An Underestimated Christmas (Underestimated 3) (6 page)

I finally carried him to the potty, removed the turtle underpants, and told him he had to sit there until he went potty. I cried right outside the door while he cried “mommy” over and over for twenty minutes straight. My hand went to the doorknob a thousand times, wanting to make it stop. My willpower was stronger than I thought, and when I heard the silence, I prayed that he went.

“Mommy! I did it. I go pee!” he called. I don’t think Nicholas was as excited about anything as he was about his accomplishment. I made huge deal out of it, wanting to encourage him as much as possible. That didn’t mean there was anything wrong, did it? A lot of kids are later than others in certain things. Just because Tad was potty trained before two didn’t mean Nicholas wasn’t the same.

Nicholas hated anything to do with loud noises, too. Was that normal? Tad didn’t mind it. Drew had to take him to the car once when we went to watch fireworks back at the beach house. We either didn’t go, left Nicholas at home, or watched them on television. Tad loved it when I blasted the stereo in the car, singing to the top of my lungs to some Katy Perry or Pink song. Nicholas held his ears and cried. I hadn’t done that since Tad was like one.

Wondering of the reaction I would get now, I turned the radio on. “Cool song!” I playfully announced, cranking the radio to Lorde. I paid special attention to Nicholas’s reaction compared to Tad’s. Tad kicked his legs and wiggled like he was dancing. He was excited, but Nicholas held his ears. He didn’t cry. He looked like he was in immense pain. I shut it off.

“I don’t like that,” Nicholas informed me.

“Me do. Me do, Mommy,” Tad giggled from his seat.

“Why don’t you like it, bud?” I asked.

“It doesn’t feel good in my ears.”

“What does it feel like?” I questioned.

“Um, like a dynamite. Like blowing up the James Town Bridge,” he explained. That was a smart answer. He knew enough to compare how his ears felt like the dynamite that brought the bridge down. Maybe I just needed to take him to his regular doctor. We did have to call his name over and over to get his attention. This was probably nothing more than he was having trouble hearing or something. I was going to call his doctor once I laid them down for their naps. Right after I took something for this nightmare of a headache that was gaining strength as the minutes passed.

Nicholas laid right down for his nap. He always did. I never had to fight with him. Tad, on the other hand, got out of his bed four times before finally giving in to his three-year-old exhaustion.

Rubbing the bridge of my nose and then my temples, I tried to massage the pain away while my thumb swiped my phone in search of Dr. Playl.

“Yes, I need to make an appointment for my son,” I explained. After giving her the normal name, age, and date of birth, I explained to her what I was concerned about. Just the hearing part of it. I didn’t want to relate everything I was concerned about to a receptionist just there to set appointments.

She got him in for Friday. That would make Drew happy. I would have to cancel my Friday luncheon at Marbet’s. I closed my eyes after ignoring a call from Alicia. I would call her back, I promised myself, willing the pain in my forehead to disappear.

I didn’t argue too much about the appointment with Dr. Playl. Morgan was right about him not hearing you when you called his name. I wasn’t really concerned, though. I thought he was using his selective hearing, the way his dad did. There were lots of things I didn’t hear, especially if I was tuned into something else. But, if it made Morgan feel better, I was fine with it. She could take him to ease her mind. I was one hundred percent sure that my son was fine. He was too smart not to be.

“Drew, you don’t have to meet me. I can take him myself. They’re probably just going to do a hearing test or something,” Morgan explained, trying to get away from me in bed.

“Where you going? I want to go. I’ll meet you there at eleven thirty.”

“I’m going to make coffee, and you’re going to work,” Morgan argued, trying to get away from me. I wasn’t letting her up yet. “Drew, we don’t have time,” she added when I moved my hand between her legs. Victory was mine when she opened her legs for me. She could argue all she wanted, but I knew once I started rubbing her pussy, she was putty in my hands.

I knew I was treading on borrowed time. Tad would give me the few extra minutes I needed to please my wife and then myself. Nicholas wouldn’t. He would be at the door any second now.

“Just put it in me before Nicky comes,” Morgan coaxed, having the same trepidations that I did. I didn’t have a problem with that. I was more than ready to stick it in. My cock easily slid in her warm, wet pussy and I instantly moaned, feeling every inch of her. I didn’t care that she turned her head. I didn’t care about her morning breath. I turned it back and shoved my tongue between her lips. She responded, letting her tongue dance with mine while her hips met the thrust of my cock. I loved morning sex. Holy shit. I loved morning sex. I held her hands to each side of her head and stared down at her lustful expressions while my rod slid in and out.

