by C. Morgan
“Sure, you will. You’re making great improvements, Taylor. I want you to use the instruments at home and do your practices like I showed you the first day. Have you been doing that?”
He nodded but looked frustrated. “Some.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
“I just never find the time.” He had been a little reluctant to come to classes. “My dad is always busy and has things for me to do.”
“I understand it can be hard to do them, but you can find the time if you make the time. But you have to be a little creative. How about before you go to sleep? You can do them during TV time when a commercial or ad pops up. You can do them on the car ride to and from school and even on the way home from your appointments. And don’t forget the exercises I taught you. Those are very important too.”
I had given him a set of tools that he could use to help him along. He had developed a speech impediment while learning to talk, and now I was helping him learn how to make the sounds he was having problems with.
“It makes me look weird.” He rolled his eyes and sank in his seat.
“Well, I must look pretty weird to you too then,” I said with a half-smile. “I do this every day.”
“You don’t look weird,” he said with a giggle.
“Taylor, it’s only for a little while, and then you’ll be talking better. I know you want that. Sometimes, the things we want take work, but it’s worth it. And if you believe in yourself, that’s going to make it a lot easier. I believe in you.”
He gave a nod. “I’ll try harder.”
“Okay, let’s go through that last one again, just once before you leave.” I wanted to make good use of every minute I had with him, whether it was instruction or encouragement. All moments could be teachable ones.
He stiffened his jaw. “Tth.” Then he growled with frustration.
“Relax, Taylor. Don’t clench your jaw.” He had a hard time remembering that. “Take it slow. We’re in no hurry here.”
He looked up at me with his big blue eyes. He was a typical six-year-old, and I couldn’t wait until my little Jack was his age. I thought of the conversations we’d have.
Taylor took a deep breath, then let it out. “T-T-T-D-D-D.” His eyes widened at his accomplishment.
“You did it!” I gave him a high-five. “Do you know what that means?”
“I’ll get to make a different sound next time?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders with uncertainty.
“Yes, you do. Now, can you guess which one?” I had given him and his father an exact layout of the progression we’d make.
“No,” he said perfectly clearly.
I smiled. “You just made it. When you said no, you used the N sound. So it should be a breeze for you. Maybe I’ll get to send you on to the next section.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yes, that means that you’d be ahead. But I need you to practice. Can you promise me you’ll do that?” I gave him a curious grin as I waited on his response.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” I turned and waved his father in. He had been sitting right outside the door, watching through the window when he wasn’t on his phone.
The man came in, and his son ran over to hug him. “I did it,” said Taylor, who was jumping for joy. “I get to move on!”
“That’s great, buddy.” His father, Luke Douglas, who was tall, dark, and handsome, helped gather his son’s things. “Why don’t you wait outside the door and I’ll be right out?”
“Bye, Mrs. Whitmore.” He hurried out, and his father shut the door behind him and turned to face me.
“So how’s he really doing?” asked Luke. “If there’s a problem, I—”
I waved my hand as if to dismiss his notions. “He’s actually doing very well, and I’ve seen much worse cases than his who have completely reversed. So, I’m hopeful.”
“So, you think you can straighten it out?”
“Yes, I believe so, but I need your help. Taylor says he doesn’t have a lot of time for his exercises. I’ve suggested to him a few different times, like before bedtime and in the car, but I know he’s going to be a little self-conscious doing that in front of others, including you. So if you could encourage it and maybe do the exercises with him or make a game out of it, then I’d appreciate it.”
“I can do that,” he said, smiling as he looked me up and down. “You know, he really likes you.” He stepped a little closer, causing me to take a step back.
“And I like him. He’s a great boy, and you should be very proud.” I could already tell what he was getting at.
“Well, I can see why he’s so enamored with spending so much time with you.” He was doing his best to flirt, and even though I knew he was a single father, I wasn’t interested. I had enough on my plate, and it was simply too soon.
“Thanks,” I said, packing up my things for the day. “I guess I’ll see you next session.”
“Or perhaps before? We might bump into each other. You never know around here.” He gave me a wink and turned toward the door where Della stood holding Jack.
She had a sly look on her face, and when Luke walked away, she giggled. “Oh, now I know why you took on this late session. He’s a fox.”
“It’s not that. It’s the only time he has to bring his son in. He’s a single father, and it’s not easy on him.” Most people accommodated single mothers, but single fathers didn’t have the same sympathy in some situations. I had offered to stay half an hour later, once a week, to help him out.
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s extremely handsome?” She gave me a look as if daring me to deny it.
“Della, seriously? My only concern is that his son can speak properly when I’m done with him.”
“Well, if I were you, I’d see what I could teach the father to do.” She wagged her brows.
“You’re horrible.” I wasn’t going to give that much of a response, but Della wasn’t done with the subject.
“You can’t deny he’s interested in you.”
“I’m not denying anything. I can tell, okay? And yes, he’s quite the looker. Marrying Clay didn’t blind me to the desires of other men. It just limited me from acting on it.”
