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Bruce had been avoiding talking to the other parents on the soccer pitch since the season began a few weeks ago. So far his resting jerk face had saved him from enduring mundane conversations and gossip going around the sidelines amongst the other parents. Only one dad kept trying to make small talk with him and Bruce wasn’t having it. One, it’s small talk something Bruce had successfully avoided all his life. Two, it was Clark Kent, a reporter from the Daily Planet. He was not telling that guy anything. But the big lug won’t take the hint no matter how rude or standoffish Bruce had been to him.
“Hiya, Bruce,” Kent greeted, closing the distance between them.
“Hrn,” Bruce grunted, moving away from Kent and keeping his eyes on the pitch watching Dick do dribbling drills. “I’m not giving you an interview, Kent.”
“You always say that, and I always tell you that I’m not here for an interview,” Kent laughed, not at all bothered by Bruce’s aloofness. “We’re just two dads at soccer practice having a chat.”
“Hrn,” Bruce glared, shoving his hands in the pockets of his oversized jacket.
Kent just smiled at him, but Bruce didn’t trust him. Kent could just as likely turn this small interaction into an interview if he wanted. It happened to Bruce only once, years ago with a reporter from the Gotham Gazette, and he wasn’t falling it for a second time. Kent was not getting the hint.
“It looks like you and Dick are adjusting quite well. He looks happy.”
Of course, Dick was happy now. He’s currently outside in the sun and fresh air running around with kids his own age. He wasn’t happy two months ago, but Bruce never pressured Dick to talk. He did make himself available to Dick in case he needed to talk (with Alfred’s intervention of course). That was really all Dick had needed; to know that someone who shared his grief and loss was there to help him. It turned out Dick was the exact opposite of Bruce. The kid loved to talk and be around people – at the same time.
“We’re fine.”
“I remember when Conner came to live with me two years ago,” Kent stated, also keeping his eyes on the pitch. “He was six. It was quite an adjustment for the both of us. Figuring out likes and dislikes. We had a hard couple of months, but soon everything came along seamlessly.
Bruce was intrigued by this new information. Perhaps he should make an effort to contribute to the conversation. His grunts and two-word answers obviously weren’t doing their job to discourage the ongoing small talk. He should say something, but what? ‘Likes’ Kent mentioned likes.
“Dick likes Cheerios and chicken nuggets but hates mac n cheese,” Bruce uttered. The information sounded much better in his head than out loud.
“Hmm, it’s likely the texture,” Kent offered, not fazed by the awkwardness of Bruce’s response. “Conner hates ground turkey and shredded chicken. But he likes the Dino nuggets.”
“What?” Bruce froze at the words ‘Dino’ and ‘nuggets’.
“Chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs. Conner loves them.”
Bruce’s eyes widened at the new information. He must tell Alfred to add Dino nuggets to the shopping list.
Bruce kept his focus on the pitch and on Dick as the discussion went extinct with ‘Dino nuggets’. There was nothing left to contribute to the encounter with Kent. He was likely going to leave anyway just like everyone else did once they got what they wanted from Bruce; realizing that Bruce was not going to carry on chatting with them. However, the dumb reporter wasn’t leaving. Was Kent trying to make ‘friends’ with Bruce? Bruce didn’t need more friends. He already had two, Jim and Selina and that was enough.
Correction, Batman had two friends, Bruce didn’t. Maybe Bruce could use a friend? Nah, he was alright. He had Dick now.
Just then Dick bumped into another kid not paying attention and got knocked to the ground. Bruce was ready to bolt to Dick’s side but both kids stayed on the ground for a while laughing. Bruce watched with fascination the easy exchange between the two boys. He could read their lips. Dick was introducing himself and Bruce caught the last sentence, ‘do you want to be friends?’. The kid quickly responded with a nod and a smile. Dick looked out to the sidelines and locked eyes with Bruce and waved.
“Hi Bruce, I made a new friend!” Dick yelled, his arm around the other boy. “His name is Conner.”
Great. This didn’t surprise Bruce at all. Dick could make friends anywhere and he made friends everywhere. Just the other day Alfred told him that Dick had made friends with a little girl in the checkout line at the store. Did this mean that Bruce had to be friends with Kent? Do they have to do playdates and get coffee now? No, no, not going to happen. The idea of having to endure more small talk with anyone made Bruce want to run far away.
But Dick needed friends and Bruce would do anything for Dick. Even endure chatting with his new friend’s parent.
“That was Conner,” Kent explained, interrupting Bruce’s thoughts. “Sorry about that. He tends to get too excited and easily distracted at times and bumps into people. We’re working on it.”
“It’s fine.”
Although having a friend who was also a parent didn’t seem like such a terrible concept in the grand scheme of things. The thought of leaving himself open to social engagements such as playdates and such made Bruce’s head hurt, but he would do it for Dick.
However, interacting with people was exhausting by itself. Interacting with people he didn’t know was far worse – it took preparation and energy Bruce had already reserved for Dick. Did he really have it in him to extend himself to someone he hardly even knew? Not to mention that someone was also a reporter!
Bruce sighed. He was getting too much in his head and overthinking an issue that wasn’t an issue…yet.
The whistle blew to indicate that practice was over. Dick came running to Bruce all sweaty and smiling. Conner immediately beelined to Kent with his arms up. Kent effortlessly scooped him up in his arms.
“Did you see me kick the ball in the goal?” Dick asked reaching for the juice box Bruce had out for him.
“Yes, I did. You were great out there, Chum.”
“Bruce, can Conner come over and play video games, please?” Dick pleaded, bouncing on his toes.
Here it was, the very thing Bruce had been dreading since Dick had made a new friend on the pitch.
“Uh, um. I don’t know if we have –,” Bruce started and cleared his throat. He couldn’t think of a good excuse to give Dick. “I need to check with –,”
“I’m sorry, Buddy, not tonight,” Kent chimed in squatting down to Dick’s level. Conner was still attached to Kent like an overgrown koala. Kent glanced up at Bruce and smiled. It was as if he caught onto Bruce’s reluctance to new people. “How about this Saturday?” Kent looked up directing the question to Bruce. “My parents have a farm with lots of space to run around. You’re both welcome.”
It was still up to Bruce to decide to go. Of course, he was going to say yes to Dick, he didn’t want to disappoint the boy. Bruce had a feeling Alfred was going to give him a strong talking to about saying no to things. But he couldn’t say no to this. Alfred even said Dick needed friends. Still the concept of going to someone else’s house wasn’t ideal, but Kent took the day, place, and time of the playdate out of Bruce’s hands. Thank goodness.
“Bruce, can we go, please? Dick begged, doing that puppy dog thing with his eyes that always made Bruce cave.
“I’m sure we can, but we’ll still have to check with Alfred,” Bruce explained already caving to Dick’s request.
“Here is the address and I put the time on there too,” Kent said, handing Bruce a business card. Bruce flipped it over and sure enough it read, ‘Clark Kent – Daily Planet’. Not the most subtle thing, but it made sense to give Bruce his business card.
“Thanks,” Bruce replied, stuffing the business card in his jeans back pocket.
The boys said their goodbyes and Bruce and Dick headed toward the parking lot. They weren’t even at the car yet and Bruce was already praying Kent would cancel; or Gotham would swallow him up in another flood before Saturday.
“Thanks for saying yes, Bruce,” Dick mumbled, playing with the straw of his empty juice box. “I know – I know doing ‘people things’ isn’t your favorite.”
“I don’t mind doing it for you,” Bruce revealed, putting his arm around Dick’s shoulder. It was true, because at least doing the ‘people things’ with Dick, Bruce was no longer alone.