How Green Becomes Wood

"I figured they were likely siblings." Dark replied, taking his spot against the wall with his arms folded, "I had been told only other parents are interested in children. It seems I was misled."
 
"When you become a parent, or at least I experienced this, so much of your life and your thoughts become focused on your children, and they become the majority of what you are interested in talking about, because you are so proud of them." He stared up at the ceiling, "Teenagers, people are more interested in, typically, because they have hobbies, they are relatable. But babies are boring. They are incredibly boring. Until," He held up one finger, "it is your own baby. Then they are the most fascinating person alive. But because the baby is still boring to everyone else, parents talk to other parents about their babies, just so they can excise this desire to talk about it. Or so I was told, but this was my first time attempting to talk to another parent of a current baby." He grinned as much as he ever did, "Ivy is cuter, by the way."
 
Tristan chuckled. "Seeing just her pictures, yes, Ivy is the superior baby," he agreed. "And new parents are usually very excited to talk about their babies whenever possible. Were you disappointed to not share the joy with Miss Rachel and Mrs. Chadwell? Mrs. Chadwell is a very reserved, very protective person, but when little Raymond was born, her husband came in for flowers. First and last time I ever saw him, and he told me more about little Raymond than I could possibly want to know."
 
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"She is much cuter," Dark asserted, even though Tristan was already in agreement, "It is not even a competiton." He exhaled, looking down at the floor again, "I am not disappointed, really. I do not like talking with strangers. And honestly---I could not care less about that baby. But he made me think of Ivy." He fell silent for a few moments, but then asked, "Are you at all interested in having children? I apologize if that is too personal a question. You do not need to answer it."
 
Tristan couldn't help a small, slightly startled laugh. "However reserved Mrs. Chadwell is, I think she would take offense at the fact that you could not care less about her baby," he teased lightly, knowing what Dark meant. He paused at Dark's further question and looked away, running his hand lightly back and forth along the top of his right wheel. "I have considered the idea," he said slowly, "but if children are in my future, they will not be biologically mine." He gave a tiny shrug and a smile that was only slightly forced. "Not that I am opposed, but it is something I had to... learn to accept."
 
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"Hm." Dark exhaled, and thought silently about it for a good, long while before admitting, "For a very long time, Daizi and I believed we would never be able to have a biological child. I do not say that to attempt to instill some false hope of miracles into you: I do not believe in God, and it follows I do not believe in miracles. Ivy is precious, but she is not our miracle. I bring it up because it can be a lonely thing." He paused again, almost mentioning how Daizi would understand better, but he didn't want to share anything specific, "Daizi and I both come from countries which do not legally recognize adopted children as your own child. It was difficult for us to learn to accept, too."
 
"I have been around a few people who praised adoption as a saving of the children... but then they would never accept the adopted ones as truly being a part of the family. And not being able to create that family, it was..." Tristan stopped himself and shook his head. "Forgive me. I am getting far too personal and sharing more information than I am sure you care to know." He smiled at Dark and shifted back a bit. "I am truly glad that you were able to gain the family you love so much."
 
"It is more complicated a process. And expensive, if you pursue private adoptions. Our applications were exclusively rejected. The system is important, but it is run poorly." He didn't try to pry more into what Tristan chose to withhold. The pain of infertility and adoption were all too real to him, "I am glad too. I did not know how much it would mean to me. Now I have three children. It is the busiest home I have ever lived in."
 
"I have to say, I do enjoy how quiet my little apartment is," Tristan said with a little chuckle. "My neighbors are almost all empty nesters and retirees with a scattering of singles who either go out to party or like staying quietly at home. Some people might even say it is boring, but the gossip is second to none."
 
"I do miss the quiet," Dark confessed with a slight chuckle, "and I miss being in charge of my own schedule." Again he paused, slowly turning his wedding ring around his finger, "Most of all I miss how much time I was able to spend alone with my wife, at home. Without worrying about if we are about to embarass or scar someone. I would rather have my children than any of those things, but if I could have just one of them back, I would want more time with her."
 
