Mr. and Mrs. West.

Mr. West came up to me and extended his hand for a handshake. The moment he did I felt myself tense up. Mr. West shook my hand with firm confidence and geniality, and in contrast I shook his stiffly and with suddenly renewed nerves.

Had they been watching while I talked to their children? Maybe I acted too familiar with them… But as I was worrying, Mr. West began to laugh.

“My, the world really is small, isn’t it? To think Robert’s rescuer was one of Sarah’s friends!”

“We didn’t even bother to ask you your name,” Mrs. West said. She had a hand on her cheek as she smiled apologetically at me. “Sarah talks about you all the time, but since she never described how you looked, we didn’t even consider that you may know each other.”

“I don’t talk about him that much…” Sarah muttered.

Mrs. West chuckled. “Yes you do, honey.”

“I…” I swallowed. Come on, Oliver! Get your act together! You can talk to people now. Why are you getting all anxious? Sure, they are the parents of one of your girlfriends, some of the people in the world you least want to disappoint or give a bad impression to, but even so… “I should’ve asked when I heard your son say your last name was West,” I said, speaking despite the tightness in my chest and trying to put on the casual smile I wore at work. “I don’t know why it didn’t cross my mind.”

“Please, there’s a million Wests out there,” Mr. West said, shrugging as he laughed. “But come in, let’s not stand here at the doorway.”

“Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll have dinner ready soon,” said Mrs. West.

The sizzling and the smell of the stir fry were making my mouth water already. Maybe part of it was that working on cleaning the roof of the shed at school had made me work up an appetite, but Mrs. West cooking is always a delight no matter how many times I try it.

Mr. West offered me a glass of orange juice and I accepted. We sat at the small table along with Sarah while Mrs. West finished cooking. She still talked to us, though.

“Again, Oliver, thank you very much for finding our Robert,” she said with a tired sigh. “I never thought he’d run away like that. He’s usually so well behaved.”

I smiled wryly. “He said he ran because you wouldn’t buy him a toy he wanted.”

“Well, he told you the truth,” Mr. West said. “We told him he could only ask for one thing. He asked for a toy gun that shoots foam bullets, but then he saw this robot and he’s crazy for those. I suppose he wanted it enough to try and throw a tantrum.”

“He knows those don’t work,” Sarah said, shrugging. She looked at me. “I’ve never gotten anything from throwing a tantrum, either.”

I smiled. “No wonder you’re a hard worker, then.”

“Right?” Mrs. West laughed. “We’re really proud of her, even if her attitude could still use some work.”

“Mom!”

“You’re a hard worker too, aren’t you, Oliver?” Mr. West asked me. “Sarah said you started working at a coffee shop.”

“Ah. W-Well, yes.”

“Is it difficult? Sarah also told us you used to have a really bad case of social anxiety.”

I was beginning to wonder if Grace had also told her family my entire story. I suppose it saved us a lot of trouble, but it was a little weird.

“It… used to be, yes, but I’m really glad I took that job. I’ve learned a lot there.”

Mr. West smiled. “Anxiety is the mind working in the future,” he told me. “The uncertainty of where our actions will lead to can be frightening, especially so when we focus on the worst-case scenarios. What’s worse, the more you try to rationalize it, the worse you feel. You start thinking that you’re stupid for not being able to do things others can, for being scared of things that may not even happen at all.”

My jaw dropped. That was it. That was exactly it. That was precisely how I felt back then, and even now. Thinking in the future, assuming the worst will happen and therefore doing nothing.

“It’s far more difficult to overcome that anxiety that people believe,” Mr. West continued. “In fact, you could say that the smarter and more self-aware a person is, the harder it is to overcome anxiety. We may only just be meeting, but let me congratulate you on your progress, Oliver. And please, make yourself at home here.”

I blinked. I felt my eyes suddenly itching with the threat of tears and fought my hardest to push them back. I didn’t expect his words to hit me so hard, but I was left stunned for a moment, looking into my glass of juice.

“T-Thank you, Mr. West.” I was embarrassed that my voice came out so weak.

“Dad, you don’t need to psychoanalyze him…” Sarah told him in a half-scolding tone.

Mr. West flinched and laughed it off. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“He certainly didn’t look like an anxious boy to me when he was talking to the kids,” Mrs. West said. “Do you have younger siblings, too?”

“N-No, I don’t,” I said, trying to laugh along. “I have a sister my own age, but I think we were a bit like them at their age, so…”

Now that I thought about it, WHY did I not have trouble talking to children? It’s not like I met a lot of kids, but even before I started changing I don’t remember ever freezing up in front of a child.

I guess… I wasn’t worried about being criticized, shunned or laughed at by them. They weren’t peers I wanted respect and acceptance from, nor adults I needed to approve of me in any way. I’m not trying to be condescending or anything. I simply mean that, without those worries, I could focus on trying to understand them and treat them well, like I would like to be treated if I was in their place.

“H-H-Hey, M-Mister?” Robert’s voice came from behind me. I turned around and saw him holding a soccer ball. His eyes went from me to the floor as he fidgeted nervously. “D-D-Do you want to come play with us?”

See, as nervous as this kid was to talk to a stranger so much older than him, he had me completely dwarfed in bravery. I turned to Mr. and Mrs. West. “Would it be a problem if I did?”

Mrs. West smiled widely. “Not at all. I’ll be done in ten minutes.”

Robert smiled with bright, wide eyes and ran to tell his brother and sister that I’d said yes.

Sarah stood up with me and we went over to the backyard. But before we went out, when we were out of earshot from everyone, she turned to me.

“I really haven’t made any wrong decisions since that night, huh?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Come on.”

She walked out ahead of me, to where her three siblings were eagerly waiting.

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