Ro burst out laughing. “Oh, I bet he did.”
I sighed. “You’re all depraved.”
Of course, that made them all laugh.
I settled on a sigh. “Which brings me back full circle. Your Christmas Cupid can go take aim somewhere else. I’m not looking. I’m just gonna live my very best asexual life with books and that cake you mentioned before. I don’t want to disappoint another man who says he’s okay with it but really isn’t. I just need my cute little bookstore in this cute little town with my cute little kittens.”
“And your cute little aunt,” Ro added.
“Yes. Maybe the Christmas Cupid will come for you,” I told her. “Maybe you’re the intended recipient this year! You just moved here, you’re single, and you’re queerer than me.”
She gasped, her hand to her heart. “It’s not a competition. The Kinsey Scale has a lot of colors. I’ve told you that all your life.”
“True,” I told Rob and Gunter. “She has.”
But then she shook her head and, reaching over, squeezed my hand. “And darling, while that sounds like a lot of fun, I’ve seen the way Deacon looks at you. That Christmas Cupid’s already taken aim and fired his little arrow.”
Rob and Gunter both grinned, and all I could do was sigh.
“Well, that’s a lie,” I said. “Because he doesn’t make eye contact. Although he hasn’t told me as such, I’ve known a lot of neurodivergent people in my life to recognize the tells. He’s looked me in the eye exactly twice in all the times we’ve met.”
“Yes, but when you’re not looking,” Ro said, “that’s when he looks at you.”
Oh.
I felt my cheeks burn.
“Oh.”
“Look,” Gunter said with a wince. “Just between us—and I can say this, Rob is a doctor and is bound by confidentiality, but I’m not—and this is no secret. It’s well known in this town, not that it’s a bad thing, just that it’s common knowledge. Deacon is autistic. Everyone knows it. He was born here, grew up here, and the townsfolk were proud that he went off to college to be a vet like his dad. The Clarks are real good people.” He made a face. “I don’t mean to be talking out of turn, and I mean no harm, but if you’re interested in him, maybe a heads up couldn’t hurt. You already said you assumed he was neurodivergent, so...” He finished with another wince and looked at Rob for some kind of confirmation?
Rob gave me a smile. “Neurodivergence and autism are two different things. All people with ASD, autism spectrum disorder, are neurodivergent but not all neurodivergent people are autistic. There are many differences. But,” he added, making a face, “what Gunter said is right. It is common knowledge here. That’s a small town for you though. Everybody knows everyone else’s business. So while I won’t say anything about this particular person specifically, what I can say, generally speaking, is this: if you do find yourself in a relationship with a person with ASD, any person, be it simply a friendship or something more, then clear communication is key. Don’t use sarcasm or innuendos, don’t assume he understands what you may think is a given. He will have different experiences and reactions, and most things will be achieved or encountered on his time, not yours.”
I nodded. “I understand all that, but you are right. Even as Deacon’s friend—and I do want his friendship; we have a great deal in common—some research on my behalf can’t hurt. Even just terminology. I’m assuming the vocabulary around ASD changes often, and I don’t want to upset him.”
Rob smiled at me. “I think you’ll do just fine.”
“He is incredibly smart,” I allowed. “When I first took the kittens to him, our conversation was... well, I don’t want to say awkward, but between his standoffishness and my tendency to overshare, it was a rollercoaster of a conversation, lemme tell you. But then when he was talking about the facts and all the medical stuff, he was very articulate.”
And now, looking back, I was surprised I didn’t click with autism earlier. I mean, at my last job at the bookstore, I dealt with a lot of eccentric and idiosyncratic folks on the regular. In fact, most of the staff were neurodivergent, or neurospicy as most of them called themselves. Did I clockthat Deacon had some idiosyncrasies or quirks? Sure. Did I want to assume anything?
No, I didn’t.
I thought it was just him.
It certainly didn’t bother me. Because before I’d been told he was autistic, I was thinking he was kinda great. And my opinion of him now hadn’t changed.
“I should talk to him,” I decided out loud.
“It might be best if you think he’s interested in you and you don’t want that,” Gunter said.
“Oh no,” I amended quickly. “I just meant that I should talk to him.”
They all stared at me.
It made me flustered. “About... stuff. And I should read up on ASD, and whatever...”
“Mm hmm,” Ro murmured sarcastically. “Still trying to convince yourself you don’t like him?”
