A l'automne

I reached a hand from underneath my white haven of blankets to part the blinds, and peer below to the busy, and bustling New York streets. The ground was littered in dirty snow, while the rooftops were untouched by a human hand, and were left as white as flour. The sun glinted off the ice and the drops of the dew from the bit of morning I hadn't been awake to witness.
I reluctantly stepped out of bed, shivering as my bare feet made contact with the cold hardwood floor. The ceramic tiled bathroom floor was no better, but the steam and warmth of the shower comforted me, almost protecting me from the cold air awaiting me beyond the fogged glass door.
From the hot shower, back to my cold bedroom; I quickly dried, and dressed appropriately for the cold day.
I felt like I was a mess, but I exited my apartment anyway, ready to face the world. Across the hall, my company from the previous night emerged as well, and not alone either. By his side, stood a small, blonde boy; sharing some vague resemblances to his older, and taller companion.
I looked from the boy, to Norman, he held a smile. "Good morning." He greeted me.
I smiled back, one not reserved for him only, but also for the fair boy beside him.
"Good morning." I offered back.
Norman looked as if he'd forgotten something, "This is my son," he placed a proud, fatherly hand upon the boys shoulder, "Mingus." He announced, looking down at the small figure, a look in his eyes and posture that was just as proud as his grip.
For a moment, I was dumbfounded and jealous of the boy for having such a lovely and present father.
Upon realizing my slight greed, I immediately, and silently cursed myself. I proceeded to lean down, eye-level to the young boy, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mingus, I'm Autumn." I smiled.
He actually wasn't much shorter than I; I was only 5'3" and no doubt, in time would he turn out taller than even that.
The boy glanced up to his father, grinned, and shook my hand. He was younger than ten, and no older than sixteen.
I was never reluctant to kids, I just never really grew up around people younger than me, so I didn't have a whole lot of knowledge on what to say or how to treat them. I was twenty-nine, single, never been married, and childless, so that has a lot to do with it, too. In a way I was always afraid to start a family, I didn't want to be the one in my family that it didn't work out with, and ended up divorced, or widowed.
"Would you like to join us?" Norman's voice shook me from my thoughts.
"I would love some company, actually." It then occurred to me, I was out for only coffee, and had no idea their agenda.
I had the pleasure of listening to the bonding of a father and son. Son telling stories and laughing and smiling; father listening intently and fascinated.
I'd been so awe-struck by the conversing between the two, I knew not how quiet I'd been until Mingus asked me why I was, in fact, so quiet.
"I'm more of a listener myself." I replied with little thought, and complete honesty.
"That's what dad says."
I glanced up to Norman, he was smiling at my interaction with the boy. But somehow, in his eyes, I could tell or maybe sense that children weren't exactly my forte.
Listening to Mingus speak and what he had to say, one could merely tell he was an intelligent child. Not stupid and ignorant, but observant and clever.
The three of us arrived at my original intended destination, and apparently theirs as well.
It was difficult trying to convince Norman not to buy my coffee and breakfast, but I ultimately had to cave, seeing as he wouldn't let up.
I was quiet through the meal, watching the two interact on a level I never could with my own father. I was envious, but grateful Norman didn't take his child for granted.