As Tears Go By (7 page)

* * * *

That
afternoon, as Becca drove to Hunter’s school, she couldn’t stop thinking about
the things Braydon had said. She recalled the way he asked if he could touch
her, the way he announced his desire to please her. The entire experience took
on a different feel, now that she knew his past with Miranda.

Having
to make enough decisions for everyone in her little world, she definitely
didn’t want anything to do with a guy that needed a woman to decide for him.
But still…something didn’t add up. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t
imagine Braydon being ordered around. Asking was one thing. Manners were always
nice. But thinking of him behaving subserviently in any manner was absurd.
Maybe that was why he and his boss had broken up.

Once
buzzed in to the aftercare room she spotted Hunter at the computer, a set of
cushioned headphones covering his ears.

“Hi,
Becca,” Natalie, the after school aide, greeted.
Natalie was also an aide in the
resource room, so she was great for Hunter. The woman was familiar with her
son’s needs and often sat in on their IEP meetings.

“Hi,
Natalie. How was he today?”

“Good.
A little off in the morning, but he was fine by snack time. He actually did so
well sorting today he earned an extra ten minutes on the bike.”

A proud
smile crept to her face. Those slight victories were worth their weight in
gold.

Hunter
had various preferred activities. Above all, he loved music, especially The
Rolling Stones. But he also enjoyed other activities like riding the bikes in
the resource room at his school, piecing together model trains, and, his most
recent affinity, playing the piano.

The
bike was a special treat because it was a one-on-one activity. The teachers
shadowed him as he took the large bike with training wheels around a circle of
cones. Every time she observed him maintaining his balance it delighted her,
seeing him beam with unspoken excitement. It was amazing to witness his progress
considering his visual perception issues.

Strolling
to the computer she placed a hand on his right shoulder. He turned and offered
a wide smile. “Mom! Work’s over?”

She
removed the headphones so he’d realize he was shouting. “Work’s over. Did you
have a nice day?”

“I rode
the bike! Work’s over now. Natalie, work’s over now!”

Natalie
smiled. “Yup. Time to go home, bud.”

“
If
you start me up I never stop
,” Hunter said and laughed loudly. Becca
chuckled at his form of a joke. He frequently quoted lines in his best Mick
Jagger impersonation.

She
laughed and patted his shoulder. “You ready, bud?”

“
You
make a grown man cry
, Mom.” He laughed again. The return of his pleasant
mood filled her with calm and relieved some of her worry.

Natalie
came to their side with Hunter’s belongings. A few minutes later Becca was
buckling him into his seat in the van. They drove home, The Stones CD playing
along as Hunter hummed to the beat.

Part of
the reason Hunter loved The Stones was because Becca did, but he also liked the
fact that he and Mick were both born on June 26. Hunter emulated the musician
from his dance moves—which were sometimes amusing—to his preference of
instruments. Her son was—in her mind—a genius when it came to the piano, never
needing a single sheet of notes, but he also enjoyed the tambourine, the
harmonica, and the guitar, just like Jagger. The other instruments were
difficult for him, but for some reason the piano seemed to be an extension of
his soul.

When
they settled in for dinner, Hunter was still chatty. She’d take that over his
silence any day. Carrying over a plate of bacon, she slipped into her chair.
Breakfast for dinner was one of Hunter’s favorites and since Kevin left, she’d
started preparing it once a week.

Her
son’s motor skills had come a long way. His occupational therapist was great.
Though his motions were broad and his tidiness was not that of a typical
eight-year-old boy’s, he was now capable of feeding himself with a fork and
that made Becca’s life a bit more manageable.

Nibbling
her eggs, she laughed as Hunter folded and wedged half a pancake into his
mouth. “Fork, please,” she reminded.

“Sorry,”
he mumbled and chewed.

“Chew
first, then talk.”

Forcing
his lips closed as he chewed with exaggerated bites and laughed heartily. He
opened his mouth a minute later. “Gone.”

“Good.
I have a surprise for you.”

“What?”
Hunter lunged forward and rocked back.

“Aunt
Nikki’s taking us to the park this weekend.”

Hunter
clapped and rolled his head over his shoulders happily. “Tomorrow?”

“No.
Saturday.”

“Today’s
Tuesday.”

“Correct.”

Hunter
looked at the clock on the wall. “How many hours, Mom?”

“That’s
you’re department, bud.”

Glancing
back at the clock, he contorted his fingers as his eyes flinched.
“Seventy-seven hours until Saturday.”

She
didn’t know how he managed to do such fast math, but it had always been a gift.
Without needing to check, she said, “That’s right.”

“The
Rolling Stones played in Hyde Park on July sixth two thousand thirteen.”

“Is
that right?”

“Mmm.”

After
dinner she cleaned up the dishes. “Bring your plate over.” When he didn’t
acknowledge her words, she approached him and placed a hand on his right
shoulder, prompting him again. “Can you bring your plate over for me?”

Hunter
stood. His shoulders rotated as he jerkily walked his plate to the sink. Once
he dropped it in the basin, he went to his Velcro chart and moved the picture
of a place setting to the finished column.

“What’s
next, bud?”

He
hummed as he counted down each row of the chart. “Bath!”

Bath
time was always an experience. Becca was usually given her own shower by the
time it was through. “Why don’t you go listen to two songs on your iPod and
then we’ll take your bath?”

Hunter
happily obeyed, snatching up his iPod and carrying it to the living room. That
would keep him in a tranquil mood, but Becca was certain it wouldn’t last.

Five
minutes later, she was finished the dishes and filling the tub. She went to
find Hunter. “Ready, bud?”