Tristan glanced at him, a subtle expression of wistfulness crossing his face. He almost said something but rethought what he was going to say. Before he could say anything else, more people came into the store. This group appeared to be a family of six. Three girls ranging from nearly eighteen and one that may or may not have just reached preteen. Right in the middle was a young boy who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. The mother and the three girls were breathless and giggling, exchanging quick, quiet looks while the very suburban dad just looked confused and resigned to his lot in life as bag holder. There were quite a few bags. Tristan stayed behind the counter, pulling himself up with a smile and a nod to the family, welcoming them in.
 
Now this was a size of family Dark was grateful to not have. Although, he realized with horror as he navigated them, he was one away from it. They were a family of five. He gave a firm nod to the father as his best show of, 'I am sorry, I do not intend for this to happen, I am not somebody you need to worry about' and he did his best to assist them while yearning for the end of his work day.
 
The mother was well-behaved and made certain to keep her girls in line, though she and the eldest did not hide their ogling well. The middle girl did squeal once, which garnered a stern reprimand. The youngest girl seemed mostly in awe of Dark's massive size and presence. Even the young boy was interested. At least the family seemed genuinely interested in buying flowers, and the youngest insisted on getting a small cactus that had decided to grow crooked.

When his two older sisters and mother were distracted arguing about how many daisies they could buy compared to other flowers, the boy asked Dark, "Are you, like, an undertaker or something?"

"You can't ask that!" hissed the youngest girl. "Besides, he's a vampire! Duh!"

The boy gave his sister a disgusted look. "Like a vampire would work for a Bhudist florist in the middle of the day!"

"Like an undertaker would!" his sister shot back.

Tristan caught part of the conversation and hid a smile.
 
Dark looked at the too children for a moment, silently making up his mind about what he was going to do about this, and then crouched very far down to their level, "If I tell you," He asked, his voice low and grave, "Do you promise to tell no-one but your parents?" He wanted to leave it at tell no-one, but he knew he wouldn't want a stranger to tell Ivy to keep a secret from him.
 
"I am a vampire," He lied as convincingly as he could, able to tell he could probably convince at least one of them. "Do you see my ring?" He held out his left hand, showing his wedding ring with the large, red stone, "This is the only reason I am able to be out during the day. If someone were to steal it from me, I would die in the sun. I work here so the town does not get suspicious."
 
"Whoa!" the girl whispered, her eyes huge and sparkling as she stared at Dark. "I knew it!"

"Oh, come off it," the boy scoffed, but his expression said he wasn't entirely certain Dark was lying. "There's no such thing as vampires. He's just teasing us. You know how adults are."

The girl shot him a glare. "I'm sorry he doesn't believe you. I do! Are any of the legends true? Can you fly? Or turn into a wolf?"

"What are you two doing? Don't bother the poor man. He's just trying to do his job," the mother scolded, coming over to shoo them away from Dark. She gave him her best smile. "I'm so sorry, but I think we're about ready."

The father stood at the counter chatting idly with Tristan while "guarding" the purchases his family had already picked out lined up on the counter.
 
"Well--" Dark began, playing up his accent, when they were unfortunately interrupted. So, with a wink, he stood back to his full height before bringing one finger to his lips and standing back, carefully making sure not to stand where any reflective surface in the store might capture him.
 
The mother and the eldest daughter requested Dark's help for a couple of smaller bouquets and a hanging plant they couldn't reach. Then Tristan started the process of ringing them up and bagging up what he could bag. Flowers were awkward and took up a lot of space. The youngest girl and the boy watched Dark closely. The girl with awe, and the boy with great suspicion. The boy even added in a small potted plant of his own, a colorful aloe plant. The father's resigned expression grew deeper with each new bag and small pot. Tristan gave them instructions for how to keep their little plants alive and thriving.

Finally, the family shuffled out the door, the youngest girl waving excitedly. Tristan settled back in his chair watching them go.

"It seems I shall have to endeavor to keep a secret for you," he chuckled. "Does this give me the means to blackmail you into working for me consistently and doing all the heavy lifting? And perhaps draw more of those signs? You are a fantastic sign artist, afterall." His tone was lighthearted, but he looked a little pale.
 
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