An Underestimated Christmas (Underestimated 3) (11 page)

Nicholas was fine. He held on to his mommy’s hand like a little man. It was Tadpole this time. He sat on the sidewalk, screaming about something. Morgan squatted with him, trying to reason with him. He cried louder. Whatever it was, he wanted it. My first thought was to get the hell out of there before she saw me. My ethical thought caused me to take a deep breath and get out of the car.

“Drew!?” Morgan questioned. Tadpole instantly calmed down when I lifted him from now laying on the sidewalk.

“What’s going on with you?” I asked, wiping away his tears with the sleeve of my dress shirt.

“I wanna have dat,” he pointed to the car, crying again. I looked to Morgan for the correct answer.

“His bike is in the back. He’s been like this ever since he got up. What are you doing here, Drew?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. What are you doing here? I thought his appointment was at one,” I questioned.

“It was. They called right after you left, wanting to know if I wanted an earlier appointment due to a cancelation. I said yes. I hated the thought of waiting all morning.”

“I wanna wide a bike,” Tadpole dramatically reminded us that it was him we were supposed to be paying attention to. After setting him down on the sidewalk, I made him look at me and reasoned with him.

“You be a good boy in the doctor’s office and you can ride your bike, but you can’t bring it in here.”

“I want to,” he cried out, trying to sit again. I don’t know who was more surprised, Morgan or me. We were both expecting a long drawn out tantrum, but he stopped. As soon as I told him that I was going to take him to the car and he was going to sit there while Nicky got to read the books and play with the blocks, he stopped.

“You better hope this doctor has blocks and books,” Morgan alleged, bringing my attention to a fact I never thought about. “Thank you, Drew,” she praised with bright eyes and the smile I missed. I hoped who ever caused the accident on 110 was okay, but I sure did thank them for sending me here. With my wife. Where I belonged.

“Let me explain how the scoring works,” Dr. Inglewood began. I was expecting Dr. Inglewood to be a man. I guess I was too distracted to pay attention to detail. I was fine with her being a female. I just know how Drew was with women. Rarely did he admit it, but he had a hard time with women being in control. “Did either of you take the Asperger’s assessment to see where you fell on the AQ test?” she asked, looking over all the paperwork I’d filled out before the appointment.

“I did,” I offered. Drew knew nothing about it. Drew wanted to live in Denial Land and grow diamonds. He wasn’t willing to listen to everything I’d learned.

“And where did you score?”

“Seventeen.”

“Eleven to twenty-one is the average score. Twenty-two to twenty-five specifies that one has somewhat greater than average traits. Twenty-six to thirty-one is a borderline score. Eighty-six percent of the people within this category can be correctly classified as having Asperger’s Syndrome. Thirty-two is the official criteria for having Asperger’s,” Dr. Inglewood explained.

“What’s Nicky’s number?” Drew asked with his hand on Nicky’s leg. It was his way of letting Nicky know he was right there with him on the noisy paper bed.

Looking at me, Dr. Inglewood stated more than asked, “You know.”

I nodded my head and shifted Tadpole to the chair beside me. “Thirty-one,” I quietly said in a swallow.

Drew dropped to the round padded stool. He should have talked to me. He wouldn’t be coming in blind had he just been open about it. His reaction wasn’t so much as a surprise. It was more like a defeated battle, as if it was at that exact moment that he lost.

I knew we would have to rehash everything the doctor said later that day. Neither of us registered anything that she was doing. She asked Nicholas a few questions, taking notes while she did. She had him to do a few small tasks, some he breezed right through and some he couldn’t. I willed Drew to sit beside me, moving my eyes to the seat next to me. He moved to the empty chair, took Tadpole from my lap, and then placed my hand in his.

It thrilled me that Dr. Inglewood was so good with him. Nicholas was sometimes funny about strangers. Females seemed to be better than males, but Tadpole was the same way. It took him a few minutes to warm up to people, too. He normally did, though. If Nicholas had it in his mind that he wasn’t talking to someone, he didn’t. Tad couldn’t resist a lollipop, Nicholas could.

I guess I took the news I already knew better than Drew did. He suddenly had to get to an appointment when Dr. Inglewood asked if it was okay to examine Tadpole and ask him a few questions. I wasn’t worried in the least when I said yes. I think a mom just knows these things. I knew Tadpole was fine, well, besides the fact that he was going through the threes that is. Comparing the two of them was like comparing Drew and me. Nicholas was so smart, so absorbed in things. His attention span was a lot longer than Tadpole’s, but that was only with certain things. If it was about a bridge, Nicholas had hours of attention.