He
appeared to see her, but made no move to acknowledge her presence. Becca placed
her hand on his shoulder. “It’s bath time.”

He
jerked away and rocked to his music. “Hunter, if you want to go to the park
this weekend we need to have a good week. It’s bath night. You can listen to
your music when you’re done.”

He
still didn’t relinquish the music. Sighing, she removed the device from his
hands and gently pulled out his earbuds.

“No!”

Becca
stepped back. “Hey. Don’t hit me.”

He
threw his back into the couch, his legs kicking out in protest like a pinwheel.

“Hunter,
you need to take a bath.”

He shouted
a moan as he kicked again, knocking his shoe off in the process.

“There
you go. Now take off the other one.”

He
twisted and grabbed the pillow, jamming it into his belly as he rolled,
pressing his face into the couch to scream. Becca went to turn off the water.
It was going to be one of those nights.

Hunter’s
screams carried through the house, regardless of how he shoved his face into
the leather of the couch. She stood back as he carried on. His hands curled and
twisted. He grabbed at his clothing and pulled. When his hand punched the side
of his head she intervened.

“Hunter,
do
not
hit.”

Face
flushing with frustration, he growled and screeched into the furniture. Becca
walked away, ignoring his outburst. She only intervened when Hunter was hurting
himself, others, or damaging property, but it wasn’t always easy to pretend
indifference to his tantrums.

Tough
love was an unfortunate part of maternal solicitude. Every struggle beat at her
heart.

She
laid out his pajamas and turned down his bed. Five minutes later Hunter was
motionless on the couch, breathing hard, but quietly staring out the window,
the side of his face now pressed into the cushion.

“Are
you ready now?”

He
didn’t show any signs of hearing her, but that didn’t necessarily mean he’d missed
what she’d said. Sometimes Hunter had so much going on in his mind, words were
a nuisance.

“If you
want to listen to another song before bed, you need to come into the bathroom
now.”

He
grimaced and stomped to the bathroom. Becca followed and turned on the faucet,
filling the tub the rest of the way. “Take off your clothes.”

He
peeled off his clothes, yanking hard as the collar twisted around his neck.
Becca waited until he was undressed. Patience was a virtue, rewarded by his
developing independence. “Get into the tub.”

Grudgingly,
he took her arm and stepped into the water, but refused to sit.

“We
need to finish in ten minutes or no more music tonight.”

He
screamed and Becca’s hands rushed to her ears as she winced. When the
blood-curdling outburst abruptly stopped she calmly asked, “Why are you
screaming?”

He
stomped his foot, kicking water onto the tile. Breathing hard through his teeth
he panted, each breath accompanied by a bleating cry. The intoxicating hum was
all part of his progression toward something he found insufferable.

The
water wasn’t too hot or too cold. It was simply a process for him to lower his
body into the tub. “It’s slimy.”

“I
know, but you’re dirty and need to get washed.” She patiently waited for him to
give up fighting the inevitable.

“Five
minutes,” she announced looking at her watch.

He
dropped to the water.
Go time.
Becca grabbed the loofa and squirted a
hefty amount of body wash on it. Boys were messy and her son was no different.

She
scrubbed his back, arms, neck, chest, and feet. Picking up his hand, which he
now held stiffly, she closed his fingers over the spongy ball. “Do your belly,
Hunter.”

Hand
over
hand,
she guided his motions as he washed the
rest of his body. He was getting older, and it was imperative he master the
task of bathing himself independently. It would be so much easier to simply do
everything for him, but that wouldn’t help Hunter’s development. Independence
was vital.

Scooping
up the plastic pitcher, she rinsed his shoulders. He screeched when she wet his
hair. “Eyes! Eyes! Eyes!”

She
quickly placed the hand towel she always kept at the ready into his twitching
fingers. “Almost done.”

He
wiped his brow and calmed.

“Find
the shampoo.”

Hunter
handed her the bottle. He had some tactile issues with slippery substances,
which was one of the reasons bath time was always so challenging.

“Open
your hand.”

Begrudgingly,
he held out his palm. She squirted shampoo in the center and he flung it off
and squealed.
 
She gripped his wrist and
added some more. “Put it in your hair, Hunter. We’re almost finished. I wonder
what song you’re going to listen to when you’re done.”

She
guided his hand to his hair and rubbed shampoo over his head until a lather
formed. “Head back,” she said as she proceeded to rinse out his hair.

Once he
was out of the tub and somewhat dry, she followed him to his room to help him
dress. “You did great, bud.”

He
immediately went to his dresser where she’d placed his iPod. Without saying a
word, he plugged in his earbuds and lay down on his bed.

Wiped,
Becca grabbed the comb and quietly brushed his hair. The only reason he
tolerated the gentle touch was because he’d likely exhausted himself bathing.
She savored the moments she could get close to him, as they didn’t come often.
By the end of the song he’d calmed.

By the
time he was asleep she was dead on her feet. She’d made her rounds, returning
all the task charts to their morning positions, cleaning up the pillows on the
floor of the living room, and shutting off the lights. As she checked the locks
at the front door she paused, a strange thought occurring.

She’d
always done this. Since Kevin left she’d assumed a heap of additional
responsibilities would be thrust on her shoulders, but the truth was, she’d
been doing this on her own since Hunter was young.

It was
hard, recalling how utterly inept Kevin was, and not letting her frustration
get the better of her. Their marriage was over, and as tired as she was, part
of her was glad it ended. It was better to depend on herself than to constantly
wind up disappointed in the person intended to help her, not to mention the
waste of energy, waiting and hoping for that aid. If only he’d shown more
interest in helping her, being present in their day-to-day family life, their
marriage might have survived and her family could have been whole.