“Well, nothing is holding you back now.”
“Other than a soon-to-be-ex-husband who refuses to sign the divorce papers? No, I guess there’s not. But could you imagine what Clay would do to him?” Clay would wipe the floor with his pretty face.
Della looked as if she were giving that some thought. “Yeah, his son wouldn’t be the only one with a speech impediment.” She hit the nail on the head.
“Clay’s temper is no good when it comes to other men hitting on me, and besides, I’m not going to do anything for him to challenge the judge’s decision. Until those papers are signed, I’m a married woman. And I’m going to act like it.”
“Well, it seems a big waste to me. You’ve already signed them. What if that man is the one, and Clay makes you miss him?”
“If he’s the one, then he’ll still be around when I’m free, but I hate to break it to you—I’m not interested in him.”
“Come on. What’s not to be interested in? He’s a hunk. And you like kids.”
“Della, stop. If you like him so much, you date him. He’s not my type.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes.
“How was my boy?” I put away Taylor’s progress chart.
“He’s so good. And like incredibly quiet compared to the other babies at the park. Have you ever noticed it?”
I glanced up to see that she was a bit concerned. I had noticed there was something a little off about my son, but having someone else point it out made me nervous.
“He’s a good baby,” I said with a shrug.
“Yeah, but I just thought I should mention it.”
I had noticed how Jack didn’t cry as much as other babies, but it was other things that had me wondering. “Thanks. I’ve noticed a few th
ings actually.”
“Like?”
“Well, do you ever notice how I can walk into a room and he doesn’t look around for me? It’s like I have to get close or in his line of sight for him to even notice I’m there.”
“Do you think there’s something wrong?” Della put her hand on his head and cradled it to her cheek.
I walked them out into the hallway and shut off the lights to my office. “I don’t know. Maybe with everything going on, I’m just a little overprotective and paranoid. I mean, if there was something wrong, you’d think they would’ve figured it out by now, right? He’s eight months old.”
Della passed him to me after I locked my office. “Do you think it’s his hearing? Have you said anything to the doctor?”
“Yes, I do. And no, I haven’t asked him anything specifically. I ask if things are okay, but he seems to think so. And Jack responds to him, follows his hand when he checks his vision, and I guess I just assumed if there was a problem with his reactions, the doctor would tell me.”
“Maybe it’s nothing,” she said, following me out of the resource building. “What do I know about babies?”
“It’s a valid point, and I’ll ask just to be sure. I take him in for his nine-month appointment soon.”
“Well, I think it’s worth mentioning.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you said something. I thought I was just finding something else to worry about. At least I know I’m not crazy.”
“No, you have every right to worry about him, and don’t ever be afraid to talk to me. I won’t think you’re crazy.”
“Thanks.” We got to the car and stopped while I fished out my keys from my sweater pocket.
“Speaking of crazy, have you asked Clay about it?”
“No. As I said, I thought I was just acting paranoid, and if I had said anything to Clay, he wouldn’t have cared.”
Della gave me a tentative smile. “You know he’d care. He loves you guys. I just don’t want him to be upset with you for not mentioning it. Is he going to the appointment?”
I had to laugh at that one. “Has he ever? I don’t think this new judgment is going to change him any. Clay couldn’t even show up to save himself from losing Jack, and I doubt he’d wake up for a morning appointment with a pediatrician.”
“He may surprise you.”
I opened the back seat and strapped Jack into the car seat. “Or he might disappoint me again. No thanks to either. His surprises are not that great. The best thing he’s ever given me is Jack, and I intend to focus on my son and to raise him the best way I know how.” I straightened up and shut the back door, knowing my son was safe.
Della leaned against the car. “What if there is something wrong? You can’t keep it from him.”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, but I don’t think that’s the case.” Fear bloomed in me as it began to sink in. How was I going to go through any of this alone?
Then a little voice reminded me I already was.
I hugged and thanked Della, then vowed to call her later as I got in the car. She had been so good to me about helping out. I felt I owed her the world. I shut the door and turned my rearview mirror so I could see in the back seat.
“Jack!” I said loudly. But he didn’t budge. He didn’t laugh or respond in any way. “Jack!” I said a little louder, causing him to giggle. The mirrored toy on his car seat revealed his reaction and gave me a little peace of mind.
Chapter 5
Clay
The day hadn’t gotten any better with no word from Beth. I had hoped that she’d call and want to talk, maybe tell me what I missed and where to go from there, or maybe I could sweet-talk her into letting me come over and see them.
But she hadn’t made a move.
I went to the bathroom sink and splashed cold water on my face. “You’ve really done it now, asshole.” I glanced up to see my reflection. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. You’re a great big asshole. You should have gotten there in time.”
I reached for a hand towel and dried my face. Then I brushed my teeth and thought about how much I missed her.
By the time I spat and rinsed, I knew I had to be the one to make an effort. Waiting on her was a mistake, and I had to be the one to take the initiative to get it right.
