Julian’s stimming had been a major issue in the past. Not only at the preschool he’d been kicked out of, but at home. My ex-husband thought it was weird and hated that it drew attention to Julian’s differences.
At the therapeutic school he’d attended last year, his stimming had tapered off, mostly because he was surrounded by qualified professionals and other neurodiverse kids, which allowed for a comfortable environment where his nervous system could relax. But even with all the progress he’d made, I was still terrified of how he’d be treated in a public school.
“He’s safe in my classroom,” Stella said.
An overwhelming desire to hug her washed over me, but I couldn’t move, my feet glued to the spot.
“And,” she added in a conspiratorial tone, “I have a drawer full of Lego sets I use for choice time. I’m counting on him to be my engineering expert.”
“Thank you,” I said. “There’s a lot to figure out?—”
She held up a hand. “Figuring it out is my favorite part. We’re coworkers, but we’re also partners in the journey to making sure he’s happy and thriving.”
With my lips pressed together, I nodded. Then I turned my back so she wouldn’t see the way my eyes filled with tears.
Not long after, we finished up, and I took a moment to admire the progress. The cubbies and desks were labeled, the daily calendar station was set up, and our little library was bursting with books and beanbag chairs.
I was doing this. For so long, I’d dreamed of the day I’d have my own classroom in a lovely small-town school, where I could watch my kids grow while doing what I loved with my whole heart.
As I gathered the kids and headed for the car, the reality of the kindness I’d experienced today sank in. No, not just today, but since we’d arrived. This town was strange. Loud and maybe too nosy.
But maybe it was exactly what we needed.
Chapter 6
Josh
“Reed, get me something stronger,” Gabe said, raising his glass.
“Day drinking, Mister Mayor?” Logan lifted his own drink to his lips and chuckled.
The three of us sat at a high-top at Timberline Brewery, our usual summer Saturday tradition. We’d play hockey for a while and then grab lunch. The attendees varied, but my desire to leave the farm and feel like a normal person for a couple of hours did not.
We’d played pee wee hockey together as boys, eventually graduating to playing on any frozen pond we could find. None of us had ever been particularly good, though our high school team had mostly winning seasons. These days we just fucked around once a week to keep from feeling like we were over the hill.
The arena was shut down for the month in preparation of hockey season, so today we’d played street hockey inthe high school parking lot. As fun as it was, falling hurt a hell of a lot more on the asphalt.
“Fuck off with your judgment. It’s an IPA, not heroin.”
“Just saying, as a medical professional.” Logan chuckled.
“You deliver calves for a living, asshole. Why would I take medical advice from you?”
Logan sipped his beer and smiled lazily. “Undermining my accomplishments? Fine. I don’t mind. And yes, I deliver calves and foal and sheep. I sleep just fine.”
“Order up, assholes,” Reed shouted. “Don’t make me walk over there.”
The three of us clambered off our high stools and headed to the bar.
Reed pushed one plate forward. “Turkey club and fries.”
Gabe picked it up and snagged a ketchup bottle, then made a beeline back to our table.
“Veggie burger.”
With his head held high, Logan took it.
It looked nice on the plate, but I wouldn’t eat fake meat, even if someone offered me a hundred bucks to do it.
