Unspoken - 30. Shopping for Bryce

The boy was quiet. It was almost eerie.

Being mute myself, I never had to worry about noise when it was me communicating, especially since my whole family was fluent in ASL, and my friends learned it. My swimming and diving teams learned enough of it to communicate in most situations. The publisher I managed to score an interview with hired an interpreter before my interview when they realized they hadn’t had one on staff, just to interview me. I have been so very lucky in that regard, that despite how difficult it can be for me to communicate, most people have not judged me harshly for it. My looks were another matter, but my muteness? Never really an issue for me. It helped show me who my real friends were. Especially after I decided not to try an experimental treatment that could give me a voice.

Building a relationship with my Nico, was entirely different. He was fluent in English when he moved from Italy, but there was still a great cultural divide. It took time, more than a year and a half, but eventually he gained an understanding of me and how I thought, to be able to read me and my meanings, despite how choppy sign can be, to understand me. To understand me.

I’ve always relied as much on body language to communicate for me, as well as my hands, so I’m very much a heart-on-the-sleeve type of guy, and because of that I’ve always been hyper-observant of the body language of others. I credit myself; I am quite good at reading it. Nowhere near as good as, say, the character of Jason Gideon on Criminal Minds, a man who – despite being manufactured – was to be admired. Even now I found Mandy Patinkin to be attractive, as much as I did when I saw The Princess Bride for the first time!

Ach, my mind wanders, because I was trying to begin my unraveling of the boy, Bryce, whom I was already falling in love with. We hugged and cried together when we first met, and we chatted a bit about what I’m sure he thought were inane details. We coaxed his favorite color, a light sky blue, out of him. How he felt about firmness of a mattress. Did he watch much tv? Like music on the radio? What sort? We shared all this information about us too.

My Nico had to do almost all the talking, and he interpreted for me when I needed to answer. This was one of the first things we had to explain in greater detail. Bryce was ecstatic at learning what he saw as a new language, but I had to admit I felt a lacking, in being able to take care of him. Boys were energetic, even Bryce was at times, and prone to flitting attention. Il Ragazzo è Mobile, to bastardize a common title. I knew I could he a good father, but I still had niggling doubts that I would be.

It took time for the fostering paperwork to go through, and in that time, we’d visited some six times. Bryce took to Nicolo as well as can be expected, but he was laconic, which was also expected. He conversed with us, if answering questions directly and without much more detail than required could be counted as conversation. We did our best.

So, when we brought him home, I carried the two backpacks worth of belongings that were his very own, as my Nico led our new foster-son into the house. Our tour showed him the garage, my own Miata in there as well, that led into a small almost mini-room for coats and shoes. Which led into the large den-cum-kitchen open room that made up probably fully two thirds of the downstairs. There was a set of sliding glass doors that led to the porch and our large grassy backyard. The kitchen itself was a large U shape around a generous island, which had four barstools on one side, and one each on each of the shorter end. Around the other side of the U led to the front door and front coat closet, and the stairs leading up. On the other side of the stairs was a short hallway to the stairs down to the basement. Off the short hallway was our decently sized music room, which we’d decked out with some very nice audio equipment, and the laundry room. In the basement, which was finished, we didn’t have much, except our two, gun safes and our valuable/documentation safe. Upstairs was the master bedroom, of course, and three guest rooms; the fourth had been converted into an office. We’d picked the largest of the three guest rooms for Bryce. In preparation we’d had all the furniture taken out and sold, and painted the room in a sky blue, with a white ceiling, and sun yellow moulding. The bathroom was done up in a generic royal blue and grey scheme, and we left that as is. We did this because we wanted him to be able to pick out his own furniture. The room was large enough for a queen, and still have space for a tall dresser and a bureau. Its closet space wasn’t great, but it was enough for a boy.

When he saw the blue in the room, he shut his eyes, and shook his head, as if to clear a hallucination. When the empty room remained the light sky blue, he looked to Nicolo, and whispered almost brokenly, “y-you r-remembered?”

Nicolo ruffled his hair, and smiled, “Sì, of course we did. You’ll have to sleep in the guest room, as we wanted to let you pick out your own furniture. Take a moment to examine the room, and think of what you might like to have, and meet us downstairs for lunch. After we eat, we can go shopping. Okay?” Bryce nodded absently, but I saw his eyes grow wide when he saw I didn’t have his bags.

“M-my stuff?!”

“Calma, Bryce,” Nicolo ruffled his hair again, before setting a hand on his shoulder, which seemed to calm him down. “Alex likely set them on the bed in the other room. Sì, Alex?” I nodded, smiling. I made my way over, and gently pulled Bryce into a hug. He clutched at me. I rubbed his back before we disengaged, and I signed to him. Nicolo translated.

