“No, of course not,” his mother relented. “Have you told her about your autism?”
“I don’t have it. We got kicked out of a support group because they thought you were bragging on me,” Ryan reminded her.
“Are you afraid if she knew, she’d decide you were too much to handle on top of Drew? That she’d pick Drew over you? You’re the adult, so any conflict between you and him, you have to step aside.”
“I don’t need her to treat me with kid gloves,” Ryan said. “I don’t need you to keep reminding me and acting like I’m some kind of emotional cripple.”
“But you don’t feel emotions the way we do,” his mother said heavily. “You had to take acting lessons to feign the emotions to get along with people. That doesn’t mean you actually feel them.”
Ryan hung up. He shook his phone and held it tight, not wanting to throw it.
She thinks I’m a freak. She thinks I’m not normal the way she is. She thinks I can’t love.
I’m proving her wrong. I’m going to love Jamie, Drew, and Ben and they’re going to love me back, like a normal family, because I don’t have autism. I was misdiagnosed. They did that a lot back in those days. If I had autism, I wouldn’t feel the things I do when I’m with Jamie, Drew, and Ben.
What I feel has to be love. It has to be.
It was only after he put on his headphones and played his favorite Who song, “Behind Blue Eyes,” that he realized he’d skipped his bedtime routine at Jamie’s house and he hadn’t melted down.
Was he evil to want Jamie and her boys as a way to prove himself? Or was his love going to turn into vengeance against all the ways he was held back?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“How would you guys like to go fishing?” Ryan set his duffel bag and fishing gear down at the doorway of Jamie’s house.
“Is that a fishing rod?” Ben picked up the rod and reel. “Where’s the hook?”
“Careful not to get the line tangled,” Ryan said. “I’ll show you two how to attach the hooks, sinkers, and bait, if you go fishing with me tonight.”
“Tonight?” Jamie wiped her hands with a dishtowel and stepped toward them. “Where?”
“Arizona Canal,” Ryan said. “They’ve got lots of good fishing now that the winter rains are gone. We can stop by a bait shop and get licenses for everyone.”
“Why so late?” Jamie’s eyebrows drew together and her lips turned down. “The boys are going to be tired from baseball and running around in the park.”
“We can come back here mid-afternoon, eat a snack and let them have a nap,” Ryan said.
“We don’t take naps anymore,” Ben said. “Drew doesn’t need to sleep much.”
“Evening’s when we can get bass,” Ryan explained. “They come out from under the bridges to feed.”
“What’s a bass?” Ben asked. “I had a teacher named Mrs. Bass.”
“It’s a fish,” Drew said. “It can be either large-mouthed or small-mouthed.”
Drew had been learning about fish at school and besides baseball, drawing pictures of fish and identifying them was his current obsession.
“My teacher’s named after a fish?” Ben giggled. “Are we going to eat it, too?”
“Of course. Bass is one of the best tasting fish,” Ryan said. “If we catch a bass, your mother can fry it up for us.”
Drew squatted next to the rod and reel and studied it. He turned the handle, but Ryan had tied off the line, so he flipped the bail and the line unspooled, making a mess.
“Uh oh, little guy,” Ryan said. “I’m going to have to show you two how to wind this back in.”
“I know how,” Drew said. He expertly turned the reel handle and the bail snapped back in place.
“How do you know?” Jamie wondered. “We’ve never gone fishing before.”
“He’s seen it on TV,” Ben said. “He doesn’t forget anything.”
“Well, good, so if it’s okay with your mother, we can catch our dinner tonight.” Ryan shot Jamie a look that had never failed with women before.
“Can we? Please?” Ben put his hands in a praying position and beamed at his mother. The kid had some real acting chops going.
Jamie looked at Ryan and one side of her mouth angled up. “We don’t usually do so many things in a day. Going out for tacos and the trip to the park is a lot of activity.”
Ryan could tell she was worried about Drew’s ability to take in new things without melting down. “We don’t have to go if we’re too tired after playing ball.”
