by Rae Walsh
She had closed her eyes as she spoke. The pressure of their eyes directed at her was too much, but she knew they needed to hear it all. So she spoke and inwardly begged them to understand. This was hard. She knew she would be exhausted later, that she would need all her tricks to not melt down after so much vulnerability. And so she poured her heart out and then waited in the silence.
Chapter Thirteen
Theresa opened her eyes and saw that Maddie had her face buried in her hands. Feeling a deep twist of pain and grief, Theresa got up and went to her, leaning over to pull her daughter close. Maddie softened into her, resting her head on Theresa’s shoulder and crying into her neck.
“What is it, Little?” Theresa whispered.
Maddie pulled back, wiping at her face and sniffing. Katie handed her a tissue, and she took it, smiling at Katie, then looking back at Theresa with large eyes.
“You just sound so…good.” Her face crumpled, and she started crying again. Theresa stayed with her, rubbing her back until she was finished. When Maddie’s eyes were dry, Theresa went back to her seat and tried for composure. She breathed. She ate a mouthful of bread. She put another spicy, creamy spoonful of soup in her mouth. The soup was divine. Katie went into the house and came back with an enormous salad. She set it in the middle of the table. Theresa’s eyes widened.
“Wow,” she said. “Real food.”
“My mom loves vegetables,” Maddie said to Katie.
The words ‘my mom’ were a tiny bit of salve on Theresa’s exposed heart.
Theresa glanced over at her brother, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She couldn’t tell what his expression meant. Theresa looked at her mother, but Dorothy just shrugged.
“It helps if you say what you’re thinking,” she said suddenly, and Sam glanced up. “If you want to,” she added. Allow people an out, came her therapist’s words.
“I forgive you,” Sam said. “I think I’m still a bit angry, mostly on Maddie’s behalf. But some on mine too. We went through a lot here, and it would have helped to know Maddie had already been arrested for shoplifting. But I forgive you. Thank you for saying all of that.”
Theresa nodded. Relief bloomed inside of her. She willed herself not to cry.
“Do you have a diagnosis?” Katie asked.
Theresa took a breath. “Yes,” she said. “Aspergers. Or high functioning Autism, they call it now.”
“What?” Sam asked, leaning forward, his palms on the table. “No way.”
“What do you mean, ‘no way?’” Theresa asked.
He stared at her. “I mean, isn’t autism the Rain Man disorder?” He shook his head. “You’re not like that.”
“Sam!” Katie said, putting her hand over his. “If you don’t know anything about it, maybe don’t speak.” She turned to Theresa. “I’ve actually wondered if you were autistic for a while. Maddie described a little of what life was like for you. The things that were hard for you. The way it takes you a long time to recover.”
Theresa shifted in her seat. She didn’t like the idea of Maddie telling Katie all about Theresa’s odd problems. But Katie went on.
“Back when I worked in HR, I helped two or three people who were on the spectrum, both at our branch and the New York branch. What Maddie described sounded similar to some of their issues.”
Theresa’s emotions shifted quickly from discomfort to relief at Katie’s words. She couldn’t hold back a genuine smile for Katie, who blinked at her and sighed.
“You really are so pretty. Okay, I’m going to get dessert and then you can tell Sam how many women have gone undiagnosed because doctors didn’t know women could have Aspergers or how it presented in women, and then we can eat sweet stuff and talk about your dreams for the future, now that you live here.” She shot Theresa a rueful smile, and gave Sam a look that Theresa couldn’t interpret, then walked into the house, letting the screen door swing shut behind her.
“I always wondered if your dad had Asperger’s disorder,” Dorothy said suddenly.
“What?” Sam asked. Dorothy nodded, her mouth full of salad. Sam stared at his mother for a few beats, but she didn’t say anything else. “Is it true?” he asked Theresa. “Do women go undiagnosed?”
Theresa nodded. “Mom, do you remember how I would cry if I had to wear my school uniform?”
