“I did,” I offered. Drew knew nothing about it. Drew wanted to live in Denial Land and grow diamonds. He wasn’t willing to listen to everything I’d learned.
“And where did you score?”
“Seventeen.”
“Eleven to twenty-one is the average score. Twenty-two to twenty-five specifies that one has somewhat greater than average traits. Twenty-six to thirty-one is a borderline score. Eighty-six percent of the people within this category can be correctly classified as having Asperger’s Syndrome. Thirty-two is the official criteria for having Asperger’s,” Dr. Inglewood explained.
“What’s Nicky’s number?” Drew asked with his hand on Nicky’s leg. It was his way of letting Nicky know he was right there with him on the noisy paper bed.
Looking at me, Dr. Inglewood stated more than asked, “You know.”
I nodded my head and shifted Tadpole to the chair beside me. “Thirty-one,” I quietly said in a swallow.
Drew dropped to the round padded stool. He should have talked to me. He wouldn’t be coming in blind had he just been open about it. His reaction wasn’t so much as a surprise. It was more like a defeated battle, as if it was at that exact moment that he lost.
I knew we would have to rehash everything the doctor said later that day. Neither of us registered anything that she was doing. She asked Nicholas a few questions, taking notes while she did. She had him to do a few small tasks, some he breezed right through and some he couldn’t. I willed Drew to sit beside me, moving my eyes to the seat next to me. He moved to the empty chair, took Tadpole from my lap, and then placed my hand in his.
It thrilled me that Dr. Inglewood was so good with him. Nicholas was sometimes funny about strangers. Females seemed to be better than males, but Tadpole was the same way. It took him a few minutes to warm up to people, too. He normally did, though. If Nicholas had it in his mind that he wasn’t talking to someone, he didn’t. Tad couldn’t resist a lollipop, Nicholas could.
I guess I took the news I already knew better than Drew did. He suddenly had to get to an appointment when Dr. Inglewood asked if it was okay to examine Tadpole and ask him a few questions. I wasn’t worried in the least when I said yes. I think a mom just knows these things. I knew Tadpole was fine, well, besides the fact that he was going through the threes that is. Comparing the two of them was like comparing Drew and me. Nicholas was so smart, so absorbed in things. His attention span was a lot longer than Tadpole’s, but that was only with certain things. If it was about a bridge, Nicholas had hours of attention.
I didn’t mention it, but I answered the same assessment questions for Tadpole that I had for Nicholas. His score was the exact same as mine. I did it for Drew, too, but I didn’t really know how to answer the feeling questions. Drew was hard to read that way sometimes. He kept everything inside until it boiled to the surface, usually in a rage.
I endured the bumper-to-bumper traffic to take my boys to Xavier Park all the way in Malibu. I guess I needed the drive time to think. Putting a Disney movie in Tadpole’s DVD player and the construction of some suspension bridge in New York in Nicky’s, I set them up with headphones and set out in the ridiculous traffic.
Looking up from my cell phone, back to the traffic in front of me, I smiled at Drew’s text message.
Drew— I <4569834 you. I’m going to fix this. Don’t worry, okay?
Morgan— I’m just going to take the boys to Xavier Park for the afternoon. We’ll be home later. <874979374397439743 you too.
Drew— I wish you wouldn’t do that without me.
Morgan— I’m driving, Drew. We’re fine. Nicholas loves that park.
Drew— GRRRRRRR I wish you would talk to me, and tell me when you’re planning something like that. I would have gone with you. Stop texting and driving.
Morgan— I wish you would talk to me too. See you at home.
Drew— I <5 you.
Only a five.
I spent the hour and a half drive crying and listening to sad, depressing music, forcing the self-pity even deeper. I knew the diagnosis before I ever stepped foot in that office, but I guess the reality of hearing it hit harder than I’d thought it would. I did something I had never done in that moment. I took two pills while driving with my boys in the back seat. Traffic was barely moving. It wasn’t like I was driving eighty or something. I would be fine.
