Words Get In the Way

by Nan Rossiter

  “Want a beer?” Linden called as he went inside.

  “No, thanks, but I’ll have a sip of yours.”

  “Mine will be in the shower with me.”

  “Oh, well, save some for me, then.” She sank into one of the chairs on the porch and watched Henry gently stroking Springer’s soft ears. As she watched, she realized that her son seemed to be teasing the hapless dog. He’d pet him and then take his hand away, and moments later Springer would open his eyes and nuzzle Henry’s hand for more and Henry would oblige briefly but stop again, waiting for Springer to nudge him again.

  A few minutes later, Linden pushed open the screen door. His hair was wet and he was wearing a clean white T-shirt with a picture of Tuckerman’s Ravine on the back. He held his beer out to Callie, and she took it and nodded toward Henry. “Watch what my son is doing to your poor dog.” Linden watched Henry pet Springer and then stop and wait for his hand to be nudged.

  Linden grinned. “He’s just like his mother ... a big tease!”

  Callie laughed and took a sip of the beer. “Mmmm, this tastes good.” She handed it back to him. “Are you ready, finally?”

  “Yup.”

  Linden pulled the car seat out of the truck and put it back in Callie’s car.

  “I can’t believe you’re still driving this Nova,” he said.

  “Two hundred twenty-eight thousand miles!” she said proudly.

  “No!”

  “Yup!” she said, beaming.

  Linden helped Henry climb in and then pulled the seat back and got in too. He shook his head and looked around. “Lots of memories in this old car,” he said wistfully. Callie smiled, remembering too.

  Even though it was early, Harlow’s Pub was busy. Henry trundled through the crowded restaurant, wearing the headset and holding Linden’s hand. A friendly waitress showed them to a table in back, eyed Henry curiously, took their drink order, and disappeared. Linden turned Henry’s paper place mat over and, with a pen he pulled from his pocket, drew a quick sketch of a cartoonish dog that looked a lot like Springer. Henry reached for the pen and immediately began drawing what looked like a small person standing beside the dog.

  “Do you know what you’re having?” Callie asked, peering over the top of her menu. “We should try to make this quick.”

  Linden nodded. “Just waiting on you.”

  “You already know?” she asked in surprise.

  “Yup.”

  Callie looked back at the menu as the waitress returned with their drinks. “Ready to order?” she asked. Henry continued to draw and didn’t look up.

  Callie smiled. “I think so... .” She looked at Linden. “Go ahead.”

  Linden handed the waitress his unopened menu. “I’ll have a Reuben, please.”

  Callie smiled, still studying the menu and feeling the pressure of the waitress’s eyes. “Hmmm ... how ’bout an Avocado Bliss and a BLT for Henry,” she said, closing the menu and handing it to her with a smile. “Thank you.”

  Callie watched Henry drawing contentedly on the place mat and sighed. “I don’t know if it’s the headset, the pen, or you, but it’s never this easy.”

  “It’s me,” Linden said with a grin.

  Callie took a sip of her drink and shook her head.

  “So, the surgery went well and your dad woke up right before you left?”

  She nodded again.

  “What happens next?”

  “I’m not sure. Rehab, I guess.” She sighed. “I just wish he were strong enough to move back home.”

  “Maybe he will be. My uncle had stents put in after his heart attack, and he felt much better. He had to change his lifestyle though. Exercise and diet ... and my aunt had to keep after him all the time.”

  Callie nodded. “Well, I hope they move him out of ICU soon so Henry can see him. I think that’ll cheer him up.”

  “Are you going tomorrow?”

  Callie shook her head in dismay and laughed. “I don’t know. Are you free?”

  “I’ll be around all day. Reba is going to have her calf soon and I need to keep an eye on her, but if she seems okay in the morning, I thought maybe we could go for a hike.”

  The waitress brought over a tray with their sandwiches and asked if they needed anything else. They both shook their heads and she disappeared again.

  “Where are you thinking of hiking?”

  “Monadnock?” Linden replied questioningly, taking a bite of his sandwich.

