by Shyla Colt
Even I can sense the strained atmosphere.
“How about we go over the rules?” Duncan tries to redirect the conversation.
“I already know them,” Flynn and I respond at the same time.
“Okay. Then we’ll pick our people,” Rose says.
“I want Spock,” Flynn and I chorus again.
I narrow my gaze and focus on the man directly across from me. He grimaces. I bounce my leg. This isn’t the impression I wanted to make.
“I can choose another piece. You are the host.” The words cost me. I always play with Spock. I don’t like the change, but I know this is a polite response. The pieces are handed out, and Duncan begins to set up the board.
“So, what do you do, Sam?” Rose asks.
“I’m a freelance analyst.”
“What is that exactly?” Rose asks.
I pause. “I follow trends, make educated guesses, and overhaul for big companies looking to increase their productivity, gross income, et cetera. It allows me to work remotely, which I like.”
“Wow. Sounds like a lot of number crunching,” Duncan sounds impressed.
“I like numbers. They always stay the same.”
“Huh,” Rose nods. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“Now you’re speaking my language,” Duncan smiles. “I’m an accountant.”
“Ahhh.” I nod. “Once you learn the language, it’s easy.”
Duncan laughs. “Many would not agree with that.”
“Which is why you two get paid handsomely.” Rose gestures from Duncan to me with her finger.
Rose and Duncan seem nice. I think I could grow comfortable around them over time. Flynn is another story. He does his best to capture Delta’s attention whenever he can. After a full round of the game, I’m on the edge of what I can tolerate. I slip my phone from my pocket.
Sam: I’m ready to leave soon.
Delta: I’ll make it happen. Can you give me ten minutes?
Sam: Yes.
“Okay, guys. This has been fun, but I have a full day ahead of me tomorrow, and we have a shopping trip to go on, too, Rose,” Delta says.
Flynn scowls. “We never stop after one round.”
“Today we do,” Delta replies softly.
He blinks rapidly, and it clicks. He’s like me.
“You’re on the spectrum,” I say the words out loud without meaning to.
“Yes,” Flynn agrees.
“So am I.”
Rose squeaks.
“Oh.” Flynn tilts his head. “You’re overwhelmed right now.”
“Yes.” The admission fills me with relief.
“Can we keep playing once he leaves?” Flynn asks.
“Y-Yes?” Rose glances from Duncan to Delta.
“That’d be fine, Flynn.”
Flynn drums his fingers on the table. “O-Okay.”
“I’m going to use the washroom.” I stand and make my way to the bathroom Delta pointed out earlier.
“Before you see your beau out, can you help me in the kitchen?” Rose asks.
After taking care of things and washing my hands, I enter the hall and catch a whispered conversation. Recognizing Delta’s voice, I slow to listen.
“You can’t replace one with the other.”
“I’m not trying to, Rose. No two Aspies are the same. They’re affected in different ways, and I met Sam completely out of the blue.”
“And he’s the one you choose to date after spending all that time single?”
“Yes. One. Hello! Look at him. He’s stunning, and we have the same interests. He makes me happy. Isn’t that enough of a reason?”
“I don’t want to see you or him hurt,” Rose sounds worried.
“Neither do I. I’m with Sam because I’m attracted to him from the inside out. We fit well together, and if you can’t see that, it’s your problem.”
“Wow. That’s harsh, Del,” Rose says.
“I don’t want to fight with you, Rose, but I’m not conceding this point. No relationship comes with a guarantee. We both know that. But he likes me too, and we’re figuring things out, the way all new couples do.”
I continue to the table, done listening. Delta defended me without a hint of shame or embarrassment. It was a reassurance I didn’t know I needed. The reason she seems to get me is that she dated someone else with Asperger’s. The pieces of the puzzle lock in together, silencing the doubts my mother had raised with her words. Delta, more than most, knows what she’s in for. I sit down, and the girls reappear not long after.
“Are you ready?” Delta asks.
“Yes.”
“We’ll see you soon, I’m sure,” Duncan resets the board game.
“More than likely.”
“It was nice meeting you, Sam. I hope you’ll come back.” Rose rubs her belly, and I nod.
I don’t know what to think about her. Her words were harsh, and I don’t like anyone upsetting Delta. Her eyes don’t hold their usual sparkle. Her smile is fake.
“Sam.” Flynn’s voice is flat.
“Flynn,” I reply. We might’ve been good friends in a different situation, but I can see now Delta used to be his person. We’re going to have a problem if he can’t accept that things have changed.
“ARE YOU STILL BRINGING your friend to the New Year’s party?” Mom peers at me from over the rim of her mimosa. It’s a monthly thing that we get together for brunch. It’s good publicity and forces my father and me to interact regularly. My mother calls it killing two birds with one stone. Though I could never figure out why anyone would want to do something so barbaric.
I look up from my waffle. “Yes, I told you I was.”
“What your mother is trying to ask you unsuccessfully is how things are going with your lady.”
“Her name is Delta. It’s going really well.” I chew my waffle and swallow before I decide to share. “I went over to her house for game night with her family.”
“You did?” Mother asks. Her eyes widen.