“Fuck, Drew,” Morgan called. Shit. I hated when she did that. I wasn’t ready for it to be over with. Her hands tightening around mine, and the contractions tightening around my dick in quick quivers caused me to thrust in and spew with her.

“I love you,” I told her one second before Nicholas was at the door, calling for his mom. I looked down and slid in and out of her a couple more times.

“I love you, too, but you don’t have to leave work for this appointment. It’s not like he’s sick or anything.”

“I’m the boss. I promise I won’t get fired.”

“Fine. Get off me before Nicholas has a meltdown.”

“He’s fine, stop worrying about him,” I assured her, pulling her to her feet and planting one more kiss on her soft lips before opening the door to Nicky. I screamed and grabbed him, trying to be funny. He didn’t find it as funny. He was almost in tears. I lifted him to my shoulders and ducked, keeping him from hitting his head.

My day always went better when I started it inside my wife. Morgan was clingy, hanging on to me, kissing me, and rubbing her half-naked body against mine. I loved her like this. I held on to her, embracing the time. Times like these made it all worth it. I just wished they never ended. I wished real life would go away and I could keep us right here in the now. Unfortunately, that couldn’t happen. I had to get going. The meeting with a new dealer was too important to put on hold.

I said goodbye to my family, lifting a sleepy Tad up for a kiss. I relished the morning snuggles I got from him. That was the only time Tadpole was still enough to be cuddly. Morgan took him from me and kissed me again.

I had another one of those days. Luck was falling in my lap—my wife was happy and I couldn’t wait to see her. I loved when we were like this, and I loved when she canceled her play date with our slutty neighbor.

Morgan was waiting for me in the parking lot. I pulled right beside her and got the boys out of the car. She wasn’t as happy as when I left her, but she kissed me, and let me hold her hand while we walked. I didn’t ask what mishap soured her mood, deciding it was best just to move on.

Tad played, building a tower with a little boy Nicky’s age. The kid tried to get Nicky to play, but he looked away, ignoring the kid all together.

“My name is Charlie. Do you want to build a bridge with me?”

Nicholas looked like he was going to answer the kid, and then looked away, breaking eye contact. The kid bounced away and played with Tad instead.

“What?” I asked, looking to Morgan, who was staring at Nicholas.

“Nothing,” she replied, shaking her head.

Tad started to throw a tantrum when Nicholas’s name was called. He was building a tower first. I had to pick him up and whisper in his ear that people were watching him to get him to come quietly. He settled down once we entered the little examining room. I really don’t recall the exact steps things happened from there.

One minute, I was holding Nicholas on my lap, trying to find the hidden objects on the back of a
Highlights
magazine, and then next, I was looking to Morgan with a warning. I wanted her to shut her mouth and stop answering questions. Questions that I didn’t like. I felt like Morgan did nothing but gang up on Nicholas the whole time. She didn’t look concerned at all. She looked like someone having a normal conversation. This wasn’t a normal conversation. Far from it.

“Shouldn’t we be checking his hearing?” I interrupted. Morgan looked at me like I had just said the most ridiculous thing I could have thought of.

“Drew?” Morgan questioned.

“What? We made an appointment to have his hearing checked. I want his hearing checked,” I said, hearing the shake in my own voice.

“Drew, does Nicholas have any unusual fears?” Dr. Playl asked me rather than Morgan.

“No,” I lied, feeling the air slowly leave my lungs.

“He’s afraid to sleep anywhere but his own bed,” Morgan answered for me. That wasn’t even what I was thinking. I was thinking about his blanket. He was convinced that his blanket would die without him. He had to take care of it. It was cute to me when he argued about it every time we tried to take it, now I questioned what it truly meant. He always told me with so much conviction, like being right at the point of an emotional breakdown. And then there was the fear that I wouldn’t come home.

I’m not sure what that was about. I used to think it was the move to California, and my sudden absence during the day, but listening to the questions Dr. Playl was asking, caused me to wonder. Was that normal? Did all kids have a fear of their dad not coming home?

“Is he very interested in certain things, but excludes other things, Drew?” she asked me again. I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at Morgan’s glassy eyes.

“Bridges,” I mumbled.

“Is he able to follow a string of instructions?”

“Does anyone in your family have a history of mental disorders?”

“Does he often ignore people who are talking to him?”

“Does he often repeat himself?”

I don’t remember the answers to the questions. I let Morgan do the talking until Dr. Playl said the words,
Asperger’s Syndrome
. I didn’t want them to make sense. I’m not sure what I was thinking, or what I was doing. I just knew I had heard enough. My son didn’t need to see a developmental pediatrician.

