Page 46 of A Little Christmas: Rivi
“Yes. You don’t like black?”
He shook his head.
“What do you like?”
“Pink.” He squished his lips together in an almost-frown. “And purple, too. And shorter than that one. It’s too long over the hips. When I put it on I felt like I was wearing a dress.”
Noted. No dresses.
I went to the bed and picked up some items. I could immediately tell which ones were Rivi’s. They were the morecolorful clothes, and t-shirts with cute pictures on them, some with glitter. He had two pullover sweaters, a pale pink one and a red one. I loved how he looked in red, so I took that one and a pair of black slacks that were probably Ozzy’s and held them up.
“These would look very good together.”
He leaned his chin on the palm of his hand and contemplated.
“No?” I asked when he was quiet for too long.
“Yes. I like it. But is it too casual?”
“Not at all.” I glanced about and saw his purse. I snatched it and held it up, knowing from my past experience that littles often wanted a childish offset to an outfit. “Look, this would look very good with it, crossed over your shoulder and chest.”
“Pink with red?”
“Of course.” It wouldn’t fit for every man, but for Rivi it would be right. And incredibly cute.
“What blazer, then?”
“Well, not the black,” I said, laughing. It would be nice, but for someone like me, not this forlorn little.
I sorted through the pile of clothes and found a fancy white jacket with a pattern of thin, black squiggly lines. It was shorter than the other blazer. I held it up. “This?”
“Really? Stripes?”
“They’re not stripes. They’re curvy lines.”
“I love them. But….” He chewed on the palm of his hand.
“But nothing. You should wear what you love.”
“Thanks for saying that.” He jumped forward, grabbed the clothes from me and ran toward his bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
While he was gone, I tidied up the clothing, folding some, finding discarded hangers for others.
When the bathroom door opened, Rivi stood before me. The clothes looked great on him. And suited his personality. I handed him the purse, and he put it over his shoulder. Too cute.
“That looks fantastic,” I said.
He kicked up one leg. “My feet are bare.”
“Easily fixed. Where are your socks?”
He showed me where he’d put them in a dresser drawer. They were bright socks. Neon. What else was I expecting?
I took a pair of blinding green socks and said, “Let’s add a spice of color down there.”
“Yes!” His eyes were bright.
He sat on the bed and bent over to put them on.