I went to the bed and sat on the edge, taking my phone off of the bedside table. When I dialed, I knew there was no going back until I talked to her if she answered, which she did.
“Hello?” Her tone was harsh.
“Hey, Beth. I need to talk to you.” I tried not to sound like I was in as much pain as I was, but I didn’t think being cocky would help anything either.
“About what?” she asked, sounding as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
“About what happened with the custody case.” She was just fucking with me now. She knew damned well why I wanted to talk.
“Oh, you mean when you overslept and threw your life away?” Her anger didn’t represent the girl I loved and married, and I hated how I’d brought out that side of her.
“Look, I know you’re pissed off, Beth, but I don’t know what to do.”
“Take care of yourself. It’s what you’re best at. I’ll worry about the rest. So basically, nothing has changed.”
“That’s not what I mean. I want to see my son, Beth. And I want to see you too. I miss you. Both of you.” I needed her to understand it wasn’t just about Jack and me.
“Look, you’re going to have to let me go, Clay. It’s over with us. But if you want to see Jack, I won’t keep him from you, but it’s going to be on my terms until you can straighten up. I want those papers signed, and you’re only making things worse by not complying.”
“I’m sorry, babe. I know I fucked up. I’ve been kicking myself all day. I just don’t know what happened. I set the alarm, and it just didn’t go off. It’s probably this phone acting up again.” I needed her to not be so upset with me, and once I started making excuses, I just couldn’t stop.
“Nice try, but don’t blame the phone, Clay. It’s you. You have nothing and no one to blame but yourself.”
“At least tell me what happened?”
“We all sat like fools waiting and hoping you’d come with the faith that nothing would make you forget something so important, but you still didn’t show up.”
“You should have called me.” I knew it was a lame excuse when I said it, but I was still beating myself up about it.
“It’s not my responsibility to call you from court, Clay. Listen to yourself. I’m sick of being your mother. It’s time to grow up if you want to see your son.”
I had never compared her to my mother, and I resented her bringing my mom into it. She was just throwing her weight around, and I didn’t like the mean side of her. “You can’t keep him from me. I’m going to see him. Whenever I fucking want.”
“Don’t make things hard, and don’t threaten me, Clay.” Her tone had gotten eerie, like a lioness protecting her cub. “I’ll take out a restraining order if I have to.”
That put my brakes on and told me she wasn’t messing around. “I’m not trying to fight you, but it’s a fact. He’s my boy, and I want to see him. I miss him. I love him. Beth, come on. It’s not too late for us to be family.”
“Yes, it is.” There was a finality in her tone. “I don’t want that anymore.”
Every word of defiance was like a knife stabbing me. “We love each other. We have Jack and a future. I’ll do better. I just want to be a family again.”
“You’re a child, Clay. I can’t handle it anymore. You don’t help me. You don’t do your part for Jack. Hell, when was the last time you even asked about him? He’s fine, by the way. In case you actually, somewhere deep down, give a shit.” Her voice broke, and I could tell she was having a hard time convincing herself.
“Babe, please.” I just wanted to see her. If I could see her, then I could convince her.
“Don’t, with the babe shit. I’m not your babe anymore. You
need to worry about your baby.” She hung up the phone. But I couldn’t take the hint.
I texted her immediately. Beth, I just wanted to see him tomorrow.
She didn’t respond. So I sent another one. You said I had to call to see him.
Nothing. No response. Her silence was killing me. “Babe, come on.” I sent another one. I’ll keep him, and you take a day off.
I didn’t think she’d be willing to go for that, and I was right. She wasn’t going to answer me. She really was done, and not just with the call, but with me as well.
“Fuck!” I yelled at the phone and threw it against the wall, where it hit and landed on the carpet. I rested my head in my hands and wept.
I had to get out of there. I couldn’t let it get me down. I couldn’t let it destroy me and kill my spirit. She wasn’t going to be able to keep my son from me for long. I’d let her show her ass for a time, but eventually, she was going to have to let me see him.
I got up and went to shower, and when I was done, I found the basket of laundry I’d washed and dried earlier, including my favorite shirt and a loose pair of jeans. I dressed and smoothed down the wrinkles the best I could. Where I was going, I didn’t have to be dressed any sort of way.
I left the hotel and went downstairs, hoping to find a new direction and praying it would lead me to Jack.
Instead, I found myself at LeRoy’s, which was now open for business. When I walked into the smoky room, LeRoy was at the piano playing a Fat’s Domino classic, I Want to Walk you Home, commanding everyone’s attention, including my own.
I went to the bar, ordered a drink, and turned around in my chair as he finished up and changed the mood with a different sound. “I’ve got one more request,” he said, “and then this old man is taking a break.”
He led into Bad to the Bone, and his crowd wailed for him. It was a much different atmosphere than the lounges and hotels I was used to playing for. The smokey room was decorated with Christmas lights, and the tables and chairs were left over from the nineteen seventies, back when things were still made to last and not necessarily all that pretty. The crowd didn’t care. They were having a good time and appreciating the music and the company.