“Of course I do,” Theresa’s mother said. She dabbed at her eyes, and Maddie put a hand on her shoulder. “How teachers said I was mean to other kids, and I was baffled? How I would get so tired after a day of school that I slept all afternoon and then didn’t get my homework done and failed classes that I was smart enough for? How it was so simple to deceive me…” she stopped talking with a glance at Maddie, who was gazing at her.
“You mean by my father, right?” Maddie said. “Do I get to know who he is now, too?”
“Maddie,” said Katie, coming back with a pie in one hand and a bowl of whipped cream in the other. She laid the two dishes on the table and stood back, crossing her arms. “Am I the only one who can see how hard this conversation is for your mom? You and Sam might show a little compassion.”
“My whole life,” Maddie said, slumping in her chair, “has been about how hard things are for my mom. I’m tired of it.”
Oh, there was Maddie’s anger. Theresa had been expecting it, wondering when it would turn up. Theresa breathed, counting until she had breathed three long breaths through the pain in her heart. “Fair enough,” she said. “But things will be different now, Madeleine Sky. I promise.”
Maddie just looked at her. Theresa willed her daughter to remember the rest of their life together, not only the bad parts. Sweet days of playing on the floor, snow castles, popcorn and movies, candles and music in the living room while they danced. Finally, Maddie nodded.
“Okay,” she said.
As Theresa let out a breath, she realized there was a piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream on the table in front of her. She smiled at Katie and took a bite. It was delicious, but all Theresa wanted was to go home. How long until lunch was over? Surely the worst was past. She could recover from this conversation and then slowly, over a long time, show them she had changed. She was more aware of herself, her limitations. It made life more comfortable, and Theresa a lot easier to live with. At least, she thought so.
“So, Theresa, what are your plans now?” Katie asked. “I know I’m hoping that Aveline will have its own potter-in-residence.”
Theresa smiled and nodded. “Yes, I want a studio and a shop at home,” she said. “But I’ll need your help, little brother.”
Sam sat forward, his face changing as he heard her words.
“Yes!” Katie cried. “This is so exciting. I can’t believe I have a potter for a sister-in-law!”
“Yes, that is wonderful, Reesey,” Dorothy said. “I can’t wait to tell my friends. They’ll all shop at your store if I have anything to say about it.”
An autistic potter who has estranged most of her family with bad behavior, and attracts the wrong kind of people, Theresa thought, but she was warmed by Katie’s words. She could really use an ally in this town. One she hadn’t damaged with her challenges.
“I would never have believed that I would have a professional chef as a sister-in-law,” she said shyly.
Just then, the sound of singing wafted toward them. Theresa froze. She knew the voice and the song well. Three Little Birds sung slightly off-key. Slowly, she turned to look at the street. A tall figure wearing brown cords, a snug white button-up, and suspenders was walking up the sidewalk toward them.
Sam gave a low whistle and said, “Wow, what did you do to make Sheldon wear the Reesey outfit?”
“Sam!” Theresa hissed, horrified. “Be quiet!”
“That’s the Reesey outfit?” Katie asked. “Wow, he does look stunning, doesn’t he? Did you realize Sheldon was that handsome?” she asked Maddie, then frowned and shook her head. “Never mind.”
“Gross,” Maddie said.
“Sorry,” K
atie said. “My head has been turned by that shirt. He looks… ripped.”
Sam frowned. “Stop looking at Sheldon,” he said.
“He does look rather delicious,” Theresa’s mother mused.
“All of you shut up,” Theresa said under her breath. Sheldon was humming his way up the stairs. At the top, he paused for effect and looked at the five of them.
“Hi—Oh, Theresa! I didn’t realize you were here too!” His surprise was so fake, it was hilarious. Theresa narrowed her eyes at him.
“What is your game today, Taz?” she asked him.
“Mom!” Maddie groaned, her face turning red.
Katie stood. “Let me pull up a chair,” she said. “You’re just in time for dessert and Theresa’s description of her plans for a pottery studio.”
Sheldon gave Theresa a tiny wink, nearly imperceptible, as he sat down. He sighed with happiness over the pie Katie handed him.
