Ben would hardly have given the boy's mother a second glance, except that she was so clearly uncomfortable. He assumed it had something to do with him (because Ben was not mature enough to consider that not everything was about him). He looked a little more closely at her and realized that she looked familiar, though he couldn't place her right away. It was safe to assume that he'd spent some time flirting with her, and that was why he knew her face. He'd flirted with half the women in magical England, it seemed, before he'd tried to get on the straight and narrow after his marriage.

An old flirtation was old news, though. He didn't even recall her name, so no reason for him to be awkward about it as well. He waved the boy in and the toddler obligingly waddled towards him, arms out — maybe to reach Ben, or maybe just in case of a fall. He didn't seem like he'd been walking on his own that long.

If this was her kid, that explained why she was being so awkward. Presumably that was a development since they'd last spoken; Ben didn't make a habit of chasing married women, though he did still flirt with them in that pandering, unserious sort of way. So it would have been at least a year ago, maybe two...

Thinking back on that era of his life, it suddenly clicked what their interaction had been. It had been much steamier than a mere flirtation. It had happened basically out of nowhere, too — no relationship to speak of, before or after. Remembering brought an immediate blush to Ben's cheeks, but there wasn't anything to do about it now except weather the interaction. He resisted the urge to look around for Melody, as though she might be able to tell just from watching them that this was a woman he'd once slept with.

"Are you excited for Christmas, Elliott?" he asked, voice slightly hoarse.