32. Elizabeth
Thirty-Two
Elizabeth
It takes me hours to convince Jake that he is not going to have to go live in a treatment center.
I explain that there isn’t even such a thing for teenagers with his specific abilities.
“Jake, you’re thriving in school. You’re in all honors classes and competing in chess and you’re about to graduate advanced social skills at the center. ”
“Oh, Jake, honey that was just angry talk.”
“Fucking is mating, isn’t it?”
“Sweetie, you really need to stop referring to mating. It’s just not a word you should use with humans. That’s a rule for you to write down in your book, okay?”
He nods, but continues. “But are you fucking with Kellen? You’re not expecting a baby. You said your body can’t gestate anymore babies.”
I close my eyes and swallow. “Kellen and I are friends,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes. “And Kellen and I…were…I’m interested in kissing Kellen and being affectionate with him.”
“He’s very nice,” Jake says.
“That is accurate,” I tell him, adopting one of his favorite phrases. “And I’m very glad you have him as a friend. Especially for the homework help.”
“He was nice today. When Dad was yelling.”
I nod. “That’s very true, babe.”
Jake seems to settle finally and, since we missed Star Wars night, I let him watch it on his laptop in bed.
I make my way to the kitchen, wishing I had alcohol in the house. I consider asking Lisa to drive over with a bottle for me. I consider walking across the street and begging Kellen for some of his whiskey, but I’ve lost the right to ask him those sorts of favors.
He wants a level of intimacy from me that I can’t offer. He wants me to keep him in the loop, to help me with this whole mess. I can’t be his project. How can I focus on anything else at all when I’ve got to protect Jake? It was fun to feel distracted for a bit with Kellen.
I let myself think for a minute that we could move from distraction to something real.
But I don’t get to let my guard down and enjoy a relationship.
This is what I’ve got right now. I sit at the table and start a long email to Erin.
When I hit send, I head to my bedroom and fall into a fitful, dreamless sleep.
Saturday evening, Jake and I have to prepare for his social skills celebration.
Jake and Dhruv attend a lot of classes at the family center north of the city.
Autistic teens work on all sorts of skills, like compromise and reciprocal conversations.
This quarter, they’ve focused on strategies to calm down when faced with something unexpected.
“I’ve decided what example of success I will share when it’s my turn to talk,” Jake tells me. The program includes each member sharing a story, which is also meant to inspire the incoming class of teens who generally assume their challenges are insurmountable.
“Which success is that, babe?” I assume Jake’s going to talk about the chess tournament, where he was doing poorly and accepted his loss with grace.
“I made a new friend,” Jake says, shrugging. I nod, conceding that this is indeed a big victory. New people come with new and unfamiliar expectations. I assume Jake is referencing someone from high school, since he’s talked so much about his new video game companions.
We pull into the lot and start to walk toward the building when I see Kellen Brady standing there with his hands in his pockets. “You came!” Jake jumps up on the curb and approaches Kellen, beaming.
“Couldn’t turn down such a dazzling invitation,” Kellen says. I’m so stunned to see him here that I freeze. I stand in silence, just starting at Kellen as Jake starts bouncing impatiently.
“Mom,” he says. “We are not going to get a desirable seat.”
“Why don’t you go in and save us three,” Kellen suggests, dropping a hand briefly on Jake’s shoulder. Jake frowns.
“Is saving seats fair? Does that violate a social custom?”
“We’ll be right behind you,” I say, gesturing with my head.
Jake nods and goes inside, grabbing programs from the table and making a beeline for the common room.
All the chairs will be placed in a circle around the room so everyone can see everyone else.
There’s only five teens in the group, but Jake has ideas about the most desired seat in the circle. Who am I to argue?
“Jake texted me to invite me,” Kellen says, hands in his pockets, looking awkward. “You said I’d always be welcome if Jake wanted to include me…”
I nod, quickly. “I…just didn’t know he’d done that.” So much is unsaid between us and I’m still rattled by the argument from the other night. “I don’t know what to say, Kellen.”
He breathes out of his nose and leans on the building. “What if you don’t need to say anything just now,” he suggests. “What if I just sit beside you and you know I’m here for you when you’re ready?”
I feel a lump in my throat again and start to wonder if eventually I’ll choke on all these big emotions that have been surfacing for me lately. “But why, Kellen? Why are you here?”
He grins. “I can’t stay away, Beth,” he says. “I feel more myself when I’m with you.”
I feel a flush spread over my body, a warmth I can’t identify. I feel the same, safer with him, like things make sense. “I don’t want to be a special project for you, Kellen,” I tell him, swallowing down the lump.