“Pie is just what I needed,” he declared.
“Even pie you weren’t invited for?” Theresa asked, her voice sweet.
Sheldon choked. Maddie exclaimed, “Mom!” again, and Sam narrowed his eyes at Theresa. Only Katie smiled, looking from Sheldon to Theresa and back. She sat back, chuckling.
“Sheldon has a permanent invitation,” Sam said. “You should know that, Reesey.”
“Do I?” Sheldon asked. “I should take advantage of it more often.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I’d love to order whatever pottery you can produce for my kitchenware aisle,” he said.
Theresa looked at him. “I’m not in the business of mass production.”
Sheldon snorted. “Do I look like I am? If you have any spare mugs, though, I’d love to sell them.”
“Thank you,” Theresa said, feeling the way she had to force the words out of her throat. Why was she so annoyed with him? It was the outfit, she decided. The clothing and the poem. She realized that everyone was waiting for her to respond to something, and Theresa hadn’t heard a word.
“Sorry, what?” she asked.
“I can start measuring and taking notes tomorrow,” Sam said. “This is going to be fun. How much construction are you imagining?”
Theresa forgot Sheldon for a moment, leaning forward with excitement welling up inside of her. Having clay in her hands would make life so much better.
“I need large windows, and a lot of shelves,” she said, “as well as a little room built for the kiln out back.”
They sat and talked through plans over cups of excellent coffee, and then Maddie went to get her bag so she could walk home with Theresa. Sam said he would arrive first thing in the morning with the rest of Maddie’s things, ready to start work on the studio.
“And we’ll keep your room here for you,” Katie said. “You can come and stay over whenever your mom says it’s okay.”
“Can I help carry anything?” Sheldon asked.
Theresa started to say no, but Maddie jumped in. “Yes! I’ll get you a box.”
Theresa rolled her eyes and hid a sigh. Sheldon gave her another wink, visible only to her. As they waited for Maddie to come back with the box, Katie hugged Theresa goodbye.
“When can we get together, just the two of us?” Katie asked.
“My schedule is open. You tell me,” Theresa said, feeling shy.
“How about taking our dogs for a walk on Saturday evening?” Katie suggested.
Theresa thought about it. Thought about the lake, rocks clicking under their feet, stars, dogs running around.
“Yes,” she said. “That sounds wonderful.” She was surprised to find that it actually did.
Chapter Fourteen
Sheldon set out from Sam and Katie’s house with Theresa and Maddie, just as the afternoon light shifted to golden. Despite the disapproval emanating from Theresa, Sheldon felt as though he was living a perfect day. He was walking beside a spunky kid, a friendly dog, and the most beautiful person in the world. Be cool, he told himself.
Theresa walked ahead with Remus at her heels, and that unique, forceful stride of hers, so familiar to Sheldon. He turned to Maddie for conversation.
“How’s school going since you went back, favorite fourteen-year-old?” he asked.
“Not bad, not great,” she said, smiling at him.
Maddie’s smile was still surprising. Not too long ago, she hadn’t smiled at all, and always wore a large black trench coat that resembled a trash bag. After the events of the summer, Sheldon knew she had worn it for the pockets. Maddie could slip any number of bottles of nail polish or tiny spoons into those pockets. But Maddie said she didn’t steal anymore, and in the clear light of her eyes, Sheldon saw it was true.
A memory came to him. Maddie, four years old, just a couple of weeks before Theresa left with her. The little girl sat on the grocery belt at Green’s, swinging her legs and shrieking with joy as Sheldon pushed the button to slide her along the conveyor belt.
Or, Maddie pushing a tiny cart around the store, piling it full of whatever ingredients she could reach. Table salt. Cream of tartar. Baked beans. A muffin pan. Insisting that all of these were her “fravrit” foods, her black hair swinging as she looked up at him over her shoulder.
Another memory—Maddie asleep in his arms on the shore of the lake.