Twenty minutes later, I was pulled to the shoulder, waiting for the police. It was barely a bump; my SUV was fine. It was the car I rear-ended that got the most of it. I swear I didn’t know they stopped.
“Hello,” Drew answered. “What’s wrong?”
“I sort of rear-ended a car. We’re fine. We just have to wait for the cops.”
“Morgan, are you stoned?”
“What? No.” I protested, trying not to sound as lethargic as I felt. I thought I would just sit on a park bench and be over it before driving back. I was such an idiot. What the hell was I thinking? What the hell was I doing? “The car stopped in front of me, I just couldn’t stop in time.”
“You’re okay? The boys are okay?”
“Yes, Drew. Everything is fine. There is only a little dent in the front of the car. That’s it.”
“Okay, we’ll talk about it at home, but I think you’re under the influence of Lortab right now. You think I don’t know, but I do. I can always tell, Morgan.”
“I took one pill, Drew. I’ve had a rough day, and I have a headache from hell.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
The officer didn’t think I was under the influence of drugs, he thought the puffy, crying eyes were from being a spoiled little rich bitch. Acting like a Hollywood drama diva. Whatever. He could think what he wanted.
After lunch at the park, I had to make the boys go home. Nicholas loved the bridge that hovered above the playground and spent the entire three hours going round and around, circling the entire playground. It was actually kind of nice. I could sit on the bench and keep one eye on him above me, and the other on Tadpole, sliding down the tunnel slide for the fiftieth time.
DVD’s weren’t needed on the drive home. Nicholas was out in two minutes and Tad was seconds behind him. I called Drew as soon as I was on the right road home. I guess I didn’t want to wait. I didn’t want to anticipate the fight for the next hour and a half, the inevitable argument. I deserved whatever Drew wanted to do to me. I put our kids’ lives in danger for my addiction. I had a problem.
I couldn’t interpret the mood from the tone. “Hello,” he answered with a flat tone.
“Hey.”
“I don’t want to talk about anything, Morgan. I want to ask you to trust me, and let me take care of everything.”
“What does that mean, Drew?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want you getting an appointment with a therapist for Nicky here. I don’t want you giving him medication for anything.”
“It’s not for Asperger’s, Drew. It’s just something mild for his ADHD,” I explained the same thing he already heard from Dr. Inglewood.
“He doesn’t need that. Not yet. I’m asking one thing, Morgan. Trust me.”
“I don’t know what I’m trusting you with, Drew. You’re being crazy.”
“I’m not, baby. Just trust me with everything. Let’s not discuss it. Let’s get through Nicky’s birthday.”
“Are we moving?”
“Morgan,” Drew warned.
“This is going to drive me nuts. You do know this, right?”
“Yes, I’m sure of it. Get off the phone and pay attention to the road. I’ll talk to you when you get home.”
“You said we weren’t talking about anything. We’re not talking about that,” I countered. If we couldn’t talk about Nicky than we shouldn’t talk about my incident either.
“I didn’t mean that. We’re discussing that. I love you. Drive safe.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Bye
, love.”
I couldn’t figure Drew out for the life of me. He helped me with supper, he kissed and flirted with me, and he played on the floor with the boys while we watched television. I was beginning to wonder if his plan was just to go back to the way things were supposed to be, ignore everything else in real life.
I have to admit, I liked the pretending better than real life. Having my body half across Drew’s with our boys sleeping all over us made my heart warm. I missed us being this way. I pretended to pay attention to what was on TV, just to keep us this way. My eyes locked with Drew’s for a second when he stood to take Nicholas from my lap. The way he slowly moved into me stirred things I hadn’t felt in a while.
The only way to describe the way Drew looked at me was a mixture of love, lust, anger, and dominance. Drew wanted to punish me. I knew the look well. I stared after him, rubbing Tadpole’s back until Drew came and took him, too. All the years of being with Drew, my heart still pounded in my chest. Fear stirred with excitement, and I felt the familiar throb between my legs. Shit. Fuck. Damn. I was on my period. Dammit!