“Okay, let’s see how everyone feels,” Jamie said. “Drew, time to go potty. We are going in the car to get tacos.”
“What type of tacos do you like to eat?” Ryan asked Drew.
“Fish tacos. Drew likes fish.”
Jamie’s feet dragged after chasing her boys and the baseball around the park. Even though spring in Phoenix was bearable, the sun still shone hot and the area wasn’t known for large trees. While Ryan sat in the beach chair catching and directing, she played outfield and she swore she could see heat waves rising from the dusty diamond.
She was sweaty and her muscles ached, but seeing the joy on both Ben and Drew’s faces was worth her legs feeling like noodles.
“Are we too tired to go fishing?” she asked, hopefully. Because of all the time and attention Drew required, their family wasn’t used to staying away from home for such long periods of time.
Fortunately, Ryan had taken Drew to the bathroom throughout the afternoon, and he hadn’t had an accident yet. He had also eaten his lunch, drank his milk, and he’d played well, even dictating the rules for their basic batting and catching game.
“I’m not tired,” Ben said, hopping up and down. “Ryan, are you tired?”
“Who me? No way.” He gave Ben a high five.
“Drew, what about you?” Jamie said. “Do you want to go home?”
Drew glanced up from studying the stitching on his baseball glove. He even looked at her eyes. “I want to go fishing.”
A glow warmed inside of Jamie and she hugged him. “You like fishes, don’t you?”
“Like fish,” he said, still stiff and not hugging her back, but neither did he push her away.
“Okay, then you catch fish and I’ll cook them.” She kissed the top of his head. “Looks like I’m outvoted.”
“You can catch them, too,” Ryan said. “I can fry them up as good as anyone.”
Happily, the little group packed up their baseball gear and walked to Jamie’s SUV.
After stopping at a bait and tackle shop, where they bought worms, ice, and licenses, Ryan set the directions on her phone to a residential neighborhood bordering a section of the Arizona Canal where he claimed he’d caught bass before. It wasn’t too far from their house, which was a good thing in case anyone got tired or cranky.
On the way, he showed the boys pictures of fish on his phone: blue gill, carp, bass, and catfish. Drew, of course, was able to identify them all.
Jamie parked the SUV on the street near the canal. The trees were spindly and there was no shade, but it was late afternoon so she didn’t expect it to be as hot as it had been at the park. The canal was banked on both sides by concrete and traced a straight line down the middle of a shrubby narrow parkway.
Since Ryan wasn’t supposed to lift more than ten pounds, Jamie and Ben hefted the ice chest into a wagon, and Ryan held Drew’s hand as they trekked toward the canal.
“Do the boys know how to swim?” Ryan asked.
Jamie’s shoulders sagged, and she shook her head. “I haven’t had time to take them.”
“The water’s pretty high after all the rain we had this year. I’ll need the boys to stay at least three feet back from the edge. Do you have life jackets?”
“No, we don’t usually go anywhere,” Jamie said. She should have thought about that earlier. Maybe it would be better to bail out now. “Maybe we can do this another time after I’ve bought life jackets?”
“But Mom, we�
�re here now.” Ben said, disappointment written all over his face. “We’ll be careful.”
Ryan gathered the boys around him. “Ben, Drew, I need you two to pay attention. You two don’t know how to swim, so if you want to fish, you have to stay away from the water. Promise me you won’t go near the water, or we have to leave.”
“I promise.” Ben raised his hand. “Now, can we fish?”
“Drew, are you listening to me?” Ryan turned Drew by the chin and pointed to the water. “We have a rule around water. If you want to fish, you have to stay on the dirt, right here. You can’t step on the concrete.”
He put his foot on the concrete and said, “No,” then stamped his foot on the gravel and dirt area. “You stand here, but not there.”
Jamie’s stomach gnawed with worry. What was she thinking having Ryan take the kids fishing? Neither of them knew how to swim, and even if they did, the fall down into the water would be dangerous.
“Drew, you listen to Ryan,” Jamie said, reinforcing him. “If you want to fish, you can’t cross this line.”
