An Underestimated Christmas

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An Underestimated Christmas Page 7

by Jettie Woodruff


  Flipping Tad’s pancake, I smiled at my boys. Tad was sure he was going to see Spiderman at the bridge. Nicholas was informing him that Spiderman couldn’t be there, and slid right in on telling him all about the Shakespeare Bridge. I read about this. How children with Asperger’s syndrome fixate on one thing. We took it as a sign of genius. I guess it was in some sort of way. I could never remember the things Nicky remembered.

  Just the day before, he sat on my lap and I read to him all about the Shakespeare Bridge while Tad napped on the sofa. Learning about a new bridge to Nicholas was like a new toy for Tad. Nicholas didn’t really care about toys, not like Tad did. He held them in his hand, but didn’t get on the floor and sound like a racecar or a boat motor the way Tad did.

  Nicholas didn’t climb to the back of the sofa and jump off because he thought he was Superman. Tad did. Tad built skyscrapers, barked like a dog, crawled like a snake, swam like a shark, and whatever else his little imagination could come up with. Nicholas never did those things, but I never thought anything of that, either. I assumed he was too smart, and too much like his dad to be silly like Tad and me. He took after Drew.

  Once Tad was settled in front of SpongeBob and Nicholas was settled watching the construction of the Golden Gate Bridge with my tablet and headphones, I dialed the doctor’s office.

  I had to leave my name and number because the receptionist needed to talk to Dr. Playl before scheduling me. I was a little surprised when Dr. Playl herself was the one who called back.

  “Hello, Mrs. Kelley. How are things?”

  I knew she was asking about Nicholas, but I answered thinking about more than that. Drew would be furious if I went over his head and did this. “They’re strained. I need help.” Jesus. No. Not the doctor. I didn’t even know this woman. Why on earth did this emotional breakdown come with her? Maybe because she’s the only one that knew. Maybe because I was more like Drew than I wanted to admit.

  I could have talked to someone. I had a mother who would be on the next plane if I wanted. I had Alicia who would walk through fire for me. I had Celeste who would knock the hell out of anyone I wanted, and I had Drew. I had Drew who wouldn’t talk to me about it. I had Drew who had been living in denial for the past few weeks. I had Drew who left for work without a kiss, or an I love you.

  “I’m going to send you in the right direction. Let’s get him seen by the developmental pediatrician before we go too far. There are a lot of resources, Mrs. Kelley. Kids live normal lives with this disorder every day.”

  I listened to the motivational speech from Dr. Playl, holding back sobs as I silently cried, tears streaming down my face.

  The specialist Dr. Playl suggested was on vacation and the earliest appointment I could get was nine days away. I was okay with that. I wanted to take the boys and go to my mom’s for a few days anyway, maybe crawl back to my friend on my hands and knees and beg her to come with me. I couldn’t do this alone, and if my husband wasn’t going to be there for the support than that was on him. Not me. I had people who cared about me. I didn’t need him.

  Although I knew he wouldn’t show, part of me wished he would. I looked around the bridge many times, hoping to see Drew. He never showed. The boys and I ate pizza by the bridge and walked through the park before heading home early in the evening. Drew would make it home before we did. That never happened.

  I could see the anger in his eyes when we entered the house. Nicholas ran to his lap, excited to tell him about the giant bridge. Tad stuttered around, too, wanting to tell him that Spiderman didn’t show up. Nicholas pushed him out of the way, wanting the attention from his dad.

  “Hey, don’t push your brother. Go play for a minute and let Daddy talk to Mommy for a minute. You can tell me all about it at supper.”

  Drew looked over his shoulder at the boys, making sure they weren’t looking. He grabbed my arm hard and shoved me toward the kitchen.

  “What the fuck, Morgan?” he yelled in a quiet, but stern tone. It was a yell even if his voice wasn’t elevated. “We’re not doing this. We’re not playing this fucking game. All you’re doing is adding fuel to the fire. It’s bullshit.”