Drew sat beside me on the sofa and pulled me to his lap. I straddled him and we kissed. The tension lingered around us in a fog while our tongues entwined, matching our moans. My body grinded into his, my hips thrust into his, and my hands held his face. His were all over me, including my now exposed breasts.
“Drew,” I moaned, pulling away.
Half coherent, Drew’s lips went to my neck and then the erect nipple, begging for attention. Shit, I didn’t want to tell him. “Hmmm?” he mumbled. My nipple reacted to the vibration of his hum and I moaned again. Gahhh.
“I’m on my period.” I moaned again when he didn’t stop.
“Morgan,” he rasped in my neck, sending chills down my spine. His words were like ice and I felt the cold. “I have to, baby.”
“You can. I want you to,” I responded, sinking my tongue between his lips.
“Why? Why do you say that?” he asked, squeezing my arms and staring up at me.
“Because you need it and because I deserve it.”
“Why do you think you deserve to be punished?” Drew asked in the way he would the boys.
“I did something really stupid.”
“What did you do, Morgan?” Drew asked, biting my bottom lip and fisting my hair in the back of my head. Drew was trying not to be angry, but I still worried that he’d go too far, he’d get too mad, and cross another line we couldn’t uncross. We had enough unforgettable crossed lines to last a lifetime.
“I took drugs with the boys in the car,” I admitted. Drew kissed me hard. His mouth was hungry and full of anger. He had every right to be angry and I couldn’t blame him one bit. I can be judged for that stupid decision, yes, but in my defense, we’ve all done them. It’s those things you never, ever do again. Close calls. The ones you think about and promise never to let happen again. A lesson well learned. Something bad could have happened.
“I’m going to beat your bare ass with my belt,” Drew warned, angrily tossing me to the sofa. He towered above me with a fistful of hair. “Go to our room, take your clothes off, and bend over the bed. Now.”
I did what I was told and bent over our bed, naked. I didn’t think Drew was ever going to come. I knew it was a form of torture, anticipation. My breath caught in my throat when I finally heard the door open quietly. Keeping my hands on the bed, I kept my eyes straight ahead. I heard the rattle of the metal on the belt and swallowed down the breath. Why he walked like he did was another form of torture. It took him forever to get to me.
That’s when I knew. That’s the night I knew the old Drew would never come back. A lump too big to swallow caught in my throat again when Drew flipped me to my back. Pinning me to the bed, he held my arms to the mattress. I waited with the still breath for his words to catch up with his cold, dark eyes and lash out at me.
“I can’t, Morgan,” he admitted. The sound of the belt dropping to the floor was deafening. I didn’t know what to say. He had so much emotion in his eyes. I didn’t know if they were angry, hurt, sad, frightened…hell, it was probably all of those things. My wide eyes stared up at him while my mind tried to think of something to say.
“I feel like such a failure, Morgan. How the hell did we get here?”
Drew rolled off me and propped himself up on one elbow. His eyes steadied on his hand caressing my naked stomach.
Had he asked that during one of our fights I would have reminded him that he moved us here, but this wasn’t a fight. This felt like rock bottom. The one where there was nowhere else to go but up. Drew dropped his weight and pulled me close to him. Without a doubt, I knew Drew shed tears while he held me close like he needed a hug, a really long hug.
“Drew, what’s going on with Nicky is not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s who he is. I need you to accept that,” I explained, wrapped in his body. Maybe not seeing his face made it easier to talk about it. It felt okay for whatever reason.
“I’m trying, I’m trying so hard. It’s not that I don’t want to accept it. I just don’t understand why him? I don’t want Nicholas to be different. I don’t want my son to be the last one picked on the playground. I don’t want him to sit on the sideline and wish he could play basketball. I don’t want him to be different.”
“He can play basketball,” I reminded him, not that he would want to. Nicky didn’t really get into that stuff. Not yet anyway. “I don’t know what to say, Drew. I hate the thought of my baby being left out, or made to feel less because he’s not the same as everyone else, too. I’ve seen it happen already. It hurts.”
