Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
My smile is wide as I head to the door, happy to hear Arthur’s knocks and excited for my parents to meet him. But when I open it, my smile immediately falls.
He stands on the other side with his head down, shoulders slumped, and his hands stuffed deep into the front pocket of his hoodie.
“I didn’t bring flowers,” he says quietly.
I glance over my shoulder towards the kitchen where I hear Beth humming away as she cooks, then step outside and quietly close the door behind me. “That's ok,” I say, watching him carefully as he keeps his head down, still not looking at me.
He shakes his head, and a frustrated breath escapes him. “No, it’s not.” His voice cracks, and he turns his head to look out at the fields, his face twisting slightly as he seems to fight with something inside. As his gaze lifts, I catch the redness in his eyes… like maybe he's been crying.
“Hey…” I say softly, stepping closer to him. “What’s wrong?”
Arthur just shakes his head again, and his eyes turn glassy. He doesn’t say anything as he stares at the trees like he's lost in them, trapped by something only he can see. Then, almost reluctantly, he turns his gaze towards me. “I just need you,” he says with a small and fragile voice, and my heart breaks a little at the vulnerability in those words.
I reach out and pull him into my arms. His body feels tense, like the day he came to the clinic to visit the bird after her pin was removed. It feels like he’s holding himself together by a thread, so I just hold him, letting him lean into me until, eventually, his arms wrap around me. His grip is hesitant at first, then grows tighter with a sense of need, and I kiss the side of his head and hope it can offer some comfort.
“Are you nervous?” I ask, trying to understand the storm of emotions that appear to be swirling inside him. But it feels like more than that, like this is more than anxiety about meeting my parents. He almost seems… defeated.
But he just nods against my shoulder.
“Anything else?” I ask carefully.
And he nods again.
I gently pull back to look at him, and his eyes stay fixed on the closed front door. “Your parents are here,” he says quietly.
It takes me a moment to realize what he means, that he thinks my parents are waiting on us.
“That’s okay,” I say. “They can wait.”
But his eyes widen, and he shakes his head as his breath comes quicker. “But I was supposed to be here at 5:30, and I didn’t get here until 5:36, and now I’m even later because I’m out here.”
I pause, wondering if this is really why he’s upset. Even though my parents and I didn’t notice, I know those six minutes are a lot for him. But now I’m also wondering why he was six minutes late. He’s always right on time .
“They don’t mind,” I say carefully, but Arthur just shakes his head again.
“We need to go in now,” he says, eyes locking on the door again as he takes a deep breath, like he’s working himself up to do this.
But he’s clearly not ready to do this.
“Arthur,” I say, a little more firmly, hoping to pull him out of whatever spiral he’s in.
But he still doesn’t look at me.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as his gaze shifts out over the fields again, and he gets lost in his thoughts for a moment. “I have plans,” he says eventually with a shaky voice. “And I don’t want to change my plans. But I keep getting phone calls and they won’t stop, and I need to be here for you. You’re always here for me, and I need to be strong, too. But I don’t want to change my plans, and I want to be here, and I just want to be normal and able to do things like everyone else can?—”
“Hey.” My brow furrows as I try to follow his scattered thoughts, but I feel like I’m missing some crucial piece of the puzzle.
But those words, I just want to be normal… they have no place here.
I shake my head, watching as his eyes fill with tears and he drops his head. I reach out, gently placing my fingers under his chin and lift it. He doesn’t need to look at me… but he needs to remember who he is.
“Head high, Firefox,” I remind him softly. “And there’s no such thing as normal.” I take his hand in mine and squeeze. “You’re extraordinary, and this world would be a lot dimmer if you weren’t you.”
He sniffs and looks down at his hand in mine, and his words rattle around in my brain as I try to make sense of what he’s talking about. He doesn’t want to change his plans… phone calls that won’t stop… he thinks he needs to be strong for me…
But I know this isn’t the time to get into it. He’s obviously distressed by whatever it is, and he seems like he just wants to focus on meeting my parents.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask.
He slowly lifts his eyes to meet mine, and the sadness in them makes my heart ache. But then he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, like he’s pushing all that pain down, and locking it away where we can’t reach it. And I wonder what else is buried in that dark place, and how long he’s been holding it all in. When his eyes finally open again, they’re emptier. His usual spark has been reduced to a flicker, and it feels like he’s a thousand miles away. But he nods.
And I hesitate. I’m not sure if this is the right call. He’s teetering on the edge of something, clearly forcing himself to do this, even if he does want to.
But from what I can piece together, he’s stressed about some plans changing, or possibly changing. And not going through with our plans tonight to meet my parents might send him over that edge. So, I’ll help him through it, keep the evening short and quiet, and do what I can to make him feel safe.
“Ok,” I say, lifting his hand and holding his pinky up. “Remember this?”
Arthur looks down at our hands and nods.
“Do this if you need help, ok?”
He nods again, and I give him a soft smile.
Well, here we go. I know this won’t be easy for him, but my parents are calm and understanding, and I told them he’ll likely be nervous.
I turn and push the door open, leading him inside. I keep a firm grip on his hand as we walk through my house towards the sounds of Beth and Dad’s voices drifting from the kitchen, and the smell of dinner fills the air.
