How Green Becomes Wood

Alec shrugged. "I don't know. It usually just comes up in conversation, I guess. She does tell me when she likes something. She thinks you and Mama are very respectable and responsible people, which is an indication of her good judgment, I think."
 
"It's a fashion style which originated in Japan," Dark replied, "It's named for the neighborhood the fashion originated from, and it is one of the most famous fashion districts in the world."
 
Alec hesitated a moment. Then he went upstairs to put away his things and get more comfortable. What made him happy? That was what was most important? He supposed that was right. He thought again about the advice Dark had given him in the past what he wore. How was that different from Emma's advice? Even as he had the thought, he knew the answer and felt a bit guilty for even thinking it. Emma made statements that she expected to be followed, and her suggestions always focused on her own tastes. Dark gave advice based off of what would work best for Alec's taste while never saying he shouldn't wear this or that, just what might look better within what he wanted. That was a big difference. Alec sighed and lay on the bed, drained and exhausted. He didn't mean to, but he drifted off in a light nap.
 
"Well, that went better than expected," Dark said, sitting back.

"He's still growing up, but I'd rather have this drama than most of what else we've experienced," Daizi said, listening to Ivy's bells jingle.

"Yes, me too." Dark nodded, "I just do not like the thought of him not feeling free to be his true size."
 
Xander came in from the back, dressed in his usual black attire. Since he hadn't planned on going anywhere outside the shed, he was much scruffier looking than usual, with his hair mussed, rips in his shirt, and his jeans nearly worn through at the knees. He was looking at his phone as he wandered in, but then he looked up at Dark and Daizi and paused, glancing between them, a little confused by their somewhat tense yet relieved expressions. "What?"
 
Xander shrugged. "Dunno, really. She tends not to talk to him much when I'm around. She doesn't like me much. When she does talk to him, it's pretty much how she talks to anyone. Sharp, to the point, her opinion first." He paused. "She does smile when she's around him, and I don't see her smiling much otherwise. Like real smiles, not polite, put-on smiles."
 
"Okay, that's good to know. Thank you for telling me," Daizi replied. That was good at least, it meant Emma genuinely liked him.

A couple days later, that Wednesday, Dark and Daizi bundled Ivy up and decided to bring her to a baby group. It was going to be the third one they tried, and although they knew it was important for Ivy's development... They really, really didn't want to go. The one with Matt didn't turn out to be that bad, at least not because of Matt, but some of the other people started making uncomfortable comments, so both Dark and Daizi and Matt and his husband Sean ended up quietly leaving it, although both couples had ultimately decided to stay in touch.
 
There were not many people in the large room yet, and most of them were focused on their own mini groups of twos, threes, and fours, depending on how many parents were with each respective child. The majority were women alone with their child or children. One fellow, however, stuck out.

Six foot three inches in height, he dwarfed the plastic chair he sat in. Sandy blonde hair held in place with just a bit too much product and a carefully sculpted beard framed a reasonably handsome Caucasian American face with a strong but not overbearing nose. A simple white T-shirt strained across the chest and biceps but hung loose about the middle, a classic problem with the muscle-building scene. His sweatpants - nicer sweats, but still sweats - were having an equally, if not harder, time containing his legs. He hunched over awkwardly, trying to squish his bulk down as he held the hands of the little tyke with him.

The baby looked to be about Ivy's age and stood solidly while holding his father's hands, his chubby face bearing a far-too-serious expression for someone who hadn't even walked the world for two years yet. His blonde hair lay so awkwardly it almost looked like a frizzy wig, and his baby-sized sport's themed shirt had the icon, "Daddy's #1 Fan" on it with a picture of a grinning panda holding a foam finger up. The panda looked to be doing all the work in the smiles department despite his father's best efforts.

The man glanced up and spotted Dark and Daizi. His grin grew even broader, and he freed one hand to wave. "Hey! Look here, we got ourselves some new comers!" he called in a big, cheerful voice that was a bit too loud for the current space.
 
Dark and Daizi always felt awkward going into these events. Even if they both looked normative, they knew they were older parents than average and Daizi was a blind mother. It was absolutely still a brand new environment for them both, but they were committed to making themselves uncomfortable for their sake of their daughter, who was looking around curiously inside of her carrier. When the stranger grinned and waved, they both stopped slightly and Dark whispered to Daizi he had waved so she knew to return it.

"Hello, yes," Dark said, having suddenly been put very much on the start.

"I'm Daizi, this is my husband Ghalib and our daughter Ivy-Qadira." Daizi said, handling the introductions while holding onto Dark's arm.
 
"Hello, I'm Kyle!" the man said. He picked up his toddler and stood, holding him up. "This bundle of absolute joy is my son, Raymond! I call him Ray when his mother's not around." He grinned cheekily while Raymond stared solumnly at Dark and Daizi, judging them with his dark eyes and finding them somewhat lacking. Kyle shifted Raymond to his hip and appraised Dark. "Not often I have to look up to a man. What do you bench?"
 
"375, typically," Dark replied, surprised by the question, "I have gone higher, but if I stick around 375 I can also work stamina."

"It's nice to meet you, Kyle," Daizi said, having no idea what else to add to that conversation.
 
"Nice! I'd have expected more," Kyle grinned. "I'm at 400, myself, but I've been trying to-" He caught himself and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. My wife says I'm a terrible conversationalist. Not everyone's interested in the gym talk, Kyle, and even if they are, you don't cut out the ones that aren't. Nice to meet you, ah... Daizi?" He didn't quite get it right, but he was a lot closer than those who mistakenly called her "daisy."
 
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