And the contact was broken. Drew pulled away to face me. “What do you mean you’ve already seen it happen?”
“Remember when you said I enable him, too?”
“Yeah?” he questioned.
“I do. I’ve put him in a safe little bubble and haven’t let him out of my sight. We stopped going to Wednesday play dates because he doesn’t like it. He sits alone and watches.”
“But you can’t take him out of society. That’s not what he needs.”
Dropping to my back, I breathed a deep breath. “That’s not really why I did it. The day I decided he wasn’t going back, I watched Chelsea move Myra away from Tadpole. I couldn’t hear her, but I knew she was telling her not to play with him.”
“Why wouldn’t she want her to play with Tadpole?”
“I don’t know, same reason she doesn’t want her kids around Nicky, I guess, but that’s not what made me pull them out. They had a fire drill. Drew you should have seen Nicholas. I have never seen him so frightened in all my life. He held his ears, rocked, and cried with a look I never want to see on his face again.”
“Oh my god, Morgan?”
“What?”
“Was that the day before I took him to the dentist and you took Tadpole the doctor?”
“Yeah. Why?” I asked, wondering where he was going with a peculiar look.
“We were on our way home and got stopped in construction. Nicholas was watching a roller flatten fresh tar. I asked him if he wanted to do that when he grew up. He asked me a million questions about jobs that didn’t have fire drills. He was very adamant about places to work where they didn’t have fire drills.”
“He’s afraid of them. Like terrified, Drew. It took all day to calm him down from that.”
“Why? Why is he so afraid of a fire drill?”
“The noise, I’m guessing.”
“Okay, okay, we’re not supposed to be talking about this. Not yet.”
“I like talking about it. I can’t do this without you, Drew. I need you on board.”
“But you promised to trust me. I want you to go to the beach house next weekend for a few days. I need to go out of town for business, and I don’t want to leave you here. Call Alicia.”
“Why do you have to do that? I don’t want you going back to working like that.”
“I’m not. I promise. Trust me, okay?”
“I trust you, Drew,” I admitted with uncertainty.
I had all intentions of going in there with the belt and leaving my displeasure all over Morgan’s ass. I was irate. I was beyond furious. Pretending that it never happened around the boys was easy. I guess I liked pretending. I liked my family being close, vegged out on the sofa and watching cartoons. I loved Morgan’s hand in mine, Nicholas sleeping across her lap, and Tadpole, well, I’m not sure what he was doing. That boy slept in some of the most awkward positions.
The force not to hurt her was stronger than the one to hurt her. My cock was ready to explode thinking about Morgan naked, bent over the bed and waiting for me. The sick part is, I knew her pussy was madly throbbing, too. She loved it as much as she hated it. I loved it as much as I hated it. The only thing that stopped me was one word. Hurt. I didn’t want to hurt her, and no matter how much my dick was telling me to do it. I couldn’t.
We needed that talk, and for the first time since I’d met Morgan, I was glad she was on her period. We did nothing that night but talk. I kissed her soft lips every chance I got, and kept her naked legs tangled with mine. Morgan was such a good mom. Other than the fact of the one thing we were still going to discuss. Besides her stupidity to drive my kids around while under the influence of pain pills, she was the best mom she could be.
Morgan had enough money to hire people to do everything for her. She could have had a nanny, a housekeeper, a cook, any of it. She didn’t want it. She wanted to be the one who made our morning coffee and the one who made bridges out of pancake batter and squares with skinny legs that always broke before she got them to the plate. Morgan wanted the experience of folding tiny onesies and Spider Man pajamas. Morgan wanted to make our meals with love, not money, and I loved that about her. Her way was much more private.
Morgan’s hand stopped, her fingers stationed from tracing mine, and her legs stiffened between mine. “Go get me the pills, Morgan,” I ordered.
An Underestimated Christmas (Underestimated 3) Page 10