Dear Evan Hansen Oneshots! (A-Z)

B is for Baby Pictures and Books

Cynthia Murphy looked up from her scrap booking supplies as she heard the doorbell ring. There was no one else downstairs on a Thursday afternoon. Her children were cooped up in their rooms, doing their best to ignore the rest of the family, and her husband, Larry, was still working at the office. As a last resort to entertain herself, she had turned to scrap booking as a hobby. She got up to answer the door, brushing scraps off her lap.

When she opened the door, a nice-looking boy in a polo shirt was standing there nervously. She smiled warmly, "You must be Evan. I'll call Connor for you."

He nodded gratefully, not maintaining proper eye contact. As he waited, he studied the pictures scattered on a nearby coffee table. They were of Connor and his family. In one, a seven-year-old Connor smiled at the camera with a gap toothed smile. In another, toddler versions of Zoe and Connor splashed each other in a kiddie pool while their parents watched on protectively. What a perfect family. Evan's mom was too busy to take this many pictures of his childhood. He was so absorbed in the old snapshots, that he didn't even notice Mrs. Murphy coming back down the stairs. She followed his gaze down to the mess of memories on the table, "They're all grown up now."

He noticed the nostalgic look in her eyes.

"Here," Cynthia handed him a worn, blue book. "There are some great ones in here."

Evan mumbled, "Thank you."

Soon, Connor had appeared at the top of the stairs. He grinned at his friend, "Come upstairs."

Evan hurried after Connor until they had arrived at his room. "Not that I'm complaining, but what brings you here?" Connor inquired.

Evan fidgeted with his shirt, "We really need to work on the project about connecting with different generations than our own. It's due in two days."

"Oh!" Connor stood up and threw on his hoodie. "That reminds me." He started walking downstairs and out the door.

Evan followed him, "Where are we going?"

"I forgot to tell you that I sort of volunteered us to read at the library for the little kids at 4. Which is in...five minutes. I thought we could connect with a younger generation. Get in the car."

"Oh," said Evan as he jumped into the passenger's seat.

"What do you mean 'oh' ?"

"I was hoping for an...older generation."

"You like old people. Of course."

"I-I had bad experiences with my little cousins," Evan shuddered, the lingering trauma still fresh on his mind. "They...s-sat on me."

Connor shrugged, "I like little kids. They're cute. Even Zoe was cute. Emphasis on was. I don't know what happened to her over the past decade."

Evan opened up the book of pictures as Connor drove into the parking lot. He couldn't help laughing out loud at the first picture. Baby Connor was sitting in a diaper with chocolate all over his face and hands. At least Evan hoped it was chocolate.

Connor parked and glared at Evan as they got out of the car, "What's so funny?"

As they walked toward the library doors, Evan turned to the next page to find a slightly older Connor chewing on a crayon. He was determined not to laugh, but his face was going red from the effort. They waited to take the elevator up to the kids' section and Evan couldn't take it anymore. He let out his amusement in a huge snort.

Connor looked at him strangely and then realized what Evan was holding.

"Who gave that to you?!" Connor blushed in embarrassment.

Evan didn't get to see Connor blush much, and this would be one memorable incident he probably wouldn't forget for a long time.

Connor attempted to wrestle the albums away from Evan, but Evan held on tightly.

"But Connor," Evan whined annoyingly. "You look so cute. I won't make fun of you. I promise."

Connor finally let go, "Fine. But you're reading first."

They were greeted by a frenzied librarian. She pushed them towards two chairs in the center of a carpet decorated with the alphabet, "Goodness me! You two are right on time! Sit down, sit down! Who's reading first?"

Evan raised his hand timidly and stuttered, "M-me."

She handed him a picture book entitled "The Three Little Pigs" and reminded him, "The little ones will be here any second. Remember: project and speak slowly and clearly. Use different voices. They love that."

Evan nodded, trying to retain all the advice she had given him.

The two of them sat on the chairs and watched as the room filled up with about two dozen kids from about one to six years old.

His hands were sweating. He only had to get through ten pages, no big deal. He couldn't mess up.

Evan opened the book, but it took a little longer than he would have preferred because the pages were stubbornly stuck together. He managed to get through the whole book, only stuttering about 4 or 5 times. He was proud of himself for not slipping up too much, but the kids were probably disappointed. He knew he was terrible at reading out loud.

As Evan handed the book back to the librarian, Connor gave him an encouraging smile and picked up his own book which was titled, "Alice In Wonderland".

Connor read slowly and with different inflections. The result was a very capturing story telling. All the little kids scooted closer and gazed up at him in awe. Evan himself couldn't help being drawn in to the story. When the Cheshire Cat showed up, Connor grinned goofily, sending the crowd of youngsters into a giggling fit. He also filled in his own sound effects. Every time Connor glanced over at Evan, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Then it struck Evan: Connor really liked little kids. And they seemed to love him right back.

When the story was finished, the children clapped excitedly and Evan clapped along with them.

They had just left the kids' room when Evan nudged Connor, "I didn't know you were such a softie."

Connor shot daggers with his eyes, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"When you were with those kids you didn't act tough, you were just plain nice like you sometimes are with me."

"What did you expect?" Connor scoffed. "For me to punch a baby?"

Evan laughed, "Being nice is not necessarily a bad thing, Connor. It's good to be a sweetheart."

"Of course you would say that."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, please. Everyone knows you're the most innocent, sweetest bean alive." (A/n: anyone who thinks different better fite me...jk pls don't hurt me)

Evan gave Connor a confident look, "I know you don't consider that a compliment, but I do."

Connor shrugged, "Well maybe I want someone to look up to me. Maybe I don't want to have to be Connor Murphy, the bad influence. Or Connor Murphy, the kid who is always high and wants to kill himself. The only thing that those little kids know about me, is that I can read a book. And they don't ask for anymore than that."

Evan just stared at Connor for a minute. Then he finally asked, "Connor, have you always been this angsty?"

Connor shrugged again, "Yeah, I guess..."

Evan smirked, "Because this smiling baby Connor suggests otherwise."

Connor snatched at the book thay Evan was once again skimming through, "Give it to me, Hansen."

"No!" Evan said stubbornly.

"Whatever," Connor rolled his eyes and drove them back to his house.