He shakes his head. “You’re not a project, Beth.
You’re my inspiration.” He reaches for my leg, his fingers tracing the spot where my ivy tattoo marks my thigh.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about that ivy, how ivy can indeed spread and thrive on the ground.
But you know what? If it wants to climb, it needs a trellis. It needs support.”
I feel a tear sneak out and I roll my eyes at how often I’ve been crying this week. “God, that’s a nice metaphor, Kellen.” I huff out a laugh.
“You’re sure it’s not a euphemism?” He hooks his mouth into a grin and reaches for my hand. “Come on,” he says. “Show me what this place is all about.”
We head inside and find Jake spread eagle, his hands and legs blocking off a chair on either side of him. Kellen and I sit, flanking him, and Kellen wraps a long arm around the back of the chair, cradling both Jake and I in his safe embrace.
The group facilitator reviews the kids’ achievements over the past few months, talking about how hard it can be for autistic teens to face the unexpected and carry on when so much around them does not make sense. “But these guys did it,” she says, “And you’re about to hear their takeaways.”
The teens share their victories, describing brave forays into sports tryouts and after-school job interviews.
When it’s Jake’s turn to talk, he stands and describes his move to a new neighborhood and a new school.
“And that’s where I made a new friend,” he says, gesturing to Kellen.
I listen to my son describe what it meant for him to meet someone who helps him problem solve.
“He helps with homework and knows what to do when my plans get canceled,” Jake shares.
“And even though my mother is not engaging in sexual intercourse with him, he still shows up when it’s important. ”
My jaw drops and I hide my face behind my hands.
I feel Kellen adjust in his chair, clearing his throat.
“Thank you, Jake,” Miss Amy says when Jake finishes speaking.
“We’re all so glad you formed a new friendship this fall.
” She starts to lead a round of applause and I feel the chair shake as my son sits back down.
“Thank you for attending tonight, Kellen,” Jake says as he sits.
“You bet,” Kellen tells him, and I see his jaw set as he tries to maintain control without laughing.
The ceremony ends and the teens disappear to play air hockey in the lounge, leaving the parents to swarm over to me.
A collective laugh bursts from everyone in the room as they all seem to say “intercourse,” together at once.
Miss Amy places a hand on my shoulder and assures me they’ll discuss healthy sexual relationships in the winter session.
“He’ll be here for it,” Kellen says, and then turns toward me. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That’s not for me to determine.”
“Oh, he’ll be here,” I say. “Not sure if I’ll be able to show my face here again, but Jake will be here.”
“Aw, come on,” Amy says. She winks at Kellen. “There’s not a person here tonight who isn’t rooting for you to change your mind and mate with this fox.”
I wish the earth would open up and swallow me, and I’m relieved when the other parents leave us alone to go grab cookies and lemonade. “So,” Kellen says, brushing my hair back from my forehead. I feel a trail of sparks behind his touch.
“So,” I say. I sigh. “This is all really new for me.” He nods. “It really matters to me that you showed up tonight. And the other afternoon. You weren’t meddling.”
“I’m here, Beth. I’m here for you and Jake.”
“I feel like I don’t have anything to offer you,” I tell him, voicing my fear, realizing as I say it how true it is.
He shakes his head. “How about you just offer yourself,” Kellen says, and leans forward to press a kiss against my forehead.
His lips feel so safe, so soft, so loving.
“God that feels good,” I blurt, closing my eyes and leaning against his chest. He tilts my head back and kisses my lips, his tongue sweeping between mine.
It feels familiar and exciting and I moan, returning his kiss, pressing my fingers against his chest until I feel his heart racing, just like mine.
My phone starts to ring in my pocket and I groan as reality sets back in. I can’t give Kellen myself. “Answer it,” he says, reaching for my pocket. “I can wait.”
I look into his eyes and see that he means it, that he’s willing to stand by while I address whatever crisis awaits me on the other end of the line. He nods. I bring the phone to my ear. It’s Erin.
“You’re going to be so excited,” she tells me. “Our hearing is first thing Monday. And we got the judge I’m excited about.”
“Monday?”
“Yes, and this is great news, I promise.” Erin tells me to be at the court building by 8 on Monday and I chew on my lip while she talks. Kellen massages my shoulders, and I lean into his touch.
“This could all be over in a few days,” I tell him.
He grins at me. “It’s going to be a relief,” he says, giving my shoulders another squeeze. “I can feel it.” He helps me round up Jake and kisses me goodnight while Jake groans from the passenger seat.
“Thanks again for including me tonight, J,” he says, leaning in across me to shake Jake’s hand.
“Just stop kissing my mom in public,” he says, rolling his eyes.