The Summer I Saved You (The Summer #2)(28)

The head of school says she wants us to get Henry evaluated for learning disabilities. I can’t find anyone to do it until late August.





JEREMY

Gee, you decide you want to break up the family and work full time and Henry starts having problems. Who could have predicted that?



I’m almost too numb right now for it to bother me. Almost. But if I hadn’t left, would Henry be keeping up better than he is? Could this all have flown under the radar?

I rise from the couch to change clothes and splash cold water on my face. Though I’m still spent and want to sleep for a hundred hours, I can hold it together a bit longer. What Caleb said was right: nothing has changed. Who Henry is remains the same. I already suspected he would struggle, that he wouldn’t make friends as effortlessly as Sophie and wouldn’t have the same life she would. No matter what the tests find, he’ll always have me and he’ll always have his sister, and he’s the same kid who left our home this morning.

I cross the yard and tap lightly on the door before entering Caleb’s house for the first time—though it barely qualifies as a home at present. Half the drywall is down, and the other half is water-stained beyond recognition. Why on earth did he take this on? He already works the equivalent of two full-time jobs, and this equals a third.

Then I notice the twins. “Do you have my six-year-olds stacking drywall?”

“I’m paying them,” he argues. “They love it. Although your daughter talked me into an hourly rate which is, frankly, exorbitant.”

The doorbell rings. “That’s the pizza,” he says. “Do you mind grabbing drinks from the basement?”

I nod and head downstairs, expecting another demolished room. Instead, it’s so crammed he couldn’t fix it up if he wanted to. Boxes and furniture are stacked high on every wall. And a whole section is labeled Kate. Kate-books, Kate-closet, Kate-bathroom. This girl left her whole life behind, and Caleb’s spent the better part of a year simply hoping she’d reclaim it.

I move toward the fridge but then stop and look at her belongings again. At the crisp white frame leaning against the wall behind the boxes.

It’s a crib. A new crib. I step closer and spy a rocking chair beside it and a folded-up changing table just to the left.

He and Kate bought these things. And they’re nothing you’d buy unless you were really certain you’d need them.

Kate’s drug addiction, the personal stuff Kayleigh alluded to...did it all begin here, with a crib and chair and changing table Caleb now has no intention of using? I grab drinks and climb the stairs slowly, wondering how I can ask. Wondering if he’ll tell me the truth.

Upstairs, Caleb’s grabbing paper plates and napkins. “I’ve only got two chairs,” he says. “So should we sit outside?”

It’s probably for the best: if we were all around his table, it would feel a lot like playing family.

Which is something it seems he might have wanted, once upon a time.

“Sure.” My voice is slightly too cheerful, but he doesn’t notice.

We get down to the beach and the twins take their paper plates to the shore while Caleb and I sit in the Adirondack chairs. When he’s been down here with us before, watching the kids’ antics…did it hurt? Have I been rubbing something in his face I didn’t even think he wanted?

Sophie comes up to him and starts speaking gibberish. “Oooh, blah, blah, la, la, oh lay.”

He raises a brow, waiting for her to explain, his mouth softening.

“That was French,” she announces.

He grins. “Y.A.I.E.”

He’s playing the code game with her. I melt, but she frowns at him.

“That’s too hard,” she says, placing her hands on her hips.

“It stood for ‘your accent is exquisite.’”

Her mouth curves upward as she returns to her pizza.

All his bullshit about children being a pain in the ass—is it really what he thinks, or is it simply easier than admitting they were something he once wanted but didn’t receive?

He reaches for another slice. “You’ve gotten very quiet.”

I force a smile. “It’s been a long day.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.”

“There are worse things. At least I’m not alone while locked in your attic.”

“Are you still on that? You know I wouldn’t have gotten around to soundproofing the room. You’d have heard her screaming by now.”

I laugh and then fall silent. I want to ask him about the crib. I want to know if, once upon a time, he did want kids. Except I can’t think of a single way to broach these topics without potentially causing him pain.

After another long moment of silence, he sighs heavily. “You saw the crib, didn’t you? I forgot all about it until you were halfway down the stairs.”

I turn toward him. “I did. It’s none of my business. I was just surprised.”

He swallows. “Kate and I had a daughter. Hannah. She only lived for a few minutes.”

My stomach sinks like a stone. The day they handed me my twins was the happiest of my entire life, the one I’d spent nine months building toward. I can’t imagine reaching that point and having them taken from me. I can’t.