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Merci Plymouth, Plymouth Media
23
#personalday
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“That’s Becky.” Wesley nodded at a girl who sat at the edge of the basketball court, her attention on a tablet in her hands. She had Down’s Syndrome as well, and wore a sparkly pink tiara that perched atop her black braids.
“Yeah?” I glanced at her, then him, noticing the pink heat of his cheeks. “You like her?”
“I like her A LOT.” He started doing jumping jacks, counting loudly as he went.
I stifled a smile as he wheezed to a stop, then began a dramatic stretching routine, his attention continually darting to her. “Have you ever talked to her?”
“Of course.” He bent forward in an attempt to touch his toes. “Twice.”
“You talked to her twice?” I sat crossed-legged on the bench. “What did you say?”
“She was running in the hall.” He sat down next to me, his breathing hard. “No running in the halls.”
“That’s right,” I nodded, the signs visible and large, because running in the halls was undoubtedly the gateway to hell. “You told her to stop running.”
“I yelled at her,” he affirmed proudly. “Two different times. NO RUNNING IN THE HALLS!”
“Okay.” I patted his arm. “Calm down. People are going to think you’re yelling at them.”
We sat there for a moment in silence, the warm sun pleasant after the morning’s chill. I watched the girl, who looked a couple of years younger than Wesley. “I think you should talk to her again.”
“Should I ask her if she has a boyfriend?” He perked up at the thought.
“Maybe not right away.” I watched his profile, his attention straight ahead, his mind working. “Let’s come up with a plan. A courtship.”
“To be my girlfriend?”
I shrugged, wondering what a relationship with Wesley would look like. “Is that what you want, a girlfriend?”
He nodded. “My brother says girlfriends are the BEST.”
I’m sure he did. I tried not to chase down the question, a little fearful that I might start pumping Wesley for information about Cash. This was, out of our four visits together, the first time he had mentioned him. “They can be nice,” I said carefully. “If you find the right one.”
“Becky is the right one,” he said emphatically. “I am in LOVE with her.”
Likely. The girl nodded her head along with whatever she was listening to.
“Let’s start with baby steps,” I suggested. “Why don’t you…” I looked around. The campus was, as much as I hated to admit it, gorgeous. We sat in the shade of a large oak tree, with a view of the basketball courts and open law. Azalea bushes bordered the area, and a nature trail off to the right would take us past the pool, koi pond, and the tennis court. “There.” I pointed at a bed of daisies that surrounded the fountain. “Pick her some flowers and take them to her. Introduce yourself and give them to her.”
“No.” He blushed and covered his face with his hand. “Too embarrassing.”
“It’s not embarrassing.” I tugged at his arm. “It’s easy.” This coming from a woman who was secretly spending time with her crush’s younger brother because she didn’t have the courage to apologize to him. “Just say ‘Hi, I’m Wesley. I brought you some flowers.”
“And then?” He peeked at me through a crack in his fingers.
“And then see what she says. And if you run out of things to say, you just say. “Okay, have a nice day. I’ll see you soon.”
His hands fell away from his face and he repeated the end phrase, the words thicker and slower but would do the job nicely. He was a cute kid, blessed with some lethal genes, even if he did have an extra chromosome.
“Want me to help you pick the flowers?”
He pushed to his feet. “I can do it.”
I crossed my feet at the ankle and watched as he marched over to the bed of bright white daisies and carefully unearthed a few, their roots still attached as he gathered them in his palm and then looked at me. I gestured him forward and held my breath, watching as he stopped beside her and waved. She looked up, then pulled her headphones off, taking her crown along with it.
I couldn’t see her face but could see the big smile that took over his. And when he knelt to one knee and presented her with the flowers—my heart bloomed with hope for the two of them. It was so sweet; the moment made even more so when he stood, lifted both hands in the air and cheered his entire way back to me. She turned to watch him and clapped both hands in the air above her head, and there was a moment when I envied their unabashed celebration. The real world would tear them to shreds but at that moment—I almost believed in love.
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