As we enter the kitchen, Neville scurries over to us, immediately latching onto Arthur’s leg. Arthur looks down at him, and I swear I see a hint of a smile.
“Arthur, this is Beth, my stepmom, and Cody, my dad,” I say, gesturing between them.
Dad stands from the table, with a wide and welcoming smile, extending his hand towards Arthur. “Hi, Arthur, nice to meet you.”
Arthur looks down at Neville, then up at Dad’s hand, hesitating for a moment before he reaches out and shakes it. “You too,” he says quietly.
Beth chuckles softly as she chops vegetables for a salad, watching Neville hang onto Arthur like he never wants to let go. “Neville seems to like you, Arthur.”
His gaze darts towards her, then back down to Neville as he walks between his legs, and that little smile returns.
We may be ok after all.
“He certainly ruled over the dogs this weekend.” Dad laughs. “Two German Shepherds… you’d think they’d have a bit more bark in them.”
I chuckle, gesturing for Arthur to take a seat at the table. “Well, Neville may be small and mostly lazy, but he’s got a shit ton of spirit.”
Dad huffs another laugh. “You can say that again.”
Arthur silently takes the chair closest to the bird, and his attention immediately drifts to her. There’s a subtle shift in his posture when his eyes land on her, and the tension in his shoulders eases just a little. I step closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and squeezing his shoulders tightly. “I’m going to set the table,” I murmur to him. “You just stay here. ”
Arthur glances up at me, giving a brief nod before his gaze returns to the bird.
Beth looks up at him as I head to the cupboard to grab plates. “Arthur, I heard you got to see a very rare bird this weekend.”
I glance back at Arthur, as his eyes flick up to Beth. “A Steller’s Sea-Eagle,” he says, then his gaze darts quickly to me before settling on the bird again.
“I remember hearing about the last sighting years ago,” Dad says, nodding thoughtfully as he takes the plates from me while I head back to grab utensils. “Pretty neat that it’s back.”
“Arthur took some amazing photos,” I add, setting a handful of forks and knives on the table. I smile at Arthur. “I think my favourite is the one of its side profile.”
His eyes meet mine, and something flickers deep inside of him, like his spark is coming back to life.
“That’s amazing.” Dad looks at him. “How big was it?”
Arthur shifts in his seat, glancing at me again before looking down at the table. “An adult… probably around ten pounds.” He shifts again, quickly looking at my dad. “The plumage on its head… it shows it’s likely around seven years old.”
My brow furrows slightly as I watch him, the familiar excitement when he talks about birds, especially this bird, is faded beneath a heavy layer of unease. But it’s not like the sharp anxiety he feels when he’s overwhelmed. This is quieter, like he’s almost detached and disconnected… even from something he’s so passionate about.
Just as I’m about to step in and share more of the fascinating facts Arthur had told me, I hear my front door open.
“Dad?”
Shit.
My older sister Ingrid’s voice rings out from the hallway, echoing into the kitchen. Instantly, Arthur’s wide eyes fly to the doorway.
“I’m so sorry,” Ingrid says as she appears there, wincing as she glances around. “I just need to grab the car seat from Dad’s truck.” She looks at him apologetically. “We forgot to get it when you dropped Avery off earlier.”
“Oh, crap,” Dad mutters, standing up and reaching into his pocket for his keys. “I’ll go get it.”
But before he can move, the house is suddenly flooded with noise. Ingrid’s three kids come barrelling in, followed by her husband, Dylan.
“The kids just had to say hi to Neville before we left,” Dylan says with a sigh.
“Uncle Trevor, can I give Neville a treat?” Kyleigh asks, already halfway up the counter before I have a chance to respond.
Beth scoots over and quickly lifts her back down to the floor. “Wait for an answer first, Ky.”
“Uh…” I glance at Arthur, and my heart sinks. His body is tense, and his eyes are darting around the room, wide and frantic, like he’s searching for an escape route.
I quickly grab the bag of treats from the cupboard and thrust it at Kyleigh. “Here, go ahead.” I don’t care if they give him the whole bag, I just desperately need to keep things from spiralling out of control.
Arthur slowly rises from his seat, his eyes locked on the floor as the room around him becomes a flurry of noise and movement. The kids chatter away as they kneel to feed Neville treats, while Dylan asks Dad about the electrical work he did on my breaker panel this afternoon. Beth keeps a watchful eye on the kids, and Ingrid steps forward with a warm, welcoming smile.
“You must be Arthur,” she says gently .
But Arthur stands still as a statue as his eyes dart around the room. In less than a minute, chaos has unfolded. It’s something I never would have considered before, but now, I know how overwhelming this can be for someone who is sensitive to sensory input. All of this just came out of nowhere, and even my own head feels like it’s spinning. I tried to keep this as quiet and calm as possible… but with a large, close family… that’s hard to do.
I step towards him, watching as his hands tremble, and his whole body practically vibrates. He’s going to either shut down or explode.
“Arthur, do you want—” I start but he sidesteps me, shaking his head quickly.
Ingrid catches my eye, mouthing a quick, apologetic “sorry”. But before I can respond, Arthur moves.
“I have to go,” he says abruptly, his voice tight with barely contained panic.
Then he’s out the front door, and the kitchen falls silent.
Fuck.