“Shouldn’t I know who her father is if I’m going to be her dad?” Sheldon had asked Theresa, gazing down at Maddie’s eyes, which were squinched shut as though she was never at rest, even in sleep. Even then, she had been an intense, fierce little girl.
Theresa had choked on the tea she had just sipped from the thermos they took down to the lake on days like these. When she got her breath back, she looked at Sheldon with wide, terrified eyes.
“I’ll never tell you,” she said. “Sorry, Taz, but you can’t ask me that. I can’t. I can’t.”
Sheldon put his free arm around her stiff shoulders and tried to reassure her, though he was deeply disappointed. He did want to know who Maddie’s father was. Anyone would, he told himself.
Two weeks later, Reesey was gone. And though Sheldon was angry with her for years for leaving him so abruptly, deep down, he knew it was his fault. He shouldn’t have pushed her. Sheldon had been well aware that there was a painful story behind Maddie’s birth. Someone had taken advantage of Theresa’s vulnerability. It wasn’t hard to see. Stupidly, Sheldon had prodded the wound where Reesey hid Maddie’s father’s identity.
Sheldon had written Theresa letters of apology, but they all came back unopened. Sheldon spent years despising himself for what he’d done, then despising her for making him hate himself. Their story wasn’t beautiful or tragic—it was merely ugly and unfinished.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Maddie asked, her voice soft.
“What?” Sheldon was startled to find himself walking beside the nearly grown girl who had fallen asleep in his arms all those years ago. She had returned to him, though she remembered none of the fun they’d had together. Tears pricked at his eyes. “Sorry.”
“You missed Mom’s big announcement,” Maddie said, raising her voice so it would carry to Theresa, who still strode along in front of them. Remus loped beside her, reaching up to lick her hand every once in a while. She smiled down at the dog. Lucky dog, Sheldon thought.
Theresa’s shoulders tensed and lifted at the sound of Maddie’s voice, but she didn’t stop or turn around.
“Aspergers,” Maddie declared dramatically. “The answer to everything. Why Theresa can’t be bothered to be polite, or take care of her child, or tell her child anything at all about her own life.”
Theresa missed a step, nearly tripping. She regained her balance and kept walking, still not looking back. Her back was rigid.
“Maddie,” Sheldon said, his voice low and reproachful. He looked at her and saw that she had the decency to look ashamed. She was clearly fighting tears. Oh, these two beauties would have an uphill climb finding each other through the pain of the past.
“Hmm,” he mused. “Autism.
Like Daniel. I think I already knew.” He pitched his voice so it would carry to her, like Maddie had done, except that he hoped his words would build a bridge to her.
Theresa stopped short, turning around slowly, her face intense.
“What do you mean, Tazzy?” she asked.
“I was listening to something a few years ago. A podcast or something,” Sheldon said. He stopped just in front of her. “And it was talking about Aspergers, and I thought, ‘Oh, that sounds like Reesey. Everything makes so much sense now.’”
The look on her face, blazing up at him. She was thankful, he could tell, though she didn’t smile or touch him or say anything. She just stared at him, and he smiled gently into her face. Maddie sighed beside him.
“I guess I should have been listening to podcasts if I wanted to understand why my mom is such a weirdo.”
Theresa snapped her gaze away from Sheldon and onto her daughter’s face, her expression sad rather than angry.
“It will be better,” she said. “I promise. Though I will never not be a weirdo. I may be a better weirdo. We can hope.” She turned around and started walking again.
“Thank God you won’t stop being a weirdo,” Sheldon said. Theresa shot him a smile over her shoulder, and he felt as though she’d thrown him the sun.
“Speak for yourself,” Maddie muttered beside him.
Sheldon couldn’t understand what was going on with her. Why was she so angry? Theresa had moved here for her daughter—she was obviously trying her best. Sheldon was the one who had a right to a grudge if anyone did. He was about to ask Maddie about it, but a familiar voice called out to them.
“Theresa, Maddie,” Francisco called, crossing the street with three long strides. He smiled at the dog, who shoved his nose into the tall reverend’s hand. “Sheldon,” Francisco said, winking at Sheldon.