She traced the dividing line between the dirt area and the concrete embankment. “Same with you, Ben. You hear?”
“Got it,” Ben said. “No going closer than the dirt.”
“Drew? What did we say about fishing rules?” Jamie reiterated.
“Not close,” Drew said, but his eyes were on the rod and reel.
Jamie gave Ryan an apologetic look. “I’m going to take them swimming this summer. It’s on my to-do list.”
“I thought we were doing baseball this summer,” Ben said.
“We might be able to do both if Drew is potty trained and sleeps more at night,” Jamie said. She hated that Ben had to choose between one activity or the other and oftentimes got none. Today was so special to him because he got to do baseball and fishing. Perking up, she said, “Let’s get the worms onto the hooks, and you guys catch us some dinner.”
Both boys gathered around Ryan as he explained how the reel worked, how to hook a finger on the line when casting and then letting go to fling the hook and bait out into the water.
He then showed them how to the bait the hooks and put the sinkers and shots on the line.
“Okay, Drew, go stand next to your mother and I’ll show Ben how to cast.” He waved for Ben to join him.
Drew didn’t move back, so Jamie tugged him to her side. He didn’t like it one bit and whined, squirming to get loose.
“You have to wait your turn,” Jamie said. “It’s only fair.”
“I want fish. Fish. Fish.” He struggled to get away from Jamie.
This wasn’t going well at all. Jamie couldn’t let him go because of the danger, and Drew was getting himself worked up into a frenzy.
Jamie wrapped Drew’s arms around each other and held him steadily against her body. “You have to wait your turn.”
“My turn. My turn,” Drew said.
This was more like a tantrum than a meltdown, because he was trying to get his way.
Jamie held onto him and walked him around. “You’re not going to fish until you can listen to us. If you act out, we’re going home.”
“No home, fish,” Drew said.
“Then you have to wait your turn. Here comes Ryan now.”
Drew relaxed his tension, and Jamie released him from her grip. He headed straight for the rods.
“Hey, bud, you ready to fish?” Ryan picked out the smaller rod which already had a worm on the line. “It’s your turn, but you have to do everything I say.”
“Okay,” Drew said, bouncing up and down. He trotted over with Ryan to the edge of the canal, stopping before the concrete embankment.
Jamie watched with bated breath as Ryan helped Drew cast the line into the water. He wrapped Drew’s hands around the rod and showed him how to move it to keep the hook from languishing on the bottom. Thankfully, he didn’t leave Drew’s side, glancing over and saying something to Ben every so often.
“I think I caught something,” Ben said, reeling the line. The rod bent down as Ben followed the fish around.
Jamie put her phone in video mode and pointed it at Ben.
“It’s a big one,” Ryan said. “Look how he’s fighting. Keep the pressure on to tire him out.”
“I can see him,” Ben said.
“Keep that rod up and don’t let him get too much slack,” Ryan instructed.
Ben ran back and forth, pulling and tugging. “He’s really strong. I can’t pull him out.”
“You have to tire him out first,” Ryan said. “Keep reeling him in.”
Jamie got closer and spotted the slivery flip of the fish in the canal. She wanted to capture the action of Ben landing his first fish.
“All right, Ben,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”
The fish wiggled on the line, flopping on the surface of the water. It must have been at least a foot long, if not more.
“Drag him up, but don’t jerk the line,” Ryan said. “Easy does it. You’ve got it. It’s a big one.”
Splash.
Jamie screamed as Drew tumbled into the canal. He disappeared into the murky water, leaving rings where he went down.
Ryan jumped in and Jamie scrambled down onto the bank, lying on her stomach to reach for her baby. She couldn’t swim, because her mother was afraid of water and never gave her lessons.
The canal was deep and it was getting dark. Jamie could see bubbles where Drew had gone in. “Hurry, Ryan. He should be right there.”
Ryan swam under the water, splashing wildly in his search. The seconds ticked by before he surfaced, dragging Drew’s flailing body.
The boy coughed, but instead of hanging onto Ryan, he looked like he was trying to get away.