  “Don’t you think that’s a little far for Henry?”

  Linden shook his head, swallowed. “I think there’s one of those L.L.Bean child carriers in the attic.”

  Callie took a bite of her sandwich and nodded thoughtfully. “Oh, my goodness, this sandwich is amazing,” she said, her mouth full. “I love avocado. Do you want to try it?”

  Linden laughed. “No, thanks, I believe you. But somehow you’ve managed to get some of that amazing avocado on your chin.”

  Callie found the avocado with her finger and licked it. “Thank you,” she said with a grin. She looked over at Henry and realized he was still drawing. “Henry,” she called, trying to get his attention, but he didn’t hear her. Linden touched Henry’s arm and pushed the plate toward him, inadvertently covering his drawing.

  Clutching the pen in his fist, Henry angrily pushed the plate away and almost spilled his milk. “Hey!” Linden said in surprise.

  “Leave him,” Callie said quietly. “If he gets upset, we’ll have to leave. I’ll just have it wrapped and he can eat it later.”

  “How do you know when he’s just being defiant?” Linden asked.

  “I don’t,” she replied, shaking her head. “That’s the hard part.”

  Callie drove slowly along the dirt road leading to the cabin. When she pulled in, several sets of startled eyes looked up, glowing mischievously. “Damn those raccoons!” Linden growled. He opened his door, and the raccoons scurried off in the direction of the river, bickering as they went, but the damage was already done: the birdfeeder was on the ground and the seed that was left was scattered across the ground.

  “You have all kinds of wildlife out here,” Callie teased.

  Linden nodded. “And some are not welcome!” He peered into the backseat and realized Henry was sound asleep. “Want to come in?”

  Callie looked in back too. “No, I better not. I’m sure I’ll have my own battle to wage when I get home.”

  “I wish it were easier for you,” Linden said sympathetically.

  “Sometimes I think it’s my punishment.” She smiled sadly, hoping Linden caught on to what she was trying to say, but he just looked puzzled.

  “Thanks for dinner. It was fun.”

  Callie nodded. “It was really nice. Thank you for the idea.”

  “You can drop Henry off as early as you’d like tomorrow, and when you get back we’ll decide about hiking.”

  “Okay. ’Night.”

  “ ’Night.” Linden closed the car door, pushed his hands into his pockets, and watched as the Nova’s taillights slowly disappeared into the darkness. Then he picked up the battered, empty birdfeeder and leaned it against the corner of the porch. He opened the screen door and the dogs bounded past him off the porch, eager to track the interlopers. Linden watched them for a few minutes and then smelled another strong scent drifting through the air. “C’mon, you two! In!” The dogs took care of business and then reluctantly padded up the steps ... just as a ball of black and white fur waddled around the corner of the house.

  Linden wandered into the room off the kitchen, turned the light on over his drawing table, and studied his painting. He reached for a brush, gently slapped the dust from it, and then squeezed some fresh colors onto his palette. He swished the brush into the water jar and began to wet the paper with it. While he worked, he thought about Henry ... and later, before he went to bed, he dug out an old sketch pad and pencil set for him.

  33

  It seemed that the absence of sunlight overnight had done littl
e to fend off the oppressive heat wave that rolled back in at dawn. Callie listened to the weatherman as she made coffee. “One more day of this heat and then we’ll have some storms roll through tomorrow afternoon and hopefully push it out of here. Some storms will be severe, though, so keep an eye on the sky. Once they pass, we’re setting up for a nice weekend: sunny and low humidity with temps in the eighties.”

  “Thank goodness!” Callie murmured. It was almost too hot to drink coffee. One cup, just to get going, she thought, and the rest is going in the fridge for iced coffee. She clicked the coffeemaker off as soon as it was done brewing, poured steaming coffee into the U.S. Navy mug, and took the mug down the hall with her to take a quick shower.

  A half hour later, Henry was sitting at the table, devouring his second blueberry muffin, and Callie was packing the rest of them to take to Linden’s. She took the last one out of the microwave, broke it open, smoothed butter between the two halves, leaned against the counter, and took a bite. It practically melted in her mouth.