I didn’t mention it, but I answered the same assessment questions for Tadpole that I had for Nicholas. His score was the exact same as mine. I did it for Drew, too, but I didn’t really know how to answer the feeling questions. Drew was hard to read that way sometimes. He kept everything inside until it boiled to the surface, usually in a rage.

I endured the bumper-to-bumper traffic to take my boys to Xavier Park all the way in Malibu. I guess I needed the drive time to think. Putting a Disney movie in Tadpole’s DVD player and the construction of some suspension bridge in New York in Nicky’s, I set them up with headphones and set out in the ridiculous traffic.

Looking up from my cell phone, back to the traffic in front of me, I smiled at Drew’s text message.

Drew— I <4569834 you. I’m going to fix this. Don’t worry, okay?

Morgan— I’m just going to take the boys to Xavier Park for the afternoon. We’ll be home later. <874979374397439743 you too.

Drew— I wish you wouldn’t do that without me.

Morgan— I’m driving, Drew. We’re fine. Nicholas loves that park.

Drew— GRRRRRRR I wish you would talk to me, and tell me when you’re planning something like that. I would have gone with you. Stop texting and driving.

Morgan— I wish you would talk to me too. See you at home.

Drew— I <5 you.

Only a five
.

I spent the hour and a half drive crying and listening to sad, depressing music, forcing the self-pity even deeper. I knew the diagnosis before I ever stepped foot in that office, but I guess the reality of hearing it hit harder than I’d thought it would. I did something I had never done in that moment. I took two pills while driving with my boys in the back seat. Traffic was barely moving. It wasn’t like I was driving eighty or something. I would be fine.

Twenty minutes later, I was pulled to the shoulder, waiting for the police. It was barely a bump; my SUV was fine. It was the car I rear-ended that got the most of it. I swear I didn’t know they stopped.

“Hello,” Drew answered. “What’s wrong?”

“I sort of rear-ended a car. We’re fine. We just have to wait for the cops.”

“Morgan, are you stoned?”

“What? No.” I protested, trying not to sound as lethargic as I felt. I thought I would just sit on a park bench and be over it before driving back. I was such an idiot. What the hell was I thinking? What the hell was I doing? “The car stopped in front of me, I just couldn’t stop in time.”

“You’re okay? The boys are okay?”

“Yes, Drew. Everything is fine. There is only a little dent in the front of the car. That’s it.”

“Okay, we’ll talk about it at home, but I think you’re under the influence of Lortab right now. You think I don’t know, but I do. I can always tell, Morgan.”

“I took one pill, Drew. I’ve had a rough day, and I have a headache from hell.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

The officer didn’t think I was under the influence of drugs, he thought the puffy, crying eyes were from being a spoiled little rich bitch. Acting like a Hollywood drama diva. Whatever. He could think what he wanted.

After lunch at the park, I had to make the boys go home. Nicholas loved the bridge that hovered above the playground and spent the entire three hours going round and around, circling the entire playground. It was actually kind of nice. I could sit on the bench and keep one eye on him above me, and the other on Tadpole, sliding down the tunnel slide for the fiftieth time.

DVD’s weren’t needed on the drive home. Nicholas was out in two minutes and Tad was seconds behind him. I called Drew as soon as I was on the right road home. I guess I didn’t want to wait. I didn’t want to anticipate the fight for the next hour and a half, the inevitable argument. I deserved whatever Drew wanted to do to me. I put our kids’ lives in danger for my addiction. I had a problem. 

I couldn’t interpret the mood from the tone. “Hello,” he answered with a flat tone.

“Hey.”

“I don’t want to talk about anything, Morgan. I want to ask you to trust me, and let me take care of everything.”

“What does that mean, Drew?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want you getting an appointment with a therapist for Nicky here. I don’t want you giving him medication for anything.”

“It’s not for Asperger’s, Drew. It’s just something mild for his ADHD,” I explained the same thing he already heard from Dr. Inglewood.

“He doesn’t need that. Not yet. I’m asking one thing, Morgan. Trust me.”

“I don’t know what I’m trusting you with, Drew. You’re being crazy.”