“Fish, fish,” he sputtered between coughs as Ryan hoisted him up to Jamie.
“My baby, my baby,” Jamie cried, hysterical. She checked him for cuts and bruises and slapped his back to help him cough up water. “We have to call the ambulance. He swallowed water. He could get sick.”
“Is he okay?” Ryan asked as he climbed out. “Let me check him out.”
“Fish, fish.” Drew swatted their hands and lunged toward Ben who had landed the fish. It was flopping around on the gravel while Ben stood, petrified.
“Is he okay?” Ben asked.
“Give him the fish,” Ryan said. “I bet he’ll be okay as soon as he has the fish.”
Ben picked up the fish and held it as it tried to wiggle from his grasp. “Here, Drew.”
Drew never hugged anything the way he hugged that gasping fish. He didn’t like stuffed animals, saying the fur made him itch. But when he smiled at the fish, Jamie’s heart melted a little bit more.
“Drew’s going to be okay, thanks to Ryan. And Ben, thanks for letting your brother hold the fish.” Jamie gave her older son a hug. “I think we had a long day, and it’s time to go home.”
“I agree,” Ryan rubbed his arms and shivered in the chilly evening breeze. “Drew and I need to get into some warm, dry clothes.”
“And we can eat the fish I caught,” Ben said.
“We sure can.” Ryan ruffled Ben’s hair. “Your brother gave us a scare, but we still got our fish.”
“It’s a bass,” Drew said, pointing at the two dorsal fins. “And I chased it out of the water.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The backyard porch swing creaked as Jamie rocked herself later that evening. She clutched a fleece blanket and stared into the dark night, replaying the scene of Drew tumbling into the water.
Ryan was inside the house with the boys, playing video games, and all three of them acted as if nothing had happened. They were so excited about the fish, they didn’t care that they were soaking wet, or that Ryan’s stitches could get infected, or that Drew could have aspirated water and caught pneumonia, or that Jamie was a horrible mother.
Nope, they’d taken their fill of pictures, with Ben holding the fish, and then Drew holding the fish, and then all three of them with the fish in
between them. On the way home, Drew insisted on holding the fish, even though it was barely alive. He petted the scales and the fins, and didn’t truly understand why the fish had stopped moving.
Ben, meanwhile, had asked her to call Marcia so he could brag to Bianca about the big monster fish he caught. He texted pictures to her and chattered nonstop to Ryan all the way home.
After trailing dirt into the house, the three males headed for the kitchen where Ryan had Drew take turns with Ben to scale the fish. He’d cleaned it, dusted it with flour, salt, and pepper and fried it in butter.
It was scrumptious and many pictures were taken of Ben with the fish in front of the frying pan, Drew with the fish and flour in his hair, both before and after it had been turned into fillets.
It went down in the record books as a good day for Drew. No meltdowns, one tantrum averted, and one save from drowning by Ryan.
Except it was a horrible day for Jamie.
She was a stay-at-home mother who couldn’t find the time to take her precious boys swimming. She was dependent on Drew’s therapists and counselors to teach him basic coping skills. She didn’t have an in-home job like some of the other moms of autistic children who made crafts, did medical transcriptions, or ran websites for companies. Nor did she work outside the home, like the nurses who would work night shift while taking care of their child during the day. Why, there was a mother of autistic twins in her group who not only homeschooled them, but also managed to volunteer for the autistic children’s sports program. That woman was also a certified lifeguard, not a lamer who couldn’t even swim to save her own child’s life.
Jamie closed her eyes and tried to dispel the horror of seeing her son disappear into the murky canal. Her uncle had drowned when he was a boy, and her mother had watched it happen. She had been seven, only a year older than him, and she never went close to water again.
Then her father had to go and die in a jet ski accident, and that had sealed the fate for her tiny family as far as water went. And now this.
It could have been worse.
But still, she shouldn’t have agreed to go fishing at the canal. She’d known it was risky, thought about staying home, so why couldn’t she stand up for herself when Ryan and the boys ganged up on her?
Playing for the Save (Men of Spring Baseball Book 3) Page 13