The Wave by Kristen Crusoe (smallest ebook reader txt) 📕

towards others won them over. The few women who frequented the diner watched him out of the corners of their eyes, his handsome face drawing them in. During the search for Devon, Cookie and Tom had closed the diner so everyone could help with the search. The men volunteered their boats, dogs, and sheer determination in the search and when the focus switched from rescue to recovery, they cried alongside Adam. Their wives sent casseroles and pies to the home. The small coastal community felt each loss to the ocean as a rip in the fabric of their lives.

He looked up from the book he had been reading, at her kind, soft, round face, hair cropped in a no-fuss cut. He noticed she had lost weight since he had seen her last. He didn’t know if she knew about Clair and all that had happened over the past few months. It was a small town and people talked. He couldn’t detect any pity or judgement on her face.

‘I know, been busy. You’re looking good, Cookie. Everything going well for you and Tom?’

‘Oh yeah, I had to lose weight. Damn those doctors. Diabetic. Have to walk and exercise now. And quit eating my own doughnuts and pies. Tom too. He isn’t diabetic but he joined me, out of sympathy, you know. We’re both doing it. And quit smoking. It’s about to kill me but if I can keep it up for another few months, we’re going to celebrate and go to Hawaii again, like on our honeymoon.’

Her voice rang out across the diner, years of cigarette smoking and breathing bacon grease had coated her vocal cords so that she sounded like a fog horn blasting a warning to ships coming into harbor. Patrons were used to it and didn’t bother to look up, unless she was aiming her blasts directly at them.

Adam sat back in the booth, smiling up at her.

‘That’s great, Cookie. Hawaii, huh? That will be a nice place to be around February.’

‘Don’t you know it,’ she laughed, and sauntered off, stopping to fill coffee cups, chat up a table, and deposit checks.

Adam thought maybe he and Clair could take a trip like that, once her treatments were over. Hawaii would be good in the dark days of February. Or Mexico again, that would be good too. Anywhere sunny and warm. Shake off winter and bring in spring and all its newness and possibilities. I won’t say anything now, he said to himself. I’ll wait. First, I have to win her trust back. Win her love back. And I will.

With his new resolve, Adam drove back to the cancer center, to Clair’s apartment, to get his coat, or that would be the reason he would give her. He still had a hard time referring to the residential housing as Clair’s home. To him, it was a temporary placement, a way station on their journey back to their shared, real home. He could wait. He had showered and shaved that morning, dashing his face with the aftershave cologne she had given him on his birthday, back in March. Clair had surprised him with dinner out. Their first in years, since Devon’s diagnosis. Dressed in a swirl of blues and greens, a shimmering fabric that had clung to her body like a second skin, she had been glowing, beautiful.

‘How did you manage to do this?’ he had asked, incredulously. ‘Who’s watching Devon?’

She had met him outside his office, with a dinner reservation and tickets to a film playing at the old, renovated Egyptian Theater. A black and white, with stars playing heroic roles.

‘Shelly,’ she said simply. ‘I found Shelly.’

‘OK, and who is this wonder woman Shelly?’

‘More girl than woman, but she is a caregiver who specializes in children with autism. Devon’s teacher gave me her contact information. And I called. She came over, met Devon, played with him for an hour or so, and I could tell he bonded with her. And she’ll come every day now, for a few hours after his school. Oh Adam, it means I can return to work!’

He remembered how her eyes glowed with hope and joy at the prospect of returning to her classroom. Of being in the space where learning happens and students, faculty, staff are all engaged in the active process of seeking and finding new knowledge and ways to apply it. She had been trying to keep up using the online learning management system, and it worked, but she missed the smells, the sounds, and energy of the classroom.

‘Just part-time you know, for now. But it’s a start, and it is so good to see Devon happy again. He’s doing much better now that he has a regular schedule, with his school, after school therapy sessions, and now structured play time with Shelly. I know it’s busy and leaves him little time to just be a free-range kid but I think that is what he needs most right now. His therapist thinks so too. He told me children with high functioning autism need to be challenged and stimulated, highly structured, or they feel anxious.’

‘Sounds like he thinks Devon’s a problem to be solved, rather than a kid to love.’ Adam said, frowning. ‘He is just four years old.’

‘Yes, but a very bright four-year-old with a neurological disorder. If he is going to have any chance of a normal life, he has to find ways to fit into mainstream education,’ Clair said, her glow fading in this replay of an argument she and Adam had on a regular basis.

He had wanted Devon to have more time to play and be creative, use his imagination. He thought that Clair wanted him tucked away in a neat little box, where he would fit into society. It caused angry words, sometimes tears, and always regret. He didn’t want that to happen tonight. He didn’t want to spoil their night out, a simple thing but for them, a step towards normalcy. Going out together, as a man