There really is a lot more I could tell her. Like how I admire the way David says whatever he wants to without worrying about offending people—?I wish I could be more like that. And how I know that his impatience with stupidity would never turn into anger against me or into actual cruelty against anyone—?because, deep down, he just wants to defend the weak and helpless and disenfranchised, and it’s his fears for them that make him so frustrated and easily annoyed with how wrong people can be.
And how he treats my sister like a human being. Not like a pet, not like an idiot, not like an alien. He includes her, talks to her, listens to her, and occasionally gets irritated with her.
And how when he and I are alone together, his desire for me makes my knees weak and my pulse race. And how I like being the first girl he’s ever gotten this close to, ever even kissed.
How all he wants when we’re alone in the dark is to please me—?to spark my desire until it equals his. I enjoy making him work for it, sometimes even tease and torture him until he’s a little desperate, but the truth is . . . the desire’s there already. I adore his slim, strong body, his slender hands, his dark eyes, his neat ears, his warm neck. All of him, in fact.
I admired and enjoyed James’s body when we were going out, the way you would a work of art that you’ve been given permission to touch, but with David, it’s not like that. He’s not a piece of sculpture. He’s flesh and blood and bone and skin and everything that’s warm and real and passionate.
Forty
MR. AND MRS. FIELDS visit Ethan and discover that we went to the school without their permission. They’re not as pissed as I thought they might be, maybe because Ethan seems fine and David didn’t try to kidnap him or anything.
Mrs. Fields complains that the car trip was too hard on the baby, who apparently screamed the whole way there and back. Mr. Fields says they’ll leave him with a babysitter the next time they go, but Mrs. Fields is horrified by that idea—?the school is too far away, and “if Caleb needed me while we were gone, I’d never forgive myself.” She doesn’t exactly refuse to go back, but she rejects any possible solution, and ultimately the job of visiting Ethan falls mostly to David.
I’m convinced that both Mr. and Mrs. Fields have hated me ever since we argued with them about sending Ethan away. They’re pretty cold whenever I come by their house and, no matter how charming I try to be, they never fuss over me or invite me to dinner the way James’s parents always did.
David doesn’t care. “It’s not like their opinion matters to me. In fact, if they approved of you, I’d be worried.”
“I know, but I like people to like me.”
“It’s your biggest flaw,” he says, and I don’t think he’s joking.
I don’t care. I want to be able to go to his house and feel comfortable and welcome.
There is one member of the family who hasn’t made up his mind about me, so I throw myself into entertaining the baby every time I go over. I squeeze his chubby little legs and play peekaboo and repeat the la-la sounds he makes and bring him stuffed animals to chew on. Mrs. Fields seems a little uneasy with all this enthusiasm at first, but since she believes her baby is irresistible, she doesn’t actually question my sincerity. When Caleb laughs and gurgles at me, she starts meting out a few thin, begrudging smiles of her own.
On one visit, I extend my hands toward him invitingly, and he reaches for me. “May I hold him for a second?” I ask Mrs. Fields.
“Have you ever held a baby before?”
“Yes,” I say, because I have, but she still hovers warily as I take him in my arms.
I don’t want to freak her out, so I just hold him for a minute or two. I bounce him gently and say silly things and blow soft little noises on his cheeks and hand him back. He reaches out to me like he wants more.
Mrs. Fields says, “He really likes you.”
“He’s adorable.” I flash a big white-toothed smile at her.
And, yes, I’m deliberately trying to make her like me, and I’m calculating enough to know that the best way to do it is through her kid, but I also mean it. Caleb is super-cute and pretty good-natured for a baby. What’s not to like?
“I just wish he’d start saying words.” Mrs. Fields kisses the top of his head. He twists in her arms to keep looking at me, and I scrunch up my face to make him giggle. “I know it’s still early, but I’ll feel so much better when he starts talking. You know—?with the family history and all.”
“He seems totally fine to me. I don’t think you need to worry.”
“Really?” Her face lights up.
“I mean, yeah,” I say. “He’s a great baby. Even if he’s autistic, he’s a great baby.”
She doesn’t seem to find that as reassuring as I meant it to be, but she manages a weak smile, and when I offer to hold him again, she not only hands him over, but asks me if it’s okay if she runs upstairs for a minute while I’m with him.
“Of course!” I say. “And, honestly, anytime you need a babysitter, I’m happy to do it. You don’t even have to pay me. It would be fun.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” she says.
David is sitting at the kitchen table during this exchange, but as soon as his stepmother leaves the room, he gets up and comes over. “You’re shameless,” he says.
“Stop it. Look how cute your brother is. Just look at him.”
He touches Caleb’s little feet. “He is kind of cute,” he admits.
“He’s perfect.”
“If you can overlook who his parents are. And how often he craps his diaper.”
“You’d crap your diaper a lot too if you had to wear one all the time.”
“Who says I don’t?” While we’re talking, he’s still playing with Caleb’s toes and the baby’s making noises that are almost words and reaching for David’s face.
“Do you ever just play with him?” I ask.
“Not really. Ethan and I are—?were—?usually off by ourselves. I think Margot preferred that—?didn’t want to risk all that autism rubbing off on the baby, you know.” He blurps a raspberry on Caleb’s chubby arm.
“Well, now that Ethan’s not around, you should spend more time with him. This kid’s got potential to be a decent human being.”
“Then he shouldn’t hang out with me. I’ll ruin him.”