“Let’s go, Morgan,” I ordered, taking Nicholas from the paper covered table. Grabbing Tad’s hand, I ordered Morgan with my eyes.

“I’ll call to get the details,” Morgan said, betraying her own flesh and blood. That was the first time in years I had gotten angry enough to want to harm Morgan physically. This was all her fault. Had she not insisted we bring him here, he would still be the same Nicky he’d always been.

I walked out in front Morgan and buckled Nicholas in his seat, and then Tad, ignoring the looks Morgan was giving me. She didn’t speak one word. She just looked at me with a look that calmed my anger. My boiling blood cooled with the ice in her eyes. She was scared to death for our son and I was mad at her. I couldn’t face that. I couldn’t accept anything Dr. Fucking Playl said. What the hell did she know anyway? You can’t diagnose anything by asking a series of stupid fucking questions.

“I’ll see you later,” I said coolly.

“Drew?”

I didn’t stop. I blocked out the desperation in her voice and got in my own car. Not once did I look back. I left her standing there, scared and alone. Driving back downtown was a fog. I knew traffic was crazy and I was barely moving, but it was a blur. I didn’t really think anything. Nothing was on my mind. I went blank, totally blank.

My afternoon consisted of avoiding the internet. Asperger’s was magically placed in my search bar numerous times. Research was what I always did. I didn’t believe anything anyone said without my own education of the matter. I didn’t want to be educated on Asperger’s. I didn’t want to know anything about it. I had no reason to learn about it. Nicholas didn’t have that.

I blocked it out instead, working until five o’clock. I routinely drove home at the same time I did every day, high fived my boys at the door, and kissed my wife. Determined to make things better, I showered and joined my family for supper.

Morgan made chicken strips and macaroni and cheese. I was sure Nicky picked supper. Morgan and I avoided conversation, or at least I did. It was easier to listen to Nicholas tell me about the number of covered bridges in Pennsylvania—again. Tad jabbered something about something I could only agree with. I had no idea what he was saying.

“Squidward,” Morgan helped.

“Excuse me?”

“Squidward from SpongeBob. He’s trying to tell you Squidward fell and broke his tentacles.”

“That’s exactly what I thought he said,” I teased, looking across the table to Morgan. She didn’t smile. She was sad, lost, and hurting.

Everything would be fine. I told myself over and over to keep doing what we’ve always done. That’s what I did. I pretended nothing was wrong. Everything was fine. I even made love to Morgan before she rolled away from me and faced the window. Neither of us talked. I didn’t kiss her lips or her neck. I held her close and fucked her slowly, prolonging the intimacy as long as I could.

Not knowing what to say without bringing it up, I held her close to my chest, trying to tell her everything was okay without saying it. I knew I needed to talk to her, share her fears, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t about to accept any nonsense about my kid. Instead, I held her in my arms and tried to ignore the fact that she was crying. I let her cry without a word until she finally cried herself to sleep.

Breakfast was much of the same. Morgan made oatmeal and I ate with Nicky, changing the subject to something else when he wanted to talk about bridges. Tadpole was being a sleepyhead and I didn’t get to see him. I kissed Morgan and told her I loved her the way I always did.

The days Morgan and I avoided the conversation about our son turned into weeks. We both watched Nicholas a little closer, and I was doing my best to teach him why it wasn’t okay for him to get his way all the time. I noticed for the first time Nicholas couldn’t look at me. I always thought he did that to be a brat, just to push my buttons, but keeping his eyes on mine were impossible. He couldn’t do it, and I didn’t understand why.

“You haven’t been out with your friends in a while,” I stated to Morgan one evening in bed. We’d just laid down and turned the television to the news.

Morgan continued to put whatever that white stuff was on her face. She looked at herself through the mirror and not me like she normally did. She always talked to me through the mirror while she put on her night face.

“Yeah, Chelsea and I don’t really talk anymore,” she replied, avoiding eye contact with me.

“Why?” I asked, surprised and raising up a bit. Something had to have happened between them for them to just stop talking like that.

Morgan shrugged one shoulder and commenced brushing her hair. “I told her about Nicholas.”

“What about him?” I asked, swinging my legs over the bed to sit in a straighter stance, facing her.

“About what the doctor said. I thought I could talk to her about it, about my concerns.”

Although I was instantly pissed at her for running her mouth about our business to the neighbor bitch, I bit my tongue and played along. I knew what she was doing. This was her way to get me to talk about it, open up. Fuck that. She had no business talking to other people about our life. “So why aren’t you talking to her?”