  “I don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, Drew. If you don’t want to play games, then dealing me aces. Say what you want to say without a fucking guessing game,” I yelled right back with the same quiet tone, jerking my arm away from his. He pushed me back with his chest, sending my back to the counter while he spoke above me.

  “You taking off all day and being gone when I get home just to be a bitch. That’s what I am talking about.”

  “Of course it is. Forget the fact that once again, you have to make it about Drew. Forget the fact that it had absolutely nothing to do with you. I told the boys at four o’clock we needed to go. They wanted to walk across one more time. I let them. YOU! Never crossed my mind while I let them do something fun, something they wanted to do.”

  The next silent fight came at the dinner table. I ordered Chinese. That pissed him off. I let the boys have soda. That pissed him off. I made Nicholas use his spoon, over and over and over. That pissed him off. And then Nicholas had to go and blab his honest little mouth.

  “We’re going to the beach house and you can’t come. You have to work. Aunt Licia is going to sleep on the couch, right Mom?” he announced. I closed my eyes when I heard Drew’s fork hit the plate. He got up and walked away to keep from saying anything. Thanks, Nicky…

  We bathed the boys in two different bathrooms. Tad played in my bathtub while Drew had Nicky in their bathroom down the hall. That’s how the entire evening went. Drew ignored me, and I ignored him. We didn’t sit close on the couch with legs and arms tangled from our family the way we normally watched television. He sat on the end of the sofa with Nicholas and I sat on the loveseat with Tad. We did glance at each other, but that was about it. My glares shot back at him as fast as he gave them to me. And I dreaded going to bed with him.

  I was hoping Nicholas would keep him up for a while after I carried sleeping Tad to bed. I kissed Nicky on the head and told him I loved him. He moved his head, wanting me to stop blocking his view and I walked away, purposely avoiding eye contact with Drew.

  Laying in the dark room, I rubbed the back of my neck and felt the pain pill kick in. My pain wasn’t bad enough for the pill, but it helped with other things. Things like dealing with my husband who thought it was normal to flip the light on when he knew I was sleeping. I ignored him. Asshole. He left it on while he showered and crawled in bed beside me.

  “I don’t understand why you think it’s okay to suddenly make plans without consulting me first,” he started from his side of the bed.

  I wasn’t feeling angry with him anymore. I was feeling relaxed from my narcotics. I could tell him until I was blue in the face that I didn’t mean to do it that way. I merely asked Nicholas what he thought about it. I hadn’t made one definitive plan. Drew would never believe that, though. It was easier for him to believe I was trying to connive or be sneaky or some stupid assumption. I wasn’t going to argue with him.

  “Drew, I won’t go. It’s no big deal.”

  “Sure, you won’t go, and then you’ll throw it back in my face later that I wouldn’t let you go.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Am I?”

  I made sure Drew heard the frustrated breath, but I didn’t reply. I knew he

  needed something from me. I just didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know how to ease his trepidations any more than I knew how to ease my own. So Drew did what Drew does, and I let him. Maybe it made us both fucked up, but nonetheless it’s what we did, what we knew, and what brought us back together.

  Not one word was exchanged while Drew stripped me of my clothes and then ate me out. Not one word was spoken when I forced my body over his lap, needing to feel his burning hands on my ass. Not one word was mumbled while I took his cock in my ass bent over the vanity chair, and not one word was spoken when I parted my lips and I l
et him come in my mouth. We fucked, sucked, and screwed in every possible positon without one single syllable.

  I fell asleep, lost in Drew’s arms…again, without a word.

  I knew I was hurting Morgan, but dammit, she was hurting me, too. I didn’t understand why everything had to be a game with her? I had been walking on eggshells ever since that stupid fucking doctor ever suggested such a ridiculous thing. We were fine, and if Morgan would have just let it go, we could have kept being fine. I hated the tension she was causing between us. It was almost Halloween and I had been dealing with it all summer. Something had to give. And soon.

