'd like; I'll see if work can allow it," he murmured.

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"Of course not," Clara chuckled, listening to her husband as he spoke. "It could be pushed to a weekend as well. I'm sure Glenna won't mind." What difference really would it make to a child if their party was held the same day of their actual birth? Besides, weekends made such allowance for start and end times.

  

"Whatever works," Benji said, leaning forward and craning his neck so he could press a kiss to her cheek. He had no doubt that she would agree to whatever he suggested; Clara was among the most agreeable women he knew, and the others worked below him (and likely felt obligated to appease him). With little left to be said, Benji moved away from her and towards the bed, the mere sight of it bringing a wave of exhaustion crashing over him.

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