  To her dismay, Henry had slid the headset over his ears as soon as she’d finished combing his hair. It had been a struggle to get him to take them off the night before, but he’d finally agreed and let Travelin’ Bear wear them to bed. The poor bear’s head had been sandwiched so much that only his nose was visible. Callie had become increasingly skeptical of the idea. She needed Henry to communicate, not shut the world out. And although the headset might help in certain situations, he definitely couldn’t wear them all the time.

  He was still wearing them, though, when they got to the cabin and she had to gingerly lift the v-belt up around them to get it over his head. Linden scooped Henry up. “Here’s my helper,” he said, pulling one headphone away from Henry’s ear as he spoke, but Henry furrowed his brow and immediately pushed it back. “Hmmm,” Linden surmised. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

  Callie nodded. “Maybe you could lose them today,” she said hopefully.

  “We’ll work on it.”

  “How’s Reba?”

  Linden pointed to a shady corner of the meadow. Both cows and the little mule were munching contentedly, but Reba’s sides were visibly swollen. “She seems okay,” Linden said. “I called Cindy this morning, and she said that the earliest she can get here is tomorrow so, hopefully, Reba will wait.”

  “Are you still thinking of going for a hike?”

  “Sure ... if you think it’s not too hot. I found the child carrier.”

  “Well, do you want me to pick up grinders on my way back and we’ll have a picnic?” She suddenly remembered the muffins and reached back into the car for the container.

  Linden lifted off the top and peered inside. “Hmmm, we’ll have no trouble with these, will we, Henry?” But Henry was too busy saying hello to the dogs, and couldn’t hear him anyway. Linden shook his head and turned his attention back to Callie. “Grinders sound good.”

  “What kind would you like?”

  “You know me. I’m happy with ham and Swiss, lettuce, tomato, mustard, and mayo.”

  “Still?” she teased, remembering that had been Linden’s staple lunch when they were in high school.

  “It’s better than PB and J every day.”

  “Hey, that was my dad’s specialty,” Callie said, pretending to be offended.

  “Did you ever think of making your own lunch?”

  “No, my dad always added a special ingredient.”

  Linden looked puzzled. “And what was that?”

  “Love.”

  Linden grinned. “Oh, so what you had was really a PBJ and L sandwich,” he teased.

  “Yup,” Callie said, laughing.

  Linden laughed too. “Well, add L to my sandwich too.”

  “I will, but I don’t know if the deli person’s L is as good as my dad’s.”

  After Callie pulled away, Linden called the dogs and Henry unwittingly traipsed along after them. He climbed the porch steps and immediately noticed the pad of paper and pencils Linden had found for him. He sat down at the table and Linden squatted down next to him and opened the pencil case; but when Henry reached for one, Linden put his hand over the case. Henry looked up and Linden motioned for him to take the headset off. At first, Henry furrowed his brow, but then slipped the headset off and put it on the table. Linden put the pencil case on the table too, and Henry picked one up and began to draw. While he was drawing, Linden took the muffins and headset inside and then came back out and sat in one of the chairs with his own pad and pencil.

  34

  Ben Wyeth was sitting up, watching the news, and having breakfast when Callie peered around his door. “Wow! You must be feeling better!”

  Ben smiled. “There you are,” he said with a smile. He looked around for Henry. “Where’s the little guy?”

  “Dad, you’re still in ICU, so he’s still with Linden.”

  “Oh, right, I forgot. How is he?”

  “Which one?” Callie asked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

  “Both,” Ben answered, trying to push his breakfast tray to the side.

  “Are you finished eating?” Callie asked, helping him.

  “Except for this,” he answered, holding up his coffee cup. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks. I’m all set.” Callie studied her dad’s face and noticed that his color was much better than she’d seen in a long time. “They’re fine. Henry’s still not talking, but he loves spending time with Linden and his animals, especially his dogs. When Henry’s there, they are inseparable, and Linden thinks Henry wants to take them home with him.” She grinned. “I think he’s right.”