  I’m not putting all the blame on Morgan. I knew it wasn’t all her, but I did feel like she kept it going. Like she enjoyed the flame. I knew how messed up it was that I fucked her the way I did. The way she and I both reacted to each other in bed. We could express things there that we couldn’t in broad daylight. And to be perfectly honest, I think we both needed to feel that connection to keep going.

  It wasn’t that I minded her going to the beach house for a couple days at all. I actually thought it might do us some good to get away from each other for a couple days. It was the part about her not wanting me with her was the problem. Not once did she say, Drew, come with me. I need you. She was fine without me. Maybe that’s what scared me the most. Knowing she could be fine without me. I didn’t want her to be fine without me. I wanted her to be lost without me the way I was without her.

  I tried my best to let her go and think I didn’t care. That it wouldn’t bother me one bit if she was gone, but I couldn’t do it. My plan was to go to work and not say a word to her the day she left. I made it until an hour before I knew she would be leaving and sent her a text.

  Drew—Morgan?

  Morgan—Yeah?

  Drew—I <9 you.

  Morgan—I <999 you.

  Drew—always gotta be on top. Don’t leave me.

  Morgan—I’m not leaving you, Drew. We need help.

  Drew—I’ll call Deidra again.

  Morgan—Not Deidra. Deidra can’t help us. I love <3 you. I’ll call you later if you want me to.

  Drew—Of course I want you to. I <83433934323 you!!!

  Morgan—94544104534

  I laughed when I saw every number I used except for being one digit higher. I didn’t want them to go.

  I spent most of my evening alone in my office, dreading the thought of going home to an empty house. I thought about Morgan and the boys constantly, wondering if I was doing the right thing. What if I was depriving Nicholas of something he needed? No. No. I wasn’t. There was nothing wrong with Nicholas. Just because he liked bridges instead of baseball didn’t mean shit. My kid was probably smarter than most five-year-olds out there. And he wasn’t even quite five yet.

  I spent the rest of my time looking for a new bridge replica for Nicholas’s upcoming birthday. I knew he was too young for it, but I could help him. I ordered him a very expensive K-Next building kit. It was sold in the train section for those train towns people make in their basements. Nicholas would love it. He didn’t have a suspension bridge yet.

  After heating up leftovers Morgan left labeled for me in the refrigerator, I dialed Morgan.

  “Hey, talk to Nicky for a minute. Tadpole had an accident.”

  “What happened?” I asked, concerned.

  “Nothing, Drew. He had an accident in his pants.”

  Morgan’s voice never came back on the phone. I talked to Nicholas for as long as his attention span allowed. Morgan never called back after he hung up. I tried to make myself call her after I knew the boys would be asleep, but I couldn’t. She could call me just as easily as I could call her.

  We did speak briefly the next day, but not about anything. The boys playing in the water was the only reason she even talked to me, I was sure.

  “Is Alicia coming?” I asked, trading trivial conversation with my wife.

  “No. I picked a bad week to come. Celeste is out of town and Vince has school.”

  “Well, that’ll give you time to spend with your mom.”

  “No. Like I said, I picked a bad week. They’re booked and short staffed. She’s busy. It’s fine. The boys and I are just fine by ourselves.”

  “That was below the belt,” I accused. Like I needed to hear her tell me she didn’t need me. I felt it without her admitting to it.

  “That’s not what I meant, Drew.”

  “Really? How did you mean it? How else would you like to say it, Morgan?”

  “I’m not doing this. You make an issue out of nothing every time I try to talk to you.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t talk to me.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll let the boys call you later.”

  “Morgan!” I called out a second too late. Dammit. I didn’t want to do that. That was not my intention.

  I walked out to the patio with a strong drink and my phone, just in case she called back. She didn’t. Four mixed drinks and three shots later, she was still on my mind. Looking at the time on my phone, I slumped in the lounge chair more. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep without telling her I loved her. However, I couldn’t believe she let the boys call me without so much as one word. She hung up as soon as Tad was finished talking to me.

