Chapter 21 Celine
Celine
My hands shook as I pulled Maggie’s hair back into a messy ponytail.
By the time I’d wound the hair tie around it three times, pieces were already trying to escape.
It was windier than I’d anticipated, the chilly air snapping at our coats and scarves.
It was that deceptive kind of cold that went far deeper than the weather in fall ever should.
Chloe had sent Gus in search of hot chocolate, and the rest of us watched as massive pumpkin boats of every size and shape were lowered into the water and tied to a long line strung across the river like a festive clothesline.
Some were painted like pirate ships, others sporting googly eyes and costumes.
The water was slow and shallow, but I was still doing what I did best. Worrying. Going through mental safety checks, watching and calculating and studying Julian’s body language.
He was calm.
Alarmingly calm.
It didn’t add up. If history were to be trusted, this experience would conclude with complete sensory overload.
It was cold and windy and noisy, with far too many visual distractions and an occasional strange smell.
Not to mention the risk of getting wet. Normally this kind of thing would send us home overstimulated and exhausted before it even really got started.
Instead of struggling, my son was studying the other pumpkin boats and giving me a confident thumbs-up every few minutes.
I wanted to trust it. But I couldn’t help but wait for him to melt down. Trying new things was virtually impossible for him. Novel experiences terrified him and never turned out well.
But we were here. And he was holding up better than I was.
Crowds lined the riverbank, and the people prepared with cowbells and homemade signs. The family race was first, kids of all ages with their parents, looking equal parts thrilled and unhinged.
“Remind me why this is a thing?” Chloe asked, shifting a sleepy Simone on her hip.
“It’s only one hundred yards long.” I pointed downriver to the inflatable finish line that had been set up. “And the fire department is here, ready to help if any of the boats capsize.”
“This seems like a lot of work for bragging rights.”
She wasn’t wrong. The engineering that went into hollowing out the pumpkin had gone beyond my comprehension. And the time and energy and heavy machinery required to make the pumpkins seaworthy for a few minutes seemed a little absurd.
“I think it’s the kind of thing that only works if you don’t think too hard about it,” Ellie said in her bored twelve-going-on-thirty-five drawl.
I snorted.
As ridiculous as all of this was, I couldn’t help but be excited. For Julian and for Josh, who despite the early hour and the cold looked happy to be here.
The man with us this morning was far removed from the grump we all knew. He kept fist bumping Julian and squatting down to chat. Gesturing in ways that made me think they were talking strategy.
As they lined up to begin, I panicked and darted for Julian so I could check his life jacket one more time.
“Everything okay, bud?”
He nodded, the movement making his helmet slip low on his forehead.
Josh, who’d donned waders, squatted next to him. “Remember how this is going to go?”
“First you get in. Then Jasper will pick me up and put me inside.” Julian said. “Then we hold onto the rope and float until it’s time to start.” He went through the checklist they’d reviewed.
“And then we paddle as fast as we can,” Josh added. “You sure you’re okay with that?”
“Yes. We’re gonna win.”
“We might win. We might not. But I want to make sure you feel comfortable and have fun. You can just watch if you want.”
My chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to jump in, overexplain, and tell Julian he should hold my hand and just watch from the sidelines.
But I held myself back, giving him this moment. If he ended up melting down, I was prepared for it.
Julian turned slowly, his little face hard. “I made this boat with you, and I’m gonna paddle it with you. We’re gonna win and then I’m gonna take the trophy to school to show everyone.”
“Good man.” Josh stood again, patting his helmeted head. “Ready to get in our boat?”
“Mama.” Julian spun, looking up at me. “Will you be at the end?”
“Yes. We’re going to walk to the finish line.” I pointed at the girls. “You okay with that?”
“Yup. Go, Mama. I want you to see me win.”
Forcing a smile, I took a step back.
I wrung my hands as Josh picked him up to carry him to the edge of the water. Holding my sixty-pound child like this only highlighted just how thick his arms were.
They were like the rest of him. Sturdy. Strong. Thick and manly. Capable. He could fix things and build things and probably wrestle a bear if necessary.
And the way his biceps flexed and the sleeves of his T-shirt clung to him made my heart thud heavily. Or maybe that was terror, because he was about to put my sweet boy in a fucking floating pumpkin.