Dad chuckles. “Nicely done, son. Did you have fun?”
“No. I was too nervous. I think I could in the future, though. Delta’s friends were nice. We had snacks and played a Star Trek tabletop game.” I shrug.
“Sounds like this young lady is made for you.”
Mom sniffs.
“Kath.” Dad’s voice holds a warning I don’t understand.
Are they fighting again? It’s not unusual, but they tend to keep the barb flying to a minimum when we’re in public.
“What does Delta do, Sammy?” Mom asks.
“She’s a social worker.”
“The more I learn about her, the more I like her already. It takes an exceptional person to be in public service like that. I’m sure she’s seen a lot of upsetting things.”
“It is true. I’ve seen her after a really bad day. I asked her why she continued to do it when it upset her so much, and she told me she’d rather know they had at least one person in their corner who cared. That seeing the placements that went well, and stopping the abusive situations she came across made it all worthwhile.”
Dad whistles. “Sounds like a winner.”
“Please, we haven’t even met her yet, Harrison.” Mom chews on her scrambled egg whites. I can sense she wants to say more. “Sam, I’m glad you found someone you get along with, but I want you to be careful. You’re still strangers, and it takes time to know a person’s true intentions.”
“We met one weekend and married less than six months later. Time isn’t everything, Kath.”
It’s a strange shift when Dad is backing me up while Mom nitpicks. My stomach lurches, and I push my omelet around on the pristine white plate.
“I know. But, Sam, you know you don’t always read people well, and none of us want a replay of what happened with Allison.”
Dad waves his fork at Mom. “Allison never cared about anyone else but herself. Delta has her beat already.”
“I’m trying to keep him from getting hu
rt, Harrison,” Mom scoffs.
“Him or your campaign?”
Mom scowls. “That’s not fair.”
“No, but it’s true. How ’bout you put Sam first?”
“You have some nerve.” She stabs at the eggs.
My chest tightens. I hate it when they fight. I always have. I used to hide in my closet and rock in the dark when it got terrible at home. It was one of the reasons they discovered my condition. It turned violent, and I bashed my head against the wall until it bled, trying to flee the overstimulation caused by the chaos.
“You’ve never tried to understand him. You left it all to me to figure out. Now you’re suddenly Mr. Dad? Please.”
“Might want to ease up on those mimosas, princess. Your nasty side is oozing out.”
She clamps her mouth shut.
Dad turns his attention to me and places his hand on my wrist, gripping it firmly. I meet his gaze.
“Listen to me, son. If you found someone you can be yourself around, don’t let anyone dissuade you. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you like this about anyone. I’m excited for you. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I screwed up when you were younger. I was gone a lot, and I didn’t understand what Asperger’s meant. It’s not an excuse. I should’ve done better. I can’t change the past, but I am here now. I support you in whatever choices you make.”
I can’t fully process everything he’s said. This is more than I’ve gotten from him in years.
“You don’t have to say anything back. I just wanted you to know.”
“Okay.”
“I thought maybe we could fly later on today. I’ve got some airtime slotted out and the plane ready to go.”
“We haven’t flown together for a long time.”
“I know. I’d like to change it.” His recent retirement seems to be changing him for the better.
“I don’t have any plans.”
“Good. Should we meet up at three o’clock?” Dad asks.
“That works for me.”
“Go and escape into the clouds like you always do.”
“Kath. Enough.” My father’s voice deepens, and I flinch.
“Is everything okay?”
Dad waves me off. “We’re adjusting to seeing each other daily. Nothing to worry about.”
“He’s right. It’s growing pains all of us aging people go through.” Mom puts on a fake smile. “You know I love you, Sammy. I might come off as overbearing, but I worry about your emotional well-being. You’re my only child.”
“I know, Mom.” I also know I wasn’t what they bargained for and that my diagnosis ended all talk of having another child. I wasn’t a difficult child to raise, in the same sense that I’m not an easy child to parent as an adult. My mother tried her best. Between the lack of information about my condition at the time and her busy schedule, I was raised by a troop of nannies who shuttled me to therapy and doctors. Our bond is tentative, and she tries too hard now to make up for it. Dad was absent, using his job to disappear from anything he found too unpleasant.
This is why the boundaries I have set up between us are so important. I feel my anxiety rising.
“I’m going to head home and recharge before we fly, Dad.”
“You didn’t even finish your food,” Mom says. Her shoulder slumps.
I can read her after all this time. She’s disappointed.
“I’m full. Their portions are big.” Giving her a kiss on the cheek, I make my escape.
They have to work out their issues on their own. It is not my job to act as a buffer. I repeat the words like a mantra as I leave the restaurant. It’s okay to have space and happiness away from them despite conflicting beliefs.
Chapter Five
Delta
I spent more money on this dress than I’ve ever spent on an article of clothing in my life. The V-neck, black-sequined gown shows off a hint of cleavage, tucks in at the waist, and flows to the floor after accentuating my hips. Black stilettos give me a boost in height that brings me to Sam’s shoulders. I had my make-up and hair professionally done in a salon. Soft curls flow around my face and shoulders.