  My thumb rested on her name, keeping the light from shutting off on my phone. I wondered if she was thinking about me, or if I was the furthest thing from her mind. I jumped, startled when my phone rang and Morgan’s close-up smiled at me from my phone. I wasn’t expecting her to sound like that. I shouldn’t have let her go alone. I should have known she was ready to break. I had all the signs. Fuck. I was so fucking stupid.

  “Drew,” she cried with a shaky voice, shattering my heart. I needed to be there. I needed to hold her and tell her we were okay, that our son was okay.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “I don’t know. I just need you, Drew.”

  “I’m at least six hours away, baby. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

  “What happened to us, Drew? Why aren’t we holding each other up right now?”

  “I’m sorry, Morgan.”

  “Stop being in denial, Drew. You’re making it out to be a death sentence for all of us and it’s not. People live with autism every day,” she cried in my ear. I knew I should say something comforting, but I couldn’t. She just labeled my son and I didn’t like it. Nicholas wasn’t a statistical number.

  “You’re making it out to be the death sentence for us. Why can’t you let it go, Morgan? Why can’t we just go back to being us, before you put a label on my son?” I listened to the exasperated sigh, trying to calm down. Morgan was sad and upset. I wasn’t trying to be a dick. It just came out that way.

  “Okay, Drew. Have it your way. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Morgan, no. Don’t hang up,” I begged, hoping I wasn’t too late.

  “This isn’t helping, Drew. Let’s just talk tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to hang up. I want you to be here with me. I’m sorry. Don’t hang up.” I had to call her name again to see if she was still there. Morgan didn’t know what to say any more than I did. “Morgan?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Do you want me to come there?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m fine. I think I may have had a little too much to drink. It just made me think deeper than I should be.”

  “Hmm, I did the same thing,” I admitted. I was careful with everything I said from there on out. I knew one wrong word could set either of us off. I treaded lightly, smiling and listening to Morgan talk about the boys. We both made trivial small talk and avoided the conversation we should have been having. I half listened to Morgan talking about her mother’s bed and breakfast, and how busy they were. I didn’t care about that. My family was broken and I wanted my wife. I wanted my son to be like every other little boy. It wasn’t fair.

  Morgan didn’t deserve this, and Nicholas sure as hell didn’t deserve it. If this was karm
a trying to get even with me for things I had done, it was enough already. Karma needed to fuck with me, not my family.

  “We’re okay, Morgan. I swear,” I quietly promised before saying goodnight.

  “We have to do this, Drew.”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you, take care of my boys.”

  “I love you, too. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  I begged Morgan to bring the boys and come home for the next three days. She kept telling me maybe the next day. I finally decided to say fuck it and go to her. Luckily, the charter service I used for a private plane had a two-hour guarantee to have me in the air.

  “Oh hey, Drew,” my neighbor called from her front yard when I stopped at the end of the drive to grab the mail. I wasn’t overly friendly with Chelsea. I rudely flipped my mail when she walked toward me.

  “Hello, Chelsea,” I nodded. I hated that bitch.

  “Hi, I’ve been watching the house for Morgan. I wanted to tell her we had enough help for the bake sale.”

  “She’s not home. I’ll tell her. Is there a reason her help is no longer needed?” I condescendingly asked.

  “Oh, you know. We just don’t think it’s a good idea. We don’t want the other kids to be afraid or feel uncomfortable.”

  “And you’re afraid Morgan will scare your kids?”

  The bitch actually chuckled. “Of course not. Morgan told me about Nicholas. It’s okay, I understand. My heart goes out to you both.”

  “Yeah, and mine goes out to your stuck-up, narrow-minded, narcissistic ass. Have a good day, Chelsea,” I replied with a nod, flicking my mail to her with my wrist. Her hand instantly covered her mouth in shock. Stupid fucking bitch. I should have given Morgan permission to deck her, and let the boys piss on her ankles.

  I left work at one, I was in the air by two, and on the ground six hours later. I hated knowing the boys would be asleep before I got there.

  I should have stayed at home. Just when I thought no more distance could possibly come between us, something happened to push us further away from each other. The thought to call Morgan before I came never crossed my mind.

 

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