Chapter 8
Milow
Today was a big day. I had waited a long time to see Ashby swim, and now it was finally happening.
I woke up early because I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I had wanted to hug Ashby and wish him good luck, but he was already gone.
Dad had taken him to the aquatic center first thing in the morning for warm-ups.
Mom, Wesley, and I ate breakfast together, and afterward, Mom helped me change into my swimsuit.
I had only worn it once when we bought it two weeks ago.
It made me feel athletic and ready to jump into the pool.
Mom said I needed to wait until the competition ended before I could get in.
Wesley wore his swim shorts too, and he promised to hold me where my feet couldn’t touch the bottom.
I kept thinking about that—my feet hanging in deep water.
I had only ever been in the bathtub, and that had always been safe.
The pool would be different, but I wasn’t scared.
I wanted to learn to swim. I wanted to feel what Ashby felt, because I knew swimming was so important to him.
But as excited as I was to get into the pool myself, I was more excited to see him swim.
Mom and Dad always talked about how strong and fast he was in the water.
I wanted to see it with my own eyes, and I just knew that he would win today.
When we reached the aquatic center, I looked around with wide eyes.
The pool stretched out in front of us, and the water looked endless.
There were long ropes dividing it into long paths, and I was fascinated with everything else in this place.
Immediately, I understood why Ashby felt so comfortable here.
I squeezed Mom’s hand to make her look down at me, then let go so I could sign.
[Will Ashby swim in here?]
Mom nodded and smiled. “He will.”
I stared across the water, then I signed again.
[The lanes are so long!]
“They are, huh,” she said, then pointed toward the bleachers. “We’ll go sit over there.”
We walked across the wet tiles. My bare feet slapped against them, and water sprayed from the other kids who ran past us.
Families filled the seats, and I looked at all the faces.
Some of them I had already seen around town before.
Mom said hi to a couple and waved to a woman further up the bleachers.
We sat close to the bottom row, right next to the water, and I leaned forward, peering into the blue.
My heart thudded in my chest with anticipation.
Mom placed her hand on my shoulder and pointed toward the entrance.
“Look, Milow. Stanley’s mom and dad are here.”
I followed her finger and saw the couple walking toward us. Dean had the same dark hair as Stan, and their faces were similar, making it clear they were father and son. Chelsea waved with both hands when she spotted us. When they reached our row, Mom stood and hugged them.
Chelsea crouched down so she could look at me at eye level. Her smile was big and bright.
“Hi, sweetie. How are you today?”
I had met the two before when they once came over for dinner at our place.
They were nice and even brought cake for dessert.
I liked Dean and Chelsea, but I still had trouble fully accepting Stan as my friend.
He could be too loud, and he liked to push every game into chaos.
Still, he always included me. He shared his toys and snacks, even if he yelled too much while doing it.
Ashby never seemed to mind, so I tried not to mind, either.
I smiled and raised my hands to sign.
[I’m okay.]
Chelsea watched carefully, making sure she understood. Then she nodded.
“That’s good. Are you excited to watch the boys swim?”
I nodded hard. My excitement was for Ashby. Stan would be in the water too, but I didn’t care as much about watching him swim. I liked him, even when he annoyed me sometimes. But it was different with Ashby. I wanted him to win. I wanted everyone to cheer for him.
As Chelsea and Mom sat down, I saw Dad walk over to us. I waved and waited for him to reach me, then let him pick me up. “Hey, sweetheart. Wow, look at you!” He poked my belly. “I like your swimsuit.”
[Thank you.]
Dad smiled and kissed my cheek, then put me back down to greet Mom and Wesley before he sat next to Dean.
The adults started talking about the race schedule and when the boys would be starting. Their voices blended with the noise of the pool. When Mom leaned closer to me, she pointed toward a smaller pool on the other side of the big one. Several kids stood at the edge while coaches talked to them.
“See Ashby?” Mom asked, “That’s where they warm up before the race.”
I scanned the crowd of swimmers, spotting his dark blue swim cap as he jogged toward the edge of the pool.
