Blinded by Limerence

74 | His Name

The following day was a school day like any other.

Morgan brought Nick to his kindergarten class, and after a few lonely hours at home, waiting for the hours to pass, the time finally came to go fetch him. He'd tell her all about his day at school, about what he and his friends did, and it was always the highlight of her day, if she was being honest.

She loved how her son was loving life, and he by all means should, before all the problems and stress of this world would eventually find their way to her precious little boy.

It was a quarter past three when Morgan found herself standing outside his kindergarten. She wondered what was taking him so long as she peered around the outsides of his school to see if she had somehow missed him running out. She was getting older, after all, and her eyesight isn't what it used to be.

What if Nick's been kidnapped? What if he's being held for ransom? Morgan's inner monologue panicked. Do I even have enough money to pay? Maybe I could haggle the price — after all, dealing with Nick's no easy feat — perhaps the kidnappers would even just give him back after an hour or two alone with him —

But then, sure enough, Nick was running across the pavement a few moments later, a little girl with blonde pigtails in tow. 

The feelings of apprehension ebbed away, and Morgan soon found herself wondering whether Nick had made a new friend or decided to keep this new girl friend secret from his mother. 

Ah, memories, she thought reminiscently. 

"Hiya, mommy!" Nick smiled up at his mom, pulling her into a warm embrace, and Morgan, in turn, wished he'd never grow up — or at least, never grow too old for very public hugs with his mom. 

When they pulled away, Morgan stared at Nick then at the girl then back at Nick again. 

"Nicky, care to introduce me to your new — lady friend?" she asked before mentally berating herself at her choice of words. She didn't know what lingo kids these days spoke, but then again, even back in her day no one said 'lady friend' unironically. 

"This is Lexi," beamed Nick, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "She's the new kid."

Lexi nodded enthusiastically, her pigtails bouncing up and down at the action. "Dom's been really nice to me!"

At that, Nick's smile dropped, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he turned to face Lexi with a look of distaste. "Lexi, I've told you," he deadpanned, seemingly annoyed. He folded his arms across his chest indignantly. "It's Nick, not Dom. Nick is short for Dominick."

"I just don't see the big deal —"

"Just call me Nick, okay?" Nick said, with a softer voice this time. Morgan was more than a bit surprised; he had never seen Nick look so... aggravated? 

As soon as Lexi nodded, deciding not to ask further, someone called her name from across the parking lot. Morgan could only assume it was her parents coming to fetch her, too — a woman, looking to be in her mid-30s, with vibrantly golden hair, and a man behind her with hair of the same color in a station wagon. 

"Better run along now, Lexi," said Morgan, gentling pushing her in the direction of the calls that were sounding nearer by the second.

Lexi nodded again, and once more, her ponytails flew in the wind. "I'll see you tomorrow, D— I mean, Nick." With that, she ran off to her parents.

As Morgan and Nick silently made their way to her car, Morgan couldn't get over the scene she had just witnessed.

"Nicky?" she ventured. 

"Yeah, mom?"

"Er — what was that earlier? Why're you so hellbent on Lexi calling you Nick? Dom's acceptable, too, you know," said Morgan. "You probably scared Lexi."

Nick defiantly shook his head, clearly having no regrets about the whole thing. "You don't remember, mommy? You told me a few months ago why I was named Dominick Trevor Parks. You told me —"

"That that was what your father would've wanted to name you," Morgan finished his statement, a look of dawning comprehension on her face, to which the young boy nodded eagerly.

"I — I don't have a daddy, you know? So — so I kinda figured this was a nice way to feel like I have one..."

As soon as the words had slipped out of her son's lips, Morgan felt like crying again. Nick deserved the world, but she's unable to give him that. 

It truly touched her that Nick, despite his young age, had remembered something she said like that — and kept it in his heart, for that matter. Her first memory, on the other hand, was probably forcefully cramming eight crayons up her nostrils in elementary school — don't ask.

Before she even knew it, a smile was tugging the corners of her lips while her brown eyes were brimming with fresh tears. She was suddenly feeling pleased with herself for picking his eloquent name; it really did hold a lot of meaning.

She was suddenly taken back to a night long ago, when she still worked at The Brew. She was closing up late, and there Trevor was, as determined as ever to sit down and have a coffee with her. Sure, she had said a lot of embarrassing things then, but the memory had a special place in her heart nonetheless as Trevor was so honest and candid about his feelings that night that it allowed her to look at him in a new light.

That was also when he first revealed his insecurities to her, something she didn't think he had, much less expected to share.

He had said, on that cold night so many years ago, that he wouldn't want to name his child after himself because he wouldn't want his child to end up like him — but there are worse things than ending up like Trevor Parks. In fact, what he didn't know was that anyone would've been lucky to even be remotely like him. 

Granted, Trevor had his faults, but at the end of the day, he's the person Morgan wanted her son to look up to the most.

That's the story behind his name.

"Hey, Nicky?" Morgan began tentatively as she unlocked the car for the pair of them.

"Yeah, mommy?"

"I'm taking you somewhere."

At that, Nick cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow raised curiously. "I thought we were gonna see your old friend?" he said, and Morgan shook her head.

"That can wait till tomorrow. There's something we need to do first — something I should've done long ago."