would you like to spend more time with your dad this summer, Michael?” Kicking her shoes to the other side of the room, Belle dropped back onto the sofa and lay there, flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. “Michael,” she said again, without glancing over. She knew what he was doing. Playing video games. The love of his life. Lately, though, he hadn’t been playing them so much as creating one of his own, doing preliminary sketches, working out the story details. “Did you hear me? I asked if you’d like to spend more time with your dad this summer.”
“Yeah,” Michael said, his rapt attention still fixed on his game.
“Well, he’s here. In Big Badger.” Not that telling him would make a difference, but he did process the information. Just not always on the spot. “And he wants to spend the summer with you. So you’ll have to start thinking about all the things you’d like to do with him, maybe make a list. OK?”
“Yeah,” he said.
Belle was sure he was simply telling her what she wanted to hear, and paying absolutely no attention to her at the same time. Complex mind. So complex that it scared her sometimes. Most of the time, though, she didn’t think about it. Because to Michael she was only Mom, doing the mom things she was supposed to do. Like making dinner. Her next chore. “What do you want to eat?” she asked him, then added, before he answered, “Not pizza. We’ve had that two night in a row now. So, what else?”
“Pizza,” he said anyway.
She wasn’t sure if that was because pizza was truly his favorite food or if it was simply what came to mind first, turning it into the easiest way to respond to her yet still stay focused on what he was doing. “No pizza,” she said emphatically.
“OK.” He turned to her, grinning. “Fried chicken, mashed potatoes without lumps with white gravy without lumps, corn on the cob and homemade biscuits. With honey.”
Belle moaned, then laughed. He did this on purpose—his sense of humor. Michael knew she couldn’t cook, at least not that kind of meal. And he teased her about it. “You mean hamburgers, don’t you? On the grill?”
“Can I cook them?” he asked.
“Do pigs fly?” she asked, teasing him.
“Only in another universe, Mom,” he said, then turned back to his game.
“When you say something cute like that, you know what I’m going to have to do, don’t you?”
“No!” he squealed, curling himself into a ball. “Not that!”
Belle rolled off the couch then crawled on hands and knees across the floor to Michael, who was rolling away from her. “Yes, that! The cuddle game. You know how much I love the cuddle game.” Her cuddle game was a form of hug therapy used on children who had an aversion to being touched, like Michael had had when he’d been younger. It was one of several sensory issues she’d been dealing with, along with loud noises and some bright colors. It had taken Belle years to get him to the point where accepting physical affection was a pleasant experience for him. Sometimes, even now, she wasn’t sure if it was or if he was merely putting on an act to placate her. Either way, it didn’t matter. A few minutes to cuddle her son meant everything. Everything.
“Can he come to dinner?” Michael asked, before Belle had even gotten all the way over to him.
Of all things, that was the one question that stopped her dead, threw that bucket of water on the cuddle game. Could Cade come to dinner? Her first response was, When pigs fly! She didn’t want to spend the evening with Cade. Didn’t particularly even want to be in the same room with him. But this was Michael asking. Michael, who never asked for anything except more RAM for his computer. “Well, I have a better idea than that. Why don’t I call your dad and see if he’ll come take you out for pizza?” Which was exactly what she did, when Michael’s attention, once again, returned to his game.
“He wants pizza, he wants you,” she said to Cade, when he answered his phone. “And what’s with the pickup truck I saw you in earlier?” A sleek, low-riding sports car was more his style.
“Had to rent something.”
“Well, Michael’s never been in a pickup truck so I don’t know if that’s going to work. You can leave it here and borrow my car.”
“Or I can leave your car right where it is and take him in the truck. Or would the two of you rather meet me somewhere?”
“I prefer the sound of a boys’ night out, while I take a long, hot bath and finish that mystery novel I’ve been trying to finish for the last month.” A night that might have, under different circumstances, been perfect. Tonight, though, the image of a cozy little family of three eating pizza together popped into her thoughts, making her feel, well, not sad for the present so much as sad for the things they’d had in the past. It seemed like such a long time ago. So far away it was difficult trying to remember when they’d been happy. They had been, though. In the early years, when Michael had still been a baby and she had been plunking along through medical school a little at a time, trying to balance motherhood and career. Good times for a while. So many hopes and dreams. Bright futures in the planning. But with a supportive husband for only such a short while before he’d started retreating. “Oh, and I’ve told Michael you’re going to be here for a while, and to get a list ready of things he wants to do with you. And before you tell me there’s nothing he wants to do with you, you’re wrong. There are a lot of things. You have to be patient, getting him to tell you.”
“But he will,” Cade replied. “Isn’t that what you always tell me? Be patient, and he’ll do it. Except he never does, Belle. Never does.”
He did, though. Cade simply wasn’t very good at picking up on the subtle signs. The irony was that that was a typical Asperger’s symptom. Only thing was, while Michael had Asperger’s, Cade did not. And it was Cade’s lack in that area that was, in part, responsible for the death of their marriage. “Then work on it. And, please, not video games and computers. He gets enough of that in his day-to-day life, and he really needs something else.”
“In Big Badger, Texas? What else is there, Belle? You pretty much came to the end of the earth with this job, and I can’t see this place being exactly stimulating for a child.”
“In Big Badger, Texas, you have to use your imagination. Get used to it, Cade. You’re the one who chose to spend six weeks here.” She thought she heard a groan on the other end of the phone. She smiled. “Pick him up in an hour. And make sure he wears his seat belt in that truck. He’s in a new phase where the seat belt bothers him, and he’ll take it off if he thinks you’re not watching. So watch him!”
“Anybody ever tell you to lighten up?”
“Anybody ever tell you that we’re divorced and I’m none of your business any more?” Still smiling, she clicked off. But rather than being angry, she was wondering if having Cade around for a while might be good. Definitely for Michael, but maybe a little bit for her, too? Funny thing was, since the moment she’d heard his voice out there on the Chachalaca, she’d had this peculiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, it was gone.
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