‘We are very happy you are here.’

This brought a smile. I cupped a cheek, before we left Bryce to his thoughts in his new room. Downstairs we made sandwiches with turkey, roast beef, and ham too, so Bryce could have his choice. We’d discussed cooking multiple options for each meal, which shouldn’t be too hard for me to manage, so Bryce could take his pick, and we could learn his preferences. He ate one of each type of sandwich, and after Nicolo and I cleared up, Bryce watching us guardedly from a barstool on the island, we all got back in Nicolo’s Cherokee to head out for a day of shopping. It was to be a long shopping trip.

For the boy was quiet. It was almost eerie.

We’d decided to do furniture first, to get it delivered all the quicker. The first store we visited elicited no response, verbal or visible, to any of the bedroom sets. We’d looked through the children’s sets first, before moving on to the adult sets, but he was reticent. Not a single word, and at the end, Nicolo asked if he saw anything he liked. He just shrugged with one shoulder. So, to a second store we went. The second store was much the same. We saw a slight reaction to two of the sets, but asking again brought just a shrug. The third store held an improvement to the poor boy’s reticence. I had been looking closely for reactions, and I wonder if this is what it was like for people to deal with me upon first meetings. The realization of the possibility was… eye opening, to say the least. We finally saw enough of a reaction to a set, to justify taking more time to look closer at it. It was a nice set, done up in white, with a large bed, with a more solid foundation equipped with drawers underneath. I liked the idea. It came with the standards. Two-night tables, a tall dresser, a long dresser, and surprisingly, a bookshelf. I wanted to make sure it would last, so I poked about the pieces as much as I could, while Nicolo had planted Bryce on the bed, and sat next to him, holding the boy to his side. He tried asking some questions. His responses, for he finally did respond verbally, were whispered as he looked to his shoes, as if afraid to speak his mind.

“Bryce,” Nicolo leaned down to keep his words quiet, “I swear, we swear, we will never strike you for being honest. We won’t ever strike you even if you lie. We will never strike you for any reason. We just want to make you happy, that’s all. We won’t know how, if you don’t tell us.”

I could see Bryce shiver slightly, before he looked up to Nicolo, his eyes pleading. “Y-you promise?”

“Sì, Bryce. We promise.”

Bryce’s tongue just barely peeked out between his lips, sliding from one side of his mouth to the other. He peeked back up to Nicolo, and stated, with some of the courage he’d shown us so far, “I like this one the best.”

We both smiled, which prompted a small smile from him, too. “You want this one?” Bryce nodded. “You don’t want to see the rest of what they have?”

Bryce shook his head. “I… I like the white, and I… I think it will look good with the blue and yellow?”

“Okay. You two wait here, I will go make arrangements for delivery, sì?” He ruffled Bryce’s hair, poked him gently on the nose, and stood, picking up an item slip from the dresser, disappearing quickly around the corner. I took his place next to the boy, and smiled to myself as he instantly leaned against me. I threw an arm across his shoulder, and rubbed it comfortingly. With my free hand, I tapped his thigh, and held up my forefinger and thumb in a circle, my other three fingers splayed out and up. It wasn’t ‘correct’ sign for OK, which was just the letters O and K, but it was ubiquitous enough that he would understand.

He nodded in response, and whispered a “Thank you, Alex.” We hadn’t yet begun to teach him ASL, so I couldn’t respond appropriately, but I did give him a kiss to the temple. I believe he got the message. It took some ten minutes or so, Bryce kicking his feet against the foundation at this point, so much more relaxed, for Nicolo to return.

“The set,” he stated without delay, “will be delivered tomorrow at 11. It is solid wood, and it comes fully assembled so we need not worry about that. Are you ready to go look at mattresses, Bryce?” He nodded just slightly, and so off we went. The stores we visited did carry some mattresses, but not many, and most of them were high-end luxury mattresses. We weren’t looking for a Purple or a Tempur-Pedic. It took a few stores to find one he liked, but he was at least more open, visibly as well as verbally, as he sat on and bounced on each one. He finally found one he liked, and gave Nicolo a shy nod, and as before, he left us to ourselves to go arrange delivery. We ended up as before, Bryce idly kicking his feet, us leaning against each-other. Nicolo returned in less time than before, announcing that it would be delivered the next day at noon, to allow for the furniture to be unloaded.

We’d left the house at 12:30, and it was just past 3. It was fine, we expected it to take time, but with Bryce’s desire to remain quiet it had just taken longer. We wanted to be sure he’d not just have a room, but have his room.