“There’s our boy,” Dad said proudly.
I watched as he jumped into the water, with the other kids following behind, and I held my breath as Ashby pushed off the wall and kicked hard.
His arms sliced through the water, and his legs kicked fast. He looked focused, and I tried to imagine swimming myself.
I wouldn’t be as good as him—or any of the kids. But I was willing to learn.
Ashby reached the other side and lifted his head. I leaned forward and raised my hand, waving again and again.
His head turned toward us, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure he would recognize us from there. But then he grinned and lifted one arm out of the water and waved back before the coach shouted something at him. He ducked into the water again and pushed off the wall.
I sat back and felt warmth spread in my belly as I kept my eyes on Ashby.
After a while, Wesley leaned closer to us, with his pale eyes on Mom and Dad.
“Can I get ice cream while we wait for the race to start?”
Dad pulled out his wallet without hesitation and handed Wesley a few bills. “Take Milow with you.”
I loved ice cream, especially on warm days like today. Wesley stood up and held out his hand. “Come on, Milow. Let’s get ice cream.”
I slipped mine into his palm, and he held my hand tightly as we stepped down the bleachers carefully. I watched the water shimmer as we passed, getting more and more excited to jump in.
The kiosk sat near the entrance, and a small line formed in front of it. A fan buzzed behind the counter, blowing the cool air toward us. There was a glass case filled with different-colored ice cream in tubs, and when it was our turn, I pressed both hands against the edge to peer inside.
Wesley leaned in beside me. “What flavor do you want?” He pointed at the tubs one by one. “They have chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, mint chip, and lemon.”
I stared hard at each color, trying to imagine how each tasted. I wished I could get all the flavors, but I wouldn’t be able to eat that much. Wesley waited patiently, giving me all the time I needed to make a choice I wouldn’t regret.
[Chocolate, please.]
Wesley nodded, then looked at the woman behind the counter. “Chocolate for my sister, and vanilla for me, please.”
He paid with the money Dad had given us.
When he handed me the cone, I held it carefully with one hand while taking Wesley’s hand with the other.
We walked back toward the bleachers. People moved around us carrying towels and inflatables, and I licked the ice cream so it wouldn’t drip.
Ahead of us, a girl stepped out from a group of kids.
She had long, red blonde hair in a braid and wore a purple swimsuit. She looked about Wesley’s age.
“Hi, Wesley,” she said, smiling shyly.
He froze and stopped, his face turning bright red. He straightened his posture a little and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Oh—hey, Evie,” he answered.
I stopped beside him, looking up with intent. I had never seen Wesley this flushed and nervous. He was usually cool and relaxed, but this girl seemed to change that about him. Wesley still held my hand, but his grip tightened.
Evie glanced down at me with a smile.
“Is this your sister?”
Wesley nodded quickly. “Yeah. This is Milow.”
Evie bent down a little so she could look at me better. “Nice to meet you, Milow.”
I smiled. She didn’t frown or scrunch her nose because I didn’t use my voice. She just kept smiling. “She’s cute.”
Wesley cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Uh, are you swimming today?”
Evie moved her gaze back to Wesley. “Yeah. Breaststroke. I’m a little nervous, but I know I can do it. You?”
Wesley shook his head and glanced away. “No. Just watching Ashby.”
“Oh.” She hesitated, then smiled again. “Well… maybe I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah,” Wesley said quickly. “Okay.”
She waved and walked off toward her group, and Wesley let out a slow breath through his nose, still holding my hand tighter than before. His face stayed red, and when he looked down at me, he tried to act normal.
I raised a brow at him, amused by the way he had reacted to Evie.
“Come on,” he whispered. “We should get back before the race starts.”
We continued walking toward our seats, and I kept watching Wesley’s face as he licked his ice cream, pretending nothing had happened.
Did he like Evie? Evie definitely liked him. I could see it in her eyes. It’s the same way I looked at Ashby, and Ashby looked at me the same, too. And we really liked each other a lot.
When we reached our seats, Iris smiled and said, “Hurry and sit. Ashby’s heat is up next.”
