"I'm Birdie's mom!"
I smile instantly.
Birdie Buchanan, the adorable girl I met last month at Liam's first basketball game. I should have known; she looks so much like her mother.
Same honey colored hair, same freckles, same soft smile, especially when she was speaking with my son. The dopey smile on my son's face said it all.
He was right that Birdie can't really hold eye contact, but she wassosweet and soft-spoken when a beaming Liam introduced us. She smiled and took a deep breath, like she was gathering bravery, before holding her hand out for me to shake.
Birdie sat next to me through the game, completely enraptured. She wore pink noise-canceling headphones over her ears because of the scoreboard buzzer, though she still flinched every time it sounded.
She didn't speak to me much, but answered any question I asked her when she took off the headphones at halftime. I learned that her birthday is in September. It's just her and her mom. They moved from Washington. She loves watching basketball and likes to shoot hoops, but doesn't like playing it.
After the game, when I asked her if she needed a ride home, she politely declined, saying her mother would pick her up. Istepped back to give her and Liam some privacy while they said goodbye.
That silly smile on his face stayed on my son’s face all night, especially since he had a triple-double, which Birdie complimented him on.
"Oh, it's so nice to meet you! I met Birdie at Liam's basketball game. She's such a sweetheart."
"Thank you," Bonnie’s smile widens and her voice sounds almost relieved. "I'm so glad she's making friends. She just can't stop talking about Liam."
"Well, the feeling is very mutual. I feel like every other word out of his mouth nowadays isBirdie.I just love her name, by the way."
"Thank you. She was born Bridgette, but my Nana always called her Birdie. Now she only responds to Birdie."
"Well, it's adorable."
"I know Birdie is invited to Liam's birthday party, so I was planning on talking to you there, but I just... I wanted to thank you. I just about fell out of my chair when Birdie said she wanted to go to the game on Friday to watch her friends play."
"Oh..." I say, my heart aching as I remember our conversation at the diner.
"Birdie has trouble making friends sometimes. She has autism, and most people don't understand it. Or don't even try to, really. Her experience at her last school was..." she trails off, shaking her head with a distant but pained look on her face. "But Liam and his friends have been... so wonderful for her. So, thank you for raising a really great kid."
I smile, but the words she says next make it drop slightly.
"You and your husband must be so proud."
Oh, Atlas... I wish you could hear this.
I wish I could tell you this.
I wish you knew how much your son is just like you.
"We are," I murmur with a smile on my face.
Chapter Nineteen
Atlas
November
"It's important to remember that healing is not linear, and there isn't a timeline."
That's one of the first things Dr. Wilson says to me after I sit down on this couch.
He sits across from me, dressed in jeans and a Sentinels Basketball hoodie, sneakers on his feet. He's about my dad's age, maybe a little younger, and despite his large size and his stony expression, he's disarming. There's a warmth radiating from him, and from the pictures scattered around the room, he's a family man.
The pictures are happy, and show why he has evident lines around his mouth and eyes. In them, the Wilson family is smiling on vacations, holidays, and graduations.