He ducked, talking to Julian, then handed him to Jasper, who was volunteering. Then he pulled himself into the pumpkin.
Jasper helped Julian in, and my little guy slid in front of Josh, then the two of them grabbed their paddles. Julian was wide-eyed and focused, but there wasn’t an ounce of panic on his face. He wasn’t overwhelmed. He was alive.
Tears filled my eyes, making my vision blurry.
“Come on, Mom. We gotta go.” Maggie tugged on my arm.
The two of us jogged to catch up with Chloe and Ellie, who were headed to the viewing area by the finish line, but I turned back halfway there to check on Julian.
The massive man was shoved into a lumpy pumpkin, carefully protecting my overjoyed son whose smile was so big, it looked like he’d already won.
A buzzer sounded, and the pumpkins were cut loose, paddles flying and colorful gourds wobbling in the water.
One painted with black and white stripes capsized almost immediately, and the firefighters pulled its occupants out quickly.
The crowd was cheering, and Maggie, Ellie, and Simone were screaming “Jul-i-an. Jul-i-an” over and over.
Water splashed up around the pumpkin, making it hard to see his face, but they were paddling hard, Julian’s tiny arms to Josh’s huge ones, and they were moving pretty quickly.
I inched closer to the water’s edge, not caring if my sneakers got soaked. “Come on,” I shouted. “You can do it.”
Another boat capsized, and one near them wobbled, slowing them down. Within seconds, three boats had made it out of the fray and were ahead, and Josh and Julian were in control of one of them.
The first boat listed, then tipped, the adult paddling on one side making it worse.
It gave Josh and Julian the opportunity to pull ahead.
Ellie grabbed my hand and squeezed, screaming her lungs out for her brother, whose little face was soaking wet but smiling.
My heart soared at the expression. God, I was so damn proud of him.
“Go,” we called as Josh’s muscular arms powered them forward, so close to the finish.
Moments later, they were crossing the finish line in second place.
Josh immediately handed his paddle to a volunteer who’d approached to steady the pumpkin while the firefighters helped them out of their boats.
He scooped Julian up, the two of them blurry as tears filled my eyes and spilled over my lashes. It was a strange sensation, being so happy while also being this tired and overwhelmed.
As Josh waded out of the water, holding a cheering Julian in his arms, my emotions took over completely, and I ran to them, throwing my arms around them.
“You were both amazing,” I cried, barely feeling the freezing water seeping through my clothing. “I am so proud.”
Julian beamed. “We came in second.”
“I saw, and you worked so hard.”
He threw his arms around Josh’s neck and snuggled against him, a sight that almost made my heart burst.
This big, quiet, intimidating man had done so much for my little boy. He’d given him an opportunity to grow. One with clear rules and a defined goal. Then he’d been at his side, a trusted partner, the whole way. Rather than chaos, he’d created structure and adventure that allowed Julian to thrive.
Stepping back, I wiped at my tearstained cheeks.
Autism made Julian cautious, made him hide his talents away. But Josh had helped him find something new and build his confidence.
And Josh. He wasn’t performing or seeking recognition. He did it all to help my little boy feel a little less lonely and a little less afraid.
And in the process, he’d sparked to life the emotions I’d been avoiding for a long time.
Once the boys were dry and Julian assured me he wanted to stay at the festival, we spent the day playing games, eating junk food, and taking silly selfies all over town.
Ellie and Maggie took turns with Julian and Simone on the merry-go-round and Chloe bought us all matching maple-leaf-shaped lockets from the artisan jeweler.
Julian conked out the moment his head hit the pillow, and the girls begged to watch a movie, so once they were set up and I ensured that Ellie’s phone was plugged in, I slipped a hoodie over my head.
“I’m going to run down to the barn and help Josh clean up.
” When we rolled down the driveway tonight, all the lights in the big barn were on, and after he’d donated so much of his time and equipment, I felt guilty for not helping more.
I didn’t have a clue how I could help, but surely there were small tasks that didn’t involve heavy machinery that I could complete.
I owed him so much and didn’t have the words to adequately thank him, so I hoped I could show him by pitching in.
At the front door, I slipped into my fuzzy Crocs, then I headed out into the night.
Josh was dressed in a thick flannel, working inside the barn. The air was chilly and the smell of hay and earth blanketed the air. A single work light cast soft shadows to one side of the space where he was shelving items that looked like tools.