We squeezed in beside Mom and Dad, and I looked at the far end of the pool where swimmers lined up behind the blocks. I had almost finished my ice cream already as I listened to the voice coming through the speakers, calling out names one by one.
“On lane number four… Ashby Statler!”
Dad punched the air. “That’s my boy!” His voice boomed across the bleachers, and a few people chuckled.
Iris clapped. “Go Ashby!”
Wesley leaned forward, cupping his free hand around his mouth. “You got this, buddy!”
I wished I could’ve called out to him too. Sometimes I wished that in situations like these, the magic would give me back my voice. Just for a second, to cheer for Ashby. Instead, I just smiled brightly with my heart pounding hard in my chest.
The announcer continued.
“And on lane five we have Stanley Whitt!”
Chelsea and Dean stood and clapped loudly. “You can do this, Stan!” Dean called.
Stan climbed up on his block. His goggles hid his eyes, but I could tell he was scared and nervous.
Ashby looked over at his best friend and gave him a thumbs-up.
Stan tried to smile, but he just shrugged instead before shifting on the block nervously.
They were racing against each other, and Ashby still tried to make his friend comfortable by showing his support.
The swimmers crouched into a start position, and I held my breath, staring at Ashby’s frame bent forward, toes curled over the edge.
A loud horn blasted, and they all dove in headfirst. Well, all but Stan, who jumped in feet-first.
Water splashed high, and Ashby shot forward with smooth, strong strokes. He was in the lead, while Stan kicked hard but wobbled off rhythm.
Everybody was cheering them on, and I forgot about my ice cream as Ashby came closer to the other end of the pool. My eyes followed him, then drifted to Stan for just a moment. He fell behind quickly, his head jerking up for breath every few strokes.
“Maybe we let him take up karate like he asked,” Dean muttered. “Swimming isn’t for everyone.”
Chelsea sighed but nodded, eyes worried as Stan splashed toward the halfway mark.
I felt a sting in my chest as I watched Stan struggle. He looked helpless in the water, but I knew he hadn’t been forced to swim. I bet his parents just wanted him to try everything once, just like Mom and Dad had let the boys try everything before Ashby chose swimming and Wesley ice hockey.
Ashby glided ahead, reaching the wall first in what seemed like no time. Dad stood up, cheering loudly.
Stan touched the wall long after the others, lifting his head and gasping. He was coughing and looked exhausted, but Chelsea clapped anyway, her voice trembling but proud. “Good job, Stan! Proud of you!”
My eyes went back to Ashby. He got out of the pool and pulled off his goggles and cap, and after getting a high five and a hug from his coach, he turned toward the bleachers.
We all waved, and he jogged around the pool with water dripping from his hair and shoulders.
His grin never faded. When he reached us, Dad grabbed him into a tight hug and ruffled his hair.
Iris kissed his cheek, and Wesley slapped his back.
“You’re a champ,” Wesley told him proudly. “You were insanely fast.”
“We’re proud of you, kiddo,” Dad added.
Ashby thanked them, and when Dad put him back down, he looked at me.
His arms wrapped around me, lifting my feet from the ground.
Cold water soaked into my swimsuit, but I didn’t care.
I clung to him, holding on tight. He pulled back just enough to look at my face.
He was still breathing fast from the race, and his eyes shone with pride.
“I won because you were here,” he said, his voice filled with certainty. “I saw you, and it made me swim faster.”
I wasn’t so sure if that was true, but I liked to believe it. My chest tightened the way it always did when he said or did something so sweet. I smiled and pressed my forehead against his shoulder, wishing more than anything I could tell him with words how happy I was.
“All right, kids,” Mom said, smiling down at us. “We’ll set up the towels over there on the grass, and you can go play in the pool.”
I had been so excited for Ashby that I had forgotten about getting to go into the pool for the first time. For the rest of the afternoon, Ashby and Wesley stayed close to me in the shallow water, showing me how to kick and move my arms while they kept their hands under me so I wouldn’t sink.