The next goal was bedroom essentials. A sheet set was easy to pick, a light grey to match the set. Pillows were where Bryce showed the most reaction. He was fascinated by the memory foam pillows, squeezing the sample to his chest and giggling as it took time to reform to its natural shape. He did this four times before he’d had enough and put it back. We got him two of those pillows, and a body pillow, when I’d noticed him giving the long pillows a curious eye. The case for that I picked for him was a multicolored tie-dyed case. Nicolo suggested a black one, but I insisted on a brightly colored one. Just something that he didn’t pick, as a reminder that we were there. Something told me it would be appreciated.

A trip to Walmart got him a new toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, body wash, deodorant, facial wash, hand soap, a set of washable bathroom cups, a three-bag clothes hamper… well, the shopping cart got a bunch of stuff tossed in. The problem with all of this was his good mood from earlier was being eroded away for some reason. A reason I think I understood.

I was watching him closely enough to see he wasn’t paying any attention at all to prices on the furniture, mattress, and other bed accoutrements, but he was, in Walmart, paying attention. Oh, not to prices. We’d chosen Walmart because we didn’t want to buy anything that might need to be quickly replaced at a higher price if it turned out not to work or if he changed his mind. What Bryce was paying attention to was quantity. As more and more items were put in the cart, I saw his face fall further and further. I was certain the total wouldn’t be terribly high, even after selecting a generic lamp for his bedside. But the cart was growing populated. As we checked out, bagging the items by category as I always did, the total came to just under $150, not even a hundredth of the total for the furniture and mattress, Bryce looked to be fighting back tears. He helped load the bags in the back of the Cherokee, yes, but his reticence had returned. We still had shoes, socks, and other clothing items to purchase. Walmart went quick. I made a quick sign to Nicolo to talk to Bryce, and I took his keys, to drive while they did so. Shoes would go first, so we planned for the mall. Several shoe stores, several clothing stores, all in one place. Perfect to outfit a young boy.

“Bryce, what is wrong?” Nicolo asked from the back seat, a hand on his thigh. Bryce shook his head. “You recall our promise? Please. What is wrong?”

A mumbled reply. Nicolo gave him a moment to muster some courage, before I heard his voice louder, but trembly. “You’re buying too much.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean?”

His control wavered enough for a burst of emotion. “You’re buying too much! I don’t deserve it!”

I swiftly pulled the Cherokee into the nearest parking lot, and climbed out of the driver’s seat to clamber next to him in the back seat. Again, he instantly leaned against me, burying his face into my shoulder, wetting my shirt with tears. He twitched when he felt Nicolo gently place a hand on his shoulder.

“Bryce. Bryce, look at me, please?”

He slowly lifted his face, and turned a smidgeon, to see Nicolo smiling at him. He turned more fully when Nicolo cupped his cheek, using his thumb to wipe away tears.

“Bryce, that is not true. We would buy the sun for you if you wanted it. We would buy five hundred times as much as we plan to today, if only to see you smile. You’re now our foster-son. It’s not only our job to take care of you, but it will be our pleasure. Okay?”

Little Bryce sniffled, and he gave Nicolo just the barest, almost imperceptible, nod. Nicolo pulled him back against him, and ruffled his hair. “You still need shoes, socks, underwear, and clothes!” I could see his eyes widen as the list continued. “Now, were it up to Alex,” he flicked at my wolf’s tail, “you’d probably be dressed all in pinks and rainbows, but we’ll try to stop that from happening, yes?”

I’m sure Bryce could tell I was laughing, and he let out a small giggle as well, as I shook my head and climbed back out to get to the front seat. We weren’t that far from the mall, so it was only maybe five minutes or so before I was parking again.

He was more forthcoming while we looked at shoes. I split off for a moment to see if I could find a new pair for me, and I managed to snag a pair of hot-pink Converse in my size. It was aimed at getting Bryce comfortable, but truth be told my Nico was right, I loved pinks, purples, and rainbows. I rejoined them as a store clerk was helping to size Bryce. His shoes weren’t ratty, but they were worn past where the tag on the tongue was legible. They looked up as I approached, and I pulled one shoe out of the box. Bryce laughed audibly – SUCCESS! – and Nicolo laughed too, just as the clerk finished sizing Bryce. I sat down to wait as Nicolo lifted Bryce to his feet to go look at different types. The clerk offered me help, but I shook my head, and pointed to the shoes, and then held up a thumb. He nodded, and followed Nicolo, to get sizes out of the back for Bryce to try on, presumably. They returned some ten minutes later, and the clerk then showed up shortly after with three boxes under his arm. A running shoe, a comfort walking shoe, and a slip-on for casual wear were revealed, as Bryce sat to try them on. Surprisingly, to me at least, only the casual slip-on took multiple tries to fit. I would have thought the running shoe would take the longest. Guess the clerk knew what he was doing. I gave Nicolo a glance and a raised eyebrow. He whispered “Non ha ancora bisogno di un paio formale” to me, and I nodded in agreement after a short moment. Bryce decided to wear the casual slip-ons out, so his old shoes went into the box, and we went to pay. This time there wasn’t a recession of his mood. We went to a Sports Authority for socks, as I wanted him to have better wear quality than casual or dress, and we picked out some black and white socks. Nicolo made sure to tell him he could pick out any he wanted, and I saw him have a small fight with himself before pulling a pair of light pink no-shows and a pair of lime-green ankle socks on our way to the register. I hoped that even if he wasn’t feeling great about how much we were buying, he at least trusted that we wanted to buy him all this stuff. Between the two multi-packs of ten and the two pairs he picked, hopefully they would last a while, and Bryce would get more of his own choices for socks. We tossed them in the shoe bag instead of getting another.

