It was our turn to order, so I went with the tangerine one.Then I turned to my kid.
Siobhan, behind the counter, lifted her brows a little, waiting.There wasn’t a massive line behind us, but there were a few people waiting.One of Sam’s anxiety “quirks” was her inability to make a decision.She was incredibly indecisive, then would overthink her decision and ultimately, regret it.Which would lead to more anxiety.It was a vicious circle.Rarely would she try anything new either.She was a creature of habit and routine—something I was fine with—but would then sulk when people raved over something new that she couldn’t bring herself to try.
“What’ll you have, hun?”Siobhan asked.
“Uh … uh …” Sam said, shifting back and forth on her Converse sneakers and wringing her hands in front of her.“Um …”
Someone behind us huffed impatiently.
I gritted my teeth.
Sam glanced at me.“I don’t know,” she whined.
Resting my hand on her shoulder, I applied a bit of pressure.“You love apples, so how about the apple, cinnamon, and vanilla?”
“That’s a really popular one right now,” Siobhan said.
Sam shrugged.“I don’t know …”
“Watermelon-mintandthe apple-cinnamon,” I finally said to Siobhan, feeling the eyes of the people behind us on the back of my head.I picked Sam’s favorite and the new one.If she didn’t like the apple, I’d drink it.
Siobhan nodded, obviously grateful that a decision had been made.Then she got to work grabbing our order.
We stepped to the side to wait, my daughter’s shoulders rounder than ever.“You’re not the only kid like this, you know.I happen to know Emme McEvoy is incredibly indecisive as well.And an overthinker.One time, Justine bought every flavor of kombucha for Emme so that Emme wouldn’t have to decide.But I don’t have that kind of money, kiddo.And life is full of making decisions.Sometimes big ones, sometimes small ones.But we make hundreds of choices a day.It’s part of life.”
Siobhan placed our bottles on the counter.I tapped my card, and then the next customer stepped up as we carried our booch over to one of the free benches in the picnic area.
“I know,” she muttered, unscrewing the top off her bottle as we sat down.“I just …”
“It’s fine.It’s just something you need to work on with Stephanie.”
Stephanie was Sam’s telehealth child psychologist.Right now, they met on video twice a month, but Stephanie had a cancellation list as well, which is how we were able to snag Sam an appointment for tomorrow.
“He’s just so mean,” she said after a few sips.“I’ve never done anything to him.And he’s just so, so mean.And not just to me.But it feels like heenjoysbeing mean to me.”She shook her head and glanced up at the cloudless sky.Bright green leaves, barely unfurled for the spring, rustled gently in the trees overhead as the wind zipped through them.Blinking a few times, she sniffed and swallowed hard, doing her best to steel her emotions since we were in public.
I rested my hand on her thigh as we sat side by side.“You know he’s not doing this bullshit because he likes you, right?”
She glanced over at me.“What do you mean?”
“Don’t let anybody tell you that Clyde is being mean to you because he has a crush on you.That’s what they used to tell us, and it’s total crap.He’s being mean because he is a soulless demon and needs to be sent back to the depths of Hell whence he came.”
She snorted, and a ghost of a smile graced my beautiful daughter’s face.“I still can’t believe I just started screaming at him.”
My lips twitched to hide my smile.“I bet he nearly crapped his pants in fear.He probably thought you’d totally lost your mind and were going to beat the daylights out of him.”I kind of wish she had.
“I don’t even remember doing it.My brain kind of … went into outer space or something.”
I simply nodded.“It happens.It’s a protection mechanism our brains do sometimes.”
Leaning into her until our foreheads rested against each other, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.“For our own peace of mind, let’s pretend that Clyde actuallydidcrap his pants, and he’s going through the rest of the day smelling like a dirty diaper and there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.”
Her giggle lightened the heaviness of my heart.
While she felt better now, a chat and a kombucha were far from a solution.At the moment, they were no more than a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.And Clyde Whalley seemed like a bullet dipped in poison.Poison, I was determined to find the antidote to.Even if it killed me.
At ten minutes to eight, the parking lot of the San Camanez Island Community Center was full of vehicles.Raina rode with Jagger since she and Marco were staying at his house.So Gabrielle, Naomi, and I drove together.The other four McEvoy brothers rode together in one truck, and the distillery dads came together in two separate trucks.
That left the women who owned the cidery, who showed up in one big minivan.Four out of the five of them piled out of the vehicle.