“I’m not, baby. Just trust me with everything. Let’s not discuss it. Let’s get through Nicky’s birthday.”

“Are we moving?”

“Morgan,” Drew warned.

“This is going to drive me nuts. You do know this, right?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it. Get off the phone and pay attention to the road. I’ll talk to you when you get home.”

“You said we weren’t talking about anything. We’re not talking about that,” I countered. If we couldn’t talk about Nicky than we shouldn’t talk about my incident either.

“I didn’t mean that. We’re discussing that. I love you. Drive safe.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Bye, love.”

I couldn’t figure Drew out for the life of me. He helped me with supper, he kissed and flirted with me, and he played on the floor with the boys while we watched television. I was beginning to wonder if his plan was just to go back to the way things were supposed to be, ignore everything else in real life.

I have to admit, I liked the pretending better than real life. Having my body half across Drew’s with our boys sleeping all over us made my heart warm. I missed us being this way. I pretended to pay attention to what was on TV, just to keep us this way. My eyes locked with Drew’s for a second when he stood to take Nicholas from my lap. The way he slowly moved into me stirred things I hadn’t felt in a while.

The only way to describe the way Drew looked at me was a mixture of love, lust, anger, and dominance. Drew wanted to punish me. I knew the look well. I stared after him, rubbing Tadpole’s back until Drew came and took him, too. All the years of being with Drew, my heart still pounded in my chest. Fear stirred with excitement, and I felt the familiar throb between my legs. Shit. Fuck. Damn. I was on my period. Dammit!

Drew sat beside me on the sofa and pulled me to his lap. I straddled him and we kissed. The tension lingered around us in a fog while our tongues entwined, matching our moans. My body grinded into his, my hips thrust into his, and my hands held his face. His were all over me, including my now exposed breasts.

“Drew,” I moaned, pulling away.

Half coherent, Drew’s lips went to my neck and then the erect nipple, begging for attention. Shit, I didn’t want to tell him. “Hmmm?” he mumbled. My nipple reacted to the vibration of his hum and I moaned again. Gahhh.

“I’m on my period.” I moaned again when he didn’t stop.

“Morgan,” he rasped in my neck, sending chills down my spine. His words were like ice and I felt the cold. “I have to, baby.”

“You can. I want you to,” I responded, sinking my tongue between his lips.

“Why? Why do you say that?” he asked, squeezing my arms and staring up at me.

“Because you need it and because I deserve it.”

“Why do you think you deserve to be punished?” Drew asked in the way he would the boys.

“I did something really stupid.”

“What did you do, Morgan?” Drew asked, biting my bottom lip and fisting my hair in the back of my head. Drew was trying not to be angry, but I still worried that he’d go too far, he’d get too mad, and cross another line we couldn’t uncross. We had enough unforgettable crossed lines to last a lifetime.

“I took drugs with the boys in the car,” I admitted. Drew kissed me hard. His mouth was hungry and full of anger. He had every right to be angry and I couldn’t blame him one bit. I can be judged for that stupid decision, yes, but in my defense, we’ve all done them. It’s those things you never, ever do again. Close calls. The ones you think about and promise never to let happen again. A lesson well learned. Something bad could have happened.

“I’m going to beat your bare ass with my belt,” Drew warned, angrily tossing me to the sofa. He towered above me with a fistful of hair. “Go to our room, take your clothes off, and bend over the bed. Now.”

I did what I was told and bent over our bed, naked. I didn’t think Drew was ever going to come. I knew it was a form of torture, anticipation. My breath caught in my throat when I finally heard the door open quietly. Keeping my hands on the bed, I kept my eyes straight ahead. I heard the rattle of the metal on the belt and swallowed down the breath. Why he walked like he did was another form of torture. It took him forever to get to me.

That’s when I knew. That’s the night I knew the old Drew would never come back. A lump too big to swallow caught in my throat again when Drew flipped me to my back. Pinning me to the bed, he held my arms to the mattress. I waited with the still breath for his words to catch up with his cold, dark eyes and lash out at me.

“I can’t, Morgan,” he admitted. The sound of the belt dropping to the floor was deafening. I didn’t know what to say. He had so much emotion in his eyes. I didn’t know if they were angry, hurt, sad, frightened…hell, it was probably all of those things. My wide eyes stared up at him while my mind tried to think of something to say.