“I’m here,” he says smoothly. “I’m here. You have me.” The crowd keeps going. “Thank you. Quieten down. Behave. . .” They laugh, their voices and bustles dwindling with respect for his wishes.
“We are the fastest growing city in the country,” he states with a reverent nod. “Did you know that? This city is more than just the place you sleep, and eat, and play. It breathes. It’s alive. With a body made up of buildings and parks, streets and canals. With exceptional qualities, our architecture, our talented citizens, our beaches. With personality, our arts, culture, the guy on the corner of Mills Avenue who throws the pot-pourri in the drains to make our pipes smell nice.” They all burst into knowing laughter. Clay threads his fingers together, resting them in front of him, his face serious now. “With flaws. . . I don’t want to just talk about the good. My first promise to you is to see this city - all of it. Not just the parts that shine, but also the parts that don’t. I will pay attention to all aspects of her. I will take her seriously. I will treat her morally. And I will do a great deal for her.”
The people detonate.
Clay continues, but Bronson appears behind me, stealing my attention. Wrapping his arms around my middle, he places his chin on my crown. I peer across to see Stone in Max’s thick arms; he’s rocking the tiny boy back and forth and Cassidy looks like she’s about to melt into a puddle on the floor.
Thinking about the life I live now, I smile. It’s my resting smile. It’s a small smile, a still one. One that plays on my lips softly and without effort.
It’s contentment.
And Bronson worried that I’d find a world away from the hospital slow-paced and boring, but I enjoy my new role with Akila, with girls just like her. It’s definitely slower, but it’s in no way boring.
And I have many origami roses to show for all the gossiping I do with them. . . apparently, women are never too old to swoon over boys - over men.
And I still only ever speak about one boy.
He’s twenty-eight now.
And although he was always perfect to me. My perfect nutcase. It matters how his soul feels. How he feels about himself. . . and he tells me he feelsbetter.
“He’ll be perfect. Cause you are. And I’ll learn to be, baby. I swear it. I’ll be better.”
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Clay Butcher - The Boss
It’s a new world in The District.
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Kids of The District
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Our Thing- The Duet