The next hour was spent hopping from store to store, as I threw all kinds of clothes at the wide-eyed boy. No, they weren’t all rainbows or pink either! He tried on almost everything, and even insisted on not getting certain things that he didn’t like!

Probably thirty shirts, long sleeve and tee, and a couple sleeveless, with two skintight shirts he picked out, had to be spread across several bags. Most of the sizes he picked were small. It seemed he, like us, preferred more snug-fitting shirts. I don’t think I had a loose shirt outside of formal wear, and Nico loves to tease people with his muscles. It has been a long time since he could make me rock-hard just by flexing his biceps or pecs in public, but I still appreciated the view, very much so.

For shorts and pants, I was surprised to see he was mid-sized. Not too baggy but not really slim-fitting. He got two jeans that were a slim fit, but the other five were regular fit. He didn’t want slacks or sweat pants, but we told him he could get some later if he wanted.

His choices in shorts were much the same; he preferred regular fit. He picked out a variety of colors of sport shorts, and these he got a bit looser, but he also got – to my utter shock, two pairs of lycra shorts! He looked apprehensive when he added them to the shorts, we were holding for him, but our unwavering smiles set him at ease. Lastly, three pairs of regular shorts - that weren’t jeans, sweats, or sport shorts – were purchased as well. I shook my head at Nicolo to call a halt when it became apparent, we would he overloaded if we got anything else! Rather, I think we were already overloaded. We had bags from like twelve stores between the three of us, and though clothes aren’t really that heavy, they get so when you get a LOT of them together! It gave Nico excuse to show off his muscles though! He would only let us carry two bags each, and he lugged the rest.

Bryce still seemed okay when we got back to the Cherokee, and the bags all packed in the back, we climbed back in. I elected to sit in the back next to Bryce, and he scooted over so his leg was against mine, his shoulder against mine, just like we sat when we first met. Nothing was said, though.

The last place we stopped was, I would always be surprised at this, a stand-alone Macy’s. The only clothes lacking at this point was underwear. The boy’s section for underwear at this store was huge. We knew this because I still wore a boys Large in most clothes. We let Bryce lead the way. We knew what size he was, so he could just explore and touch and pick up and put down as he wished. He elected for briefs. Not the super-wide standard Hanes or Fruit of the Loom tighty-whiteys, but low cut with thinner sides. Like the socks, we mostly got multi-packs of cotton, three five-packs to be precise, but I picked out a couple of synthetic pairs on hangers for him. He smiled at them, and for the last time today we checked out. The Macy’s bag was added to the trunk, and we headed home. I carried in a few bags myself, but shortly started dinner, a simple mac and cheese, and hot dogs, while Nicolo and Bryce brought the rest in. I know that Nicolo would make sure the sheet set and pillowcases would he washed first, for the furniture tomorrow, but I also knew he would go over how to sort the dirty laundry, and over the next day would teach him laundry. We both contributed to laundry, and we agreed that Bryce would as well, as a first chore.

Bryce had two hot dogs, and a bowl of mac and cheese too, as we both watched him inhale it all. Growing boys will be growing boys I guess, and his file did say he was malnourished, but it still looked like a lot of food to me. His eyes were drooping as we took him up to the bedroom he’d be sleeping in, for just the one night, and we helped him get the covers on the new pillows. We left him to his own devices, not sure how he’d want to sleep, but out of the corners of our eyes we could see him shuck all but his briefs before climbing into bed. He was so unexpectedly unabashed and quick, that we turned back to give him goodnight kisses on the forehead. Nicolo whispered “sleep well, Bryce. Welcome home.” This got a sleepy but smiley “thanks Nicolo, thanks Alex,” before we turned off the bed lamp. We’d long ago installed light-sensitive night-lights in all the rooms, for safety, and we heard a shuffle just as we got to the door. As we closed it behind us, we saw that he had rolled over, and was clutching at the tie-dyed rainbow body pillow for dear life.

He had a lot of healing to do, but he was home.