Page 46 of Ardently Yours

“Which I’m not tossing out like a clown passing around balloon animals at a birthday party because I could be wrong.”

“Stubborn woman,” I say.

“Stubborn man. Go hug your kid and try rephrasing your question about the watch. Don’t ask him if he broke it. Ask him to tell you what happened. I think he’ll tell you the truth down to every single detail. Give him the benefit of the doubt.”

How to Save a Life

Handwritten letter from "John Smith"

Two Weeks Later

October 16, 1998

Sweet Charlotte,

I know you think sending non-urgent personal mail via courier is a waste of resources, But this is weighing on me, and I needed totell you now, not wait for you to turn on your phone at nine p.m.

I got the results of Henry’s neuropsych evaluation. He’s on the autism spectrum.

With therapy, he can learn techniques to cope with his triggers, and he can develop skills to help him navigate a world that he experiences differently than others do.

Therapy is the absolute least of what I’d do for him. If he needed me to vanquish every zipper and provide a bubble for him to live in set at exactly 72 degrees Fahrenheit, I’d do it. Luckily, it won’t come to that.

Thank you for being my sassy Charlottewho speaks her mind. No one but you would have dared to suggest I seek professional help for him.

I saw his actions as misbehavior, even disrespect. The guilt is eating me alive. When I think of all the times I told him to “deal with it” or “stop being weird” about something when he was suffering or confused, I feel sick to my stomach.

You were also right about the watch. Gabriel confessed this morning. Henry found it on the hearth. He didn’t break it. I should have listened to you. I took privileges for a week for something he didn’t do. How does a person make up for something like that? My apology felt like nothing but air. He just looked at me when I asked him to forgive me.Then he said, “My chest still hurts about it. Maybe when my heart feels better.”

I failed him. I damaged his sense of self-worth and his ability to trust me. His life was harder, not better, because of my choices. I held him back from thriving because I allowed my expectations of who I thought he should be to take precedence over who he is.

Goddamn it, Charlotte. I wish you were here.

Love, Sir

Rush Rush

Charlotte

When Arden’s letter arrives,I take it from the delivery man’s hand and open it while standing on my front lawn. Bronnie plays on her pirate ship, and I read it twice in a row, my throat tight and heart squeezing.

I tease Arden sometimes about showing up at his place in disguise, but I could do it. If anyone asks who I am, I can say I’m employed by Dooney & Smith. They don’t have to know I’m only an intern or that Arden hasn’t hired the company.

I eye Bronnie as she gleefully scales the hull of her ship using the attached rope net. My child has no fear.

Don’t be a coward, Charlotte.

If I go, I’ll crash straight through the wall between us. At the very least, I’ll build a door in it.

Together with Arden in person. It’s a crazy thought.You could end up with not only your heart in shreds but harassed by reporters. They could figure out what happened with Polford.

But that’s paranoia, isn’t it? Reporters wouldn’t be likely from a single visit, and Arden needs me. Sometimes words are just air.

Hands shaking, I punch in my parents’ number on my cordless phone.

“Hello?” Mom’s voice is a happy little chirp.

I reread the way he signed his letter.“Hey, Mom. Do you think you could keep Bronnie overnight for me?”

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