Page 55 of Make Me Trust Again
CHAPTER TWELVE
ROSE
“He’s been getting so much better,” Dr. Lerry says.
My glance darts to the corner of the room where I can see Kyle play with a girl around his age, both of them signing.
“Do you really think so?” I ask, reluctantly shifting my gaze to the woman.
She’s in her late forties or early fifties. Her dark hair is pulled into a low ponytail, and metal frames are hiding the majority of her face, making her brown eyes seem even bigger somehow.
Dr. Lerry’s been Kyle’s speech therapist since the very beginning. She’s been with us through those hard early stages and dealt with some of Kyle’s tantrums and my insecurities, helping us both navigate this process.
The older woman places a hand on my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze. “You’re doing an amazing job with him.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “If you ask Kyle, he’d tell me I’m bugging him with all the speaking nonsense.”
“Which is the reason why he’s made such outstanding progress in the last year. You know there is only one thing thatwill help, and that’s practice, practice, and more practice. One day he’ll be thankful for that.”
“I hope so.” I nod absentmindedly, my gaze darting to the kids. Now there is a woman there with them, and all of them are talking about something. Even from here, I can see the happiness radiating on his face. “I worry about him. We don’t have anybody from the deaf community living close by, so he doesn’t really have a lot of chances to speak with people in sign, except with me. And well, now one of his friends from school is learning ASL as well.”
“That’s amazing, Rose. Having a community is important, but there is only so much you can do about that. Besides, what’s more important is for him to learn how to adapt to the world, be a normal kid, and make friends. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Her words ease some of the worry that’s been nagging at me for months now, ever since he started school. I want him to have access to a deaf community, make friends who are like him, but that is downright impossible in a town the size of Bluebonnet Creek. Between our obligations, it’s not like we can often drive into town so he can play with some of the kids we’ve met in passing here in the hospital.
We chat for a little while longer before Dr. Lerry has to get back to work. I join Kyle, who’s still playing with the girl, the two of them signing occasionally, but then a nurse comes and calls them into one of the offices.
I give them a grateful smile, which the woman returns as she ushers her daughter to their appointment.
Ready to go?
Yeah, sure.
We make our way to the parking lot and into the car. Kyle jumps into the back seat, buckling in.
Can we stop for ice