Connections

Davey’s up before my alarm sounds on Monday, and he wakes me up with the alarm to get going. The entire weekend he’s been so excited to finally get out of the house and meet people. I’ll admit, I’ve kept Davey on a pretty tight leash upon arrival in LA, so getting to stretch his legs excites him and excites me too. He doesn’t have a lot of skills as far as social interaction goes, but I know that the boys in the studio won’t even think twice about it.

On Saturday when I called John to make sure it was okay, I had a shadow following my light-hearted pacing in the kitchen. He said it wasn’t a problem and sounded like his normal stoked self, not like he was dreading the visit. I sort of explained that since moving here Davey hasn’t had a lot of time outside the house and John immediately told me to bring him whenever I wanted! He has kids of his own and said maybe he’d bring them in one day too to meet him.
I had to explain to Davey that he had to be on good behavior and he mostly had to be quiet, but that it’s not like he’s not allowed to speak. He could understand, since this is still my job and not just hang out time, but I could still see him almost shaking with excitement.

As we get ready Davey has a smile on his face the whole time. It really lightens my heart to see him so stoked about something! He asks me what he should wear, like this is a fancy place we’re going to. I laugh and tell him whatever he wants, but he still waits for me to get dressed to be sure. I’m wearing nothing special, just black jeans and an old Christian Death “Theatre of Pain” album shirt. As I sit in the bathroom and do my make-up, Davey starts going through his section of our closet. I’ve gotten him a pretty decent wardrobe since leaving all of his clothes in New Mexico, and Grandma has definitely helped out with several gifts for him.

Half an hour later, I’m done in the bathroom and start calling for Davey, but I notice that the light in our closet is still on. I laugh, “Davey we’re gonna’ be late, babe. Just pick something and let’s go.” When my eyes land on him sitting in the middle of the floor of the closet, I instantly panic.
“Are you okay?”

He looks up at me, his eyes glassy. “I want them to like me, Mina. I want to wear really cool clothes to impress them.”

“Oh, lovebug,” I sigh. I kneel next to him. “They’re not gonna’ care what you’re wearing, I promise. Pick anything in this closet out. Anything, and I promise they’ll still like you. I know they will.”

“Anything?” he asks, and he turns his eyes back to the closet. “Are you sure?”

I smile and kiss his head before hugging him. “Of course I’m sure, Davey. Pick whatever you think will make you look the coolest if you want. Whatever you like.”

His face scrunches as he focuses all thoughts on clothes, and it’s sort of adorable. He stands up, still in his pajamas, and takes a shirt he’s worn almost incessantly: a blue t-shirt with red along the collar and sleeve hems that has Saturn on it, just like Chuckie from Rugrats. When he saw the shirt at the store he said he had to have it. Apparently Sloane had a couple VCR tapes of the Rugrats that he was allowed to watch and he said it was one of his favorites. I watched it too when I was a kid and bought it for him without hesitation.

“Your favorite shirt. I like it. You wanna’ wear just like black pants with it?” I ask, putting the hanger back on the rack.

“Well, um.” He starts messing with the shirt in his hands. “No, not those pants.”

“Which pants then?” I ask.

He looks up at me before quickly looking back down at his shirt. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

“Shorts then?” I’m confused and trying to put this together.

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. Wordlessly, he walks to the part of my closet that I keep old costumes my grandmother made for me and shirts and things that I kept because they’re sentimental, like my old t-ball uniform and my dress from when I was a flower-girl in a wedding for my friend’s mom. He reaches towards the back and pulls out an old purple tutu I wore when I was in tumbling as a kid, something that I hated but did anyway because my dad signed me up for it to meet other girls (I wasn’t a social butterfly myself). He keeps his head down as he quietly suggests, “This?”

I let out a sigh of relief, knowing he’s not having an anxiety attack and is instead just worried about what to wear! I smile at him and lift his chin so our eyes meet. “Davey, I said anything you want. That includes this tutu.”

“You’re not mad because it’s girl clothes?” he asks.

“What?” I laugh. “Clothes are clothes are clothes, lovebug,” I tell him. “You can wear whatever you want. If you want to wear dresses, we’ll go buy you dresses! If you want to wear a Ninja Turtles costume you could wear that for all I care! Whatever you feel comfortable in, Davey. That’s all that’s important.”

A small smile spreads across his lips. “Okay. Let me get dressed.”

I kiss his head with a smile and turn out of the closet and close the door behind me. Despite us living together for a couple months now I still give him privacy for that, because he’s a growing boy who’s still a little nervous. I sit against the wall across the closet and wait for him to come out.

The boy who walks out of my closet is so excited and bright it almost makes me cry. He looks so happy as he twirls around in the tutu, which fits him just a little loose, and his favorite shirt. I pull the excess waist band back and tie a rubber band around it so it fits a little better and won’t fall down, and after that he pulls on the worn-out Chuck Taylors he wore when I found him in the park and starts nagging me about leaving again.

I make both of us Poptarts before leaving. He’s so excited that he wants to eat them in the car, but I force him to wait and eat at the table. He shovels them down his throat and finishes way before me, so as he waits he looks at himself in the floor-length mirror on the back of my closet door and nags. When I finally finish, I put an old Cubs hat from my dad on his head to sort of disguise him more. I know the dangers about him leaving the building with me. I don’t need anyone looking closely at him, particularly Sloane after our encounter on Friday.

We finally exit the apartment. Davey nearly sprints to the elevator while I make sure everything I need is in my purse. When we get downstairs I tell him to hold my hand and walk him through the back of the lobby to the parking lot behind the building. He nearly tugs my arm out of its socket as he tries to rush me to the car, but I keep my pace and look around, making sure no one’s following or watching. When we get in the car I make sure he’s strapped in the back seat before exiting and driving away, my worries staying in the lot.

Notes

Sorry that this chapter is so short. I just figured I'd get something out there so you guys didn't think I'd died or anything like that, haha. I figure we could all use some good feeling right about now. Also I won't give any excuses, it's just my normal stuff (mental health, quit my job, family staycation of sorts, lame stuff). I haven't abandoned it! Don't worry, more updates will be coming and coming soon (lets hope, right)?

Also, for reference as to what shirt Davey is wearing:



Yours,
~Niki X,,,,,,x