"Clara?"
"Yes—Clara Johnson. She's a little girl I met in Brooklyn. Fourteen years old this year. The first time I met her, she actually suggested I go make movies—play Captain America."
Steve recalled their first meeting. Being grabbed so roughly by the throat—any other little girl would have burst into tears from sheer terror. But Clara hadn't. Instead, she'd calmly told him that time could wash everything away.
"Oh, that must have been very interesting."
Peggy smiled as she imagined Steve acting as Captain America. Truth be told, no one was more suited to that role than him.
Steve laughed. He really had considered it—if one day he retired, maybe he'd give it a try.
Little by little, Steve told Peggy everything about Clara. From being bullied by street thugs, to Tony Stark's troubles that Christmas…
He didn't even realize the fondness in his smile. Without noticing, he'd already stepped into the role of an elder—watching a child who had withdrawn from the world due to family upheaval slowly become lively and bright again. The quiet joy that filled his heart needed no explanation.
"Howard's… granddaughter…"
Peggy murmured softly when Steve mentioned that Clara believed Tony Stark was her father.
"No—no, that's not it. Even now, we haven't told Clara the truth about her biological father. I just feel that… shattering a child's image of her father as a great man is too cruel."
Steve frowned slightly. He truly didn't know how to handle this.
"Are you planning to hide it from her forever? That would be cruel to her as well."
A biological father who never intended to acknowledge her—whether spoken aloud or not, resentment would inevitably take root.
"Maybe. At least Stark wants to wait until she's an adult before telling her. Romanoff analyzed it—if Clara finds out she isn't Stark's daughter, she'll reject all of his help. Natasha's an expert in psychological profiling, and I agree with her. That child… she's too strong-willed."
Steve knit his brows. Independence was a good thing—but too much of it could easily turn into isolation.
"Did Howard's son ever consider… letting Clara truly become part of the Stark family?"
Steve was surprised Peggy would ask that. She usually saw things more thoroughly than he did.
"You mean adoption? I can't make that decision for him. The Stark family has too much to consider. If… he were just an ordinary man, I'd urge him to adopt Clara without hesitation. Peggy—what do you think about me adopting her?"
The idea burst out of Steve's mouth before he could stop it.
"I don't think she'd want to call you 'Dad,'" Peggy said with a laugh, shaking her head.
"Yeah… that figures. I'm still more like her uncle, after all. I was frozen for seventy years…"
Mentioning the ice brought a wave of sorrow. The most important years of his life—gone.
"Steve… at least… you're still alive."
Peggy didn't know how to comfort him. Lost time could never be reclaimed.
"Yes. I'm still alive."
His body lived in the present, but his heart remained stranded in those years of war and fire, unable to return.
"Is Clara coming to Washington?"
"Yes. She just called—said she's coming. But right now she's busy playing matchmaker for Happy," Steve chuckled. "Honestly, at his age, it's about time he settled down. He's Stark's good friend and Clara's legal guardian… though sometimes it's hard to say who worries more."
Thinking of Clara acting like a tiny adult, earnestly trying to set Happy up with Ms. Daisy, made Steve smile.
"Then… could you bring her to see me?" Peggy asked gently. "I'm very curious about this little angel. I won't tell her any of your secrets."
"Of course. You'll like her. Oh—there's a Christmas photo here. She really looks like Stark. I feel like it's fate between them—something almost magical."
Steve pulled up the photo on his phone. In it, a group of people were grinning foolishly, all flashing equally foolish peace signs. The joy practically spilled out of the image.
"So cute. She looks a bit like Howard too."
"That's because her biological father looks very much like Stark. I think she inherited her looks from him. And because of that, Stark could have this 'daughter'… It's almost as if God arranged it."
Steve lowered his head and slipped the phone back into his pocket, never noticing the fleeting complexity that crossed Peggy's face.
Yes. God's arrangement.
Howard—your granddaughter really has appeared.
Clara Stark.
-----
Back in Brooklyn, Clara tried every trick she knew to keep Ms. Daisy around after dinner. But Happy still stood there like a block of wood, making no move at all. Clara was frantic on his behalf.
As night fell and the city lights flickered on, Ms. Daisy prepared to leave.
"Ms. Daisy, Happy says he'll walk you home. It's not safe to go back alone at night."
Happy stared at Clara in disbelief. When did I say that? Ms. Daisy looked to him expectantly. Flustered, Happy scratched his head and smiled.
"I'll walk you, Ms. Daisy. It's safer not to go alone."
The school was barely a ten-minute walk away—but somehow, between one adult and one child, it had turned into a perilous journey.
"Alright then," Ms. Daisy agreed.
As she turned around, Clara shot Happy an encouraging thumbs-up.
Ten minutes passed quickly. They barely spoke along the way. Ms. Daisy thanked him and headed toward the teachers' dormitory.
Just as she reached the entrance, Happy finally gathered his courage.
"Daisy—this Saturday, I'm taking Clara to the airport. After that… would you like to have dinner with me?"
"Yes," Ms. Daisy replied, nodding. "I'd like that."
She wasn't an innocent girl clueless about feelings. She'd noticed Happy's hesitation long ago. And honestly—steady job, kind-hearted, dependable—Happy was an excellent choice. Most importantly…
Growing up around Tony Stark, that notorious playboy, Happy had somehow remained a pure, awkward "boy" at heart.
When Happy returned, practically glowing, Clara knew—it was a success.
"How did you even manage to keep quiet about your feelings for this long?" she teased.
"You little! Go to bed!" Happy ruffled her hair into a bird's nest before pulling his hand back. The satisfaction felt oddly similar to messing with Tony himself.
"Touch my hair again and I won't be nice about it!" Clara threatened. Ever since she decided to grow it out, she'd started wearing hats just to avoid head-rubbing.
After Happy left, Clara yawned deeply.
Yeah. Time for bed.
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