The Summer I Saved You (The Summer #2)(82)

“Here goes nothing,” I say to myself, watching Caleb paddle him out to the break.

Sophie goes whizzing past them, sure-footed and proud of herself, yet another thing that’s come naturally to her. It could easily set Henry off, but Caleb simply pulls the board away from Liam and Harrison so that Henry won’t be discouraged by his sister’s success.

Once they’re in position, Caleb waits for a small wave and pushes the board, but Henry lies flat, making no effort whatsoever to stand. Through the next few waves, he progresses to his forearms, then his knees and my breath holds, waiting for the moment he’ll get discouraged and quit, waiting for Caleb to grow impatient—because even I’d be growing impatient by now.

On his fifth wave, Henry stands. It lasts only a second, but Caleb is thrilled.

“Hell yeah!” he cheers, as ecstatic as the father of an Olympic medal winner.

On his sixth wave, Henry gets up and stays up. His balance is shaky—he doesn’t make it look easy, the way Sophie does. And it doesn’t matter in the least.

“Mommy! Caleb!” he shouts. “Look at me!”

He’s smiling as he goes over the side.

My eyes cloud with happy tears, and even from this distance, I can tell Caleb’s have too.





EPILOGUE


CALEB


We meet with the developmental pediatrician, Dr. Stein, just before the new school year begins. He brings us back while Henry plays in the waiting room—Jeremy hasn’t shown up, of course.

Lucie squeezes my hand as we follow him to his office, and I thank God I came. Life at work is a lot calmer than it was, but it’s still not calm: Caldwell was furious about my failure to show up in Hawaii, and even more furious when I told him I couldn’t move to New York. We’re back to square one, but I’ve hired someone to find us investors and promoted Mark to Chief Operations Officer. His first job as COO was to fire Kayleigh after I caught her telling Lucie off, which had apparently become a routine occurrence.

I don’t always work nine-to-five, and it was tempting to stay at the office today when Lucie assured me she’d be fine.

I came in case she needed me, and it’s pretty clear she does.

We sit together on a couch while Dr. Stein discusses Henry’s evaluation. Nothing he says is a surprise: Henry is smart as hell and a very nice kid. He’s also on the autism spectrum.

Lucie’s fingers twine with mine and squeeze tight.

“I know that’s not what any parent wants to hear—” the doctor begins, and she cuts him off.

“Henry’s exactly who he’s meant to be,” she says, though her eyes are bright, “and he’s exactly the son I want. We’re going to be fine.”

We leave the appointment with Henry between us, each of us holding a hand. She glances at her watch. “Do we have time to go to lunch before you head back to the office?” she asks.

Henry glances up, waiting for my answer.

“Why don’t we all just take the day off?” I ask, and for the first time since we entered Dr. Stein’s office, he smiles.

She was right. He’s going to be fine. We all are.



ON A KID-FREE SUNDAY A MONTH LATER, Lucie and I leave Liam at the lake house to work on renovations—I wanted to do them myself originally to prove I was a different man than my father, but part of being a different man is not wasting time that could be spent with Lucie and the kids—and I take her to look at a place down at the busier end of the lake.

It’s a new build, twice the size of my house. Lucie’s eyes are wide when we walk in, and just keep getting wider. It’s not quite the house we rented over the Fourth of July, but it’s a hell of a step up from any place either of us have lived before, with six bedrooms upstairs.

We tour every floor and then leave the agent inside while we walk onto the screened porch overlooking the lake. At the house next door, a little boy is playing alone in the backyard, building an elaborate structure out of sticks. Already, I can see the friend we both want for Henry. And the future we both want, I hope.

“Wow,” she says quietly. “This house is something else.”

I swallow. “Yeah? So you might want to live here?”

She turns toward me. “Hypothetically?”

I pull her hands into mine. “No. Not hypothetically. With me. You and the kids.”

She exhales. “It’s a big step.”

I’d hoped for slightly more enthusiasm. We haven’t discussed it yet, but I can already picture the day when we might add a kid or two to the ones we already have. I assumed that’s what she wanted too.

I tug on her hands. “What is it that you’re thinking but don’t want to say?”

She stares at the floor between us. “I feel weird discussing it.”

“Is it dirty?” I ask. “You can whisper it in my ear.”

She laughs. “No, pervert. It’s not dirty. It’s just…I don’t know. It might be a bigger step than I’m ready to make.”

“Okay,” I say, struggling to master my disappointment. “Is it too soon? Or is it something you don’t think you’ll even want to do eventually?”

“Neither one,” she says hastily, squeezing my hand. “I’m just not sure about the twins. Not everyone’s as liberal as we are. So, on the one hand, I don’t really care how it looks, but on the other, I’m worried about what kids will say to them and—”