Chapter 9
A Mother’s Love
Arielle Nygard
Under a fragile mask of calm, I’m seething as I drive away from Sam’s house. But I hold it in for Austin’s sake. He doesn’t deal well with anger and after the completely out-of-the-ordinary night he’s had, he is undoubtedly teetering on the edge of a meltdown. I know that I don’t have the strength to handle that right now, so I have to keep my emotions in check until I can settle him in a familiar space.
Once at home, Austin takes himself off to the TV lounge and I hear the sounds of his favorite show emanating from the room. I stick my head around the door to make sure he’s okay and manage to reach my bedroom before the tears start falling. Tears of anger and heartache.
What the hell was Sam thinking, asking me to uproot my life – Austin’s life – to move to a third-world country? Doesn’t he realize how distressing that would be for a kid with Austin’s issues? Has he given any thought to the healthcare requirements of an autistic child? Haven’t I compromised enough by looking past his thievery? And how had he known about Tim’s romantic advances? I’m sure I’ve never mentioned it to him before. But worst of all…the things he said about Steve… That…that was unspeakably cruel. Just thinking about it gets my blood boiling.
I take my anger out on an innocent throw pillow, punching with all my might until the feeling ebbs. All that’s left now is the pain. I sob into the same pillow, hoping to muffle the noise enough to not alert Austin to my distress.
I don’t want to lose Sam. He’s completely amazing and despite our short courtship, I can’t imagine my life without him. He’s brought me out of the desert of widowhood and back into the land of the living. He’s reminded me of how wonderful it is to share my life with someone who truly cares about me and the people I care about. I feel alive again and he’s the reason why. And then, of course, there’s the fact that he’s ridiculously good-looking, and makes my toes curl with pleasure.
But Austin has to be my priority. His autism means that he doesn’t handle change well. He needs order and familiarity. When I accidentally bought the wrong brand of orange juice once, he had a meltdown that took me hours to settle. And Sam wants me to move him halfway across the globe? I can’t imagine what that would do to Austin.
When the tears dry up, I’m emotionally numb. I wash my face and leave my bedroom to check on Austin. He’s still content in the TV room, doing a puzzle. It’s his favorite pastime. I spy the deck of playing cards, stacked neatly, on the floor by his feet. My heart gives a small hitch, but I suppress the emotion and focus on my happy child. I sit down across from him and watch him work his magic. I’m not allowed to join in; I upset his rhythm and concentration.
As he works, I think about doing this exact same thing with Steve, watching our son immerse himself in an activity. Life was simpler then. It made sense. I was happy. There was no drama, no heartache. I had a partner to help raise Austin, and Steve was such a great father. He was always so proud of Austin, and they shared a special bond. Steve knew how to soothe him, how to make his world safe again when something upset him. We lived a quiet life, and I loved it.
Life might be a bit harder now that Steve’s gone, but it’s still a good life. Austin is settled in private school and doing really well. I have my job at the hospital, and a few good friends.And although my parents and sister aren’t in Nevada, they are at least in the country. Money’s going to be tight without the income from looking after Munchkin, but I’ll cope – the past few months have allowed me to catch up with some of Austin’s medical fees, and the bank is off my back about my mortgage payments. I know that won’t last long, but I’ve earned enough breathing room until I can secure another job.
I’m not going to allow money to sway my decision over what to do about Sam. I have to think that through carefully, and my decision has to be right for Austin as well as for me...and my heart.