  Ben nodded thoughtfully. “I’m still concerned about him not talking, though, Cal. You should get in touch with Asa Coleman’s wife, Maddie, at the elementary school. She’s always been wonderful with the special ed kids, and I’m sure she’s had kids like Henry ... not that he’s special ed. But her brother Tim has Down’s syndrome. That’s what inspired her to start working with them.”

  Callie nodded. “I will.”

  Ben smiled. “And, how’s Linden? Has he forgiven you yet?”

  Callie shook her head. “I don’t know, Dad. We haven’t even talked about it. He doesn’t ask any questions about Henry’s father. At the same time, he’s so good with Henry, and Henry mimics everything he does. He’s like a little shadow, and he definitely cooperates with Linden better than he does with me.” She shook her head. “Maybe he senses that Linden is more easygoing than I am. I don’t know. I can’t quite figure it out.”

  Ben nodded. “Linden’s a good guy, Cal. He’s nothing like his high-strung mother.”

  “That’s a polite description,” Callie teased, remembering how Linden’s demanding and overbearing mother had stood, looking at them with her hands on her hips.

  Ben laughed. “I know. I’m trying to be good!”

  “Linden wants to go for a hike this afternoon, so maybe we’ll get a chance to talk.”

  Ben nodded. “It sounds like he’s good for Henry, and I know he’s good for you. Don’t let him go, Cal. I need to know there’s someone to take care of you two.”

  “You need someone to take care of you too,” Callie said. “And I’m hoping you’ll be able to come home soon.”

  Ben put his head back on his pillow. “That’d be nice... .”

  They were both quiet, lost in their own thoughts, and then Ben took Callie’s hand. “You should go. Those boys are waiting for you.”

  Callie squeezed his hand. “I know, but I’ll be back tomorrow.” Ben held out his empty coffee cup, and Callie put it on the tray for him and gave him a hug. “Love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you too, kiddo, more than you’ll ever know!”

  Callie pulled into Linden’s driveway and the self-appointed welcoming committee bounded off the porch to greet her. “Yes! I have food!” she said, laughing, as Springer tried to climb over her, sniffing and wiggling.

  “Springer,” Linden called. “Hop out of there.” Springer backed
clumsily out of the car, still wagging his tail hopefully and still working the air with his nose. Linden shook his head. “You are completely hopeless!”

  “I know,” Callie said, “I can’t help it.”

  Linden laughed. “I wasn’t talking about ...”

  Callie grinned. “... me? I am, though.”

  “I don’t think I’d go that far,” Linden teased.

  Callie smiled and looked away. “So, are you guys ready?”

  “We are. But you need to see something first.”

  Callie gave him a puzzled look, and Linden motioned for her to follow him. They climbed the porch steps, and Callie immediately noticed that Henry wasn’t wearing the headset.

  “How’d you get him to take them off?” she whispered.

  Linden smiled. “That’s not it. Look.” He pointed to Henry’s paper, and Callie looked over his shoulder. The page was full of drawings, and although they were simple, Callie could tell right away that they were all of Linden’s animals. There were two cows, one fatter than the other; two cats, one colored in, one lighter; a mule; two dogs; lots of chickens; and an owl peering down from a tree.

  “Wow! Henry, that’s beautiful!” Henry looked up and seemed to beam. It was a look Callie had never seen before, and her eyes filled with tears. She looked at Linden. “Those are really good for a three-year-old.”

  Linden nodded. “They’re really good for an any-year-old.”

  Henry looked back down at his paper and continued to draw. This time he concentrated on a small person that looked similar to the one he’d drawn on the paper place mat the night before. This time, however, he placed the person right in the middle of all the animals, but closest to the dogs.

  Callie shook her head in disbelief. Henry had always had access to crayons and coloring books at home, but she’d never seen him draw anything on his own before. She glanced over at another pad that had been left open on one of the chairs. She moved around to look at it. “Hey, this is pretty good too,” she exclaimed. Linden smiled and shrugged, and Callie picked it up. “It looks just like him.”