having Asperger’s won’t prevent ultimate success, but it will take him longer to learn and he needs more intensive, individual work, which his father has been giving him.”
“For batting, you said. But what about the other skills, like catching and fielding?”
“I honestly don’t know. I only know that he can’t learn to be part of a team without being on a team. It’s the socialization process that’s hard. But, most important, Elliot wants to be part of it. He’s enamored with the idea of playing ball. He says over and over that he wants to be with them, meaning the other kids.” Needing to do something, she set her glass in the sink. “That drive, that need, can take him far. He just requires more help than the average kid to get there. And perhaps success might be measured a little differently than with other children, but doesn’t he deserve that chance?”
“Are you sure you didn’t go to law school, after all?” he asked.
She didn’t appreciate the reminder, but she didn’t call him on it. “I hope that means I’ve swayed you, because he needs an impartial advocate.”
“I’ll let you know tomorrow after I’ve met him and his parents, and dug around a little more.”
When she didn’t respond, he glanced at her kitchen clock. “I’d better get going. If you can get that info and fax or email it to me before we meet, I’d appreciate it.”
She nodded, then followed him to the front door, noting how he’d taken one last glance at the yearbook, in the same way she had with his trophy case in his office. He was holding back, just as she was, she realized. There were things that needed saying, and at some point they would have to be said.
But first things first. Elliot was more important than long-buried emotions. It wasn’t like her to hold so much inside, but it was necessary this time.
She held the front door open as Rafe stepped outside. One safety light stayed spotlighted on the pool all night, even though a decorative metal fence prevented anyone from accidentally falling in.
“Did you get the material I left with your dad?” she asked.
“I’ve already watched the DVD several times. I wish it was more definitive.” He turned to face her. She was unable to read his expression. “Good night, Melina.”
Her throat closed. The way her porch light spilled onto him took her back to all the times they’d kissed good-night by her front door. She hadn’t known disappointment then—or loss. She’d come to hate him since then for that.
And yet she wanted to haul him upstairs and make love with him.
She’d heard it said that there was a fine line between love and hate. Walking that tightrope between those two emotions was too risky, especially without a net.
“Good night,” she said, then shut the door, burdened with doubt that she could work with him, but knowing she had no choice.
For Elliot’s sake she had to put her personal feelings aside for now.
For her sake she needed to lock those feelings away forever.
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