“I went to the library and looked up autism and took some questionnaires online. The results all came back strongly suggesting he might be autistic. So I called the school like you said, and they were able to get him in with the county’s behavioral specialist.”
“I know it seems like the worst thing in the world.” And it does. Most parents go through this; the feeling of hopelessness. And it’s not just parents of children with autism. It’s any parent that finds out their child has an enormous feat in life.
“I just can’t believe I missed it. How did I miss it?”
“You have five kids Wendy. I mean, cut yourself some slack. What’s important is we know now, and we can move forward and get him the help he needs. The younger you find out and start getting him help, the better it will be for him.”
“Jeff is beside himself. He just can’t accept it,” she whimpers.
I hug her tighter. “He will. In time.”
“I’m so sorry we were such assholes to you. Will you forgive us?”
“Of course, I will. I love you and the kids. And I’m here to help in any way I can.”
She sniffles against my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I see Connor enter the kitchen, quickly tugging on his T-shirt realizing that we’re not alone in the house. When Wendy pulls away, she gives Connor an embarrassed smile as she wipes under her eyes. “Hi, Connor. How are you?”
“I’m good,” he answers with a sideways smirk. “You doing okay?”
“I am now,” Wendy says, squeezing my hand.
“There’s coffee,” I say pointing behind me.
“I’m going to head out and get to work, but thank you anyway.” He nods once at Wendy to say goodbye and rushes out the back door not giving me a second glance.
I frown, wondering what just happened. Is he freaking out? Or is it he’s embarrassed Wendy is here?
“So how was it?” Wendy asks, her previous sad expression having drained from her face, replaced by one of curiosity. She sips her coffee, watching me carefully.
“How was what?” I get up and head to the fridge, pulling out some fruit I cut up the day before and placing it on the middle of the table. Grabbing two forks, I plop back down in my seat beside her.
“I know he was upstairs. And I want to know everything.”
“Nothing happened,” I mumble around a piece of cantaloupe. “Just two people sleeping.”
“So you guys are . . . together? What happened to Vick?”
“A wife and kids happened,” I snort.
“What?”
Wendy stays an hour, and I explain the Vick drama, and where things are with Connor. According to her, she knew Connor and I would end up together all along.
“We’re not together,” I point out. “I don’t know what we are, actually,” I say thoughtfully. “I guess we’re feeling things out.”
“Well, keep me posted,” Wendy adds.
“Can I get the girls tonight? I’ll keep them until tomorrow evening.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Wendy sighs. “McKenzie is driving me nuts. I swear teenage girls are the devil.”
We hug once more, and I tell her, “Bring them over around two, okay.”
“Sure thing. See ya then.”
I clean up the dishes and fruit and head upstairs to shower and dress. When I come back down, I look in my fridge to see what I need for the girls tonight. I’m short on everything. When the screen door creaks and slams shut, I jump.
“Sorry,” Connor says, holding his hands up. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” I shut the fridge and face him as he leans against my counter.
“You rushed out mighty fast this morning,” I note.
“Wendy was crying, and I thought I was imposing. And I thought . . . never mind.”
“No. What?”
He scratches the back of his neck and mumbles something.
“What was that?” I ask.
“I thought . . . maybe you woke up and snuck out to avoid me.”
My shoulders droop with his admission. I hurry to him and wrap my arms around his waist. “I came down to make coffee for us.” I chuckle. “I had this romantic idea that we’d snuggle and drink coffee in bed together.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Well, Wendy showed up, and we ended up sitting down to have a much needed chat.”