Yet, I still feel inadequate. As if the people inside are going to take one look at me and know my life story. What the hell is a foster kid with a past doing outside of this historic, stone mansion?
“This is where you grew up?” I whisper.
“Yes.”
“Sam. Who are your parents?”
The door opens, and my eyes bulge as the petite Senator Kathleen Thompson-Solaris greets us in an exquisite red dress with black sequin details. She’s the picture of the holidays with her flawless makeup and gray-streaked, dark hair twisted into an elegant topknot.
“S-Senator,” I stutter.
“Hi, Mom,” Sam says.
I look back and forth, battling vertigo. How could he not tell me? I should see myself out right now before I make a fool of myself.
“Please, call me Kathleen,” she purrs. “Samuel, did you not tell her who you were?”
“You’re the senator, not me?” He shrugs as we step inside.
Sen— Kathleen clucks her tongue. “Men.”
I nod dumbly, allowing him to help me out of my coat. A dashing man with hair more pepper than salt and an impressive height sweeps up behind her. “Glad you could make it, kid.”
“Hi, Dad. This is—”
“Delta! I’m so happy we get to finally meet you. I’m Harrison.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I say, shaking his hand.
His eyes crinkle in the corners. I see Sam when he’s older. “No need to be so formal. Harrison is just fine.”
“O-Okay.” It’s like I’ve been swept into a different world. Wealthy drips from every stone and exquisite decoration. The furniture is large and solid in the way only the most expensive pieces are. There’s more money in this foyer than I have in my bank account. Suddenly, I’m queasy.
“Why don’t you take your date into the kitchen and grab her a drink?” his mother suggests.
Sam offers me his arm. I take it, glad to be away from the laser-focused stare his mother has fixed me with.
“Why didn’t you warn me?”
“About what?” he asks.
“That your mother is the freaking senator of this state.”
“Does it really matter that much?” The confusion etched on his face is genuine.
I struggle with my anger. “Yes,” I hiss. “I wasn’t prepared for that.”
“I’m sorry. I did not realize—”
“I know. I-I’m just having a mini panic attack. I am way out of my depth, Sam. I don’t know how to mingle with people like this.”
“And you think I do?”
“Yes. This is your birthright.”
“I may have been born into it, but I was never meant for it. No one is as confusing as a person who works in politics.” There’s a lot of sadness in those words.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I squeeze his hand.
There’s a bartender set up in the spacious kitchen and caterers lined up behind the island, ready to serve.
“Maybe a glass of champagne.” To help me stop freaking out. I study the people milling in and out as he orders. The dresses are breathtaking, and I recognize some of the faces. I’m not starstruck. I’m horrified. I’m in a room full of people who profoundly affect the change in our city and state. What would it have been like growing up among them? I knew he came from money, but this? He never would’ve wanted for anything. What his family must think of me, a social worker who only just cracks the poverty level each year. No wonder his mother stared me down. She wanted better for her son.
“Here you are.”
I force a smile. “Thank you.”
“Would you like to walk around? She usually has ice sculptures. I like to see them when they’re still pristine.”
Ice sculptures! “Of course, lead the way.”
He wrap
s an arm around my waist and grips my hip, pressing me against him. This time, I am the one who relishes the extra contact. The ice sculpture is incredible with its detailed clock and bold lettering. A DJ plays music while people mingle, and others move toward the dance floor. It’s a small, intimate affair. Exclusive. I smile and shake hands as people stop Sam to ask him how he’s been. I can see his energy lag like a batter being overtaxed. I tug on his jacket sleeve, and he peers down. Bending, he presses his ears to my lip. I shiver involuntarily.
“Why don’t you take a minute to recharge?”
“Is it that obvious?” he whispers back.
“Only to those who really know you.”
“Will you be okay?”
I nod. “I’ll stalk the snacks.” I wiggle my eyebrows. His lips curve up at the corners, and my heart squeezes. He’s a sweet cinnamon roll I want to devour ... literally.
“Alright. I’ll slip into my room for a bit.” He squeezes my hand. “Thank you.”
“I will always have your back, babe.”
“You’ve never called me that before.”
“Do you like it?” Butterflies tickle the inside of my belly.
“I do.”
Spinning on my heel, I lose myself in the crowd, enjoying the holiday music and top-forty hits as I skim off the serving trays. Who doesn’t love a bacon-wrapped date? I enjoy the snowy landscape and the peacefulness, creeping my way onto the balcony warmed by heating elements. It’s quiet here in the corner I’ve found. I could use a bit of revitalizing. Closing my eyes, I savor the flavor of my cream puff.
“I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk.”
I turn mid-chew and swallow with a gulp. I cover my mouth, hoping there aren’t any lingering crumbs or cream. I clear my throat. “Me?” Is that my voice so high and shaky?
“Yes. The woman who caught my son’s attention.” She glances around. “Where is he? He hasn’t left your side all evening.”
“He went to recharge in his room. I told him I’d hold down the fort solo for a bit.”
“How thoughtful.” Her lips curve up into a cold smile.
My stomach drops to the floor.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed Sam is different. He seems to think you can handle that. Me, I’m not so sure.”
