We saw a lot of each other during the following months, and Dan was a lot more comfortable with me, smiling more, more open, and more animated than I'd seen previously. And we learned a lot about each other, which made me happy.
In mid-June, he introduced me to some of his friends in the neighborhood, and they seemed very likable folks. I was touched and grateful that they were so kind to him without being condescending. They treated him just as they treated everyone else, including me. Especially Big John.
He was sitting out on his porch with a group of people who were all drinking and laughing. I recognized the house as the one that had been decorated to the teeth for Halloween. He was a large, exuberant guy that everyone called Johnny who practically roared a greeting as he embraced me and welcomed me to the family.
Johnny's daughter and son were with him and they were just like their father, smiling and welcoming. His son was practically a carbon copy of his father. There were several other people there who reacted in various ways. A couple of people were more reserved, which I could understand, but more were smiling welcomingly and immediately drew me into the conversation, eager to get to know me in person since they'd heard so much about me from Dan. Johnny's son, predictably named Johnny junior but whom everyone referred to as Little John, asked me if I'd like a drink and I accepted an ice cold beer gratefully as it was a hot night.
Dan had taken one as well and I frowned a little to myself. I knew he took medications and that drinking alcohol was on the list of things to avoid. I refrained from saying anything at that time. I wasn't going to embarrass him, but I was going to watch his alcohol intake. He didn't protest when I told Little John that Dan and I would love some water after the first beer. He showed no resentment toward me for making that decision and sat close by, sipping at the water and cracking the occasional joke which had the group laughing.
I was surprised that night when I dropped him off at home and tried to take him into my arms for a hug and he flinched a little. When he saw my hurt expression he quickly explained, "I get a little nervous when people touch me and I'm not expecting it, that's all," he said sheepishly, "one day at church I was helping an elderly lady and she just touched my hair and I... well, I kinda jumped. I didn't mean to scare her but she sort of scared me first, if you know what I mean."
He blushed a little at that confession and looked down at the ground.
I gave myself a mental head slap. I had read somewhere in the many articles regarding autism that for many of them their senses were heightened. Some preferred not to be touched at all, and others needed to be asked so that they could prepare for the sensation. Up until now, I'd kept that at the forefront of my memory for this very reason. I took a breath and offered him an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you first. That was entirely my fault. Is it alright if I hug you?" I asked, trying to be more considerate, even though it was a little late.
With a grateful smile, Dan walked into my outstretched arms, snuggling in... fitting in as though he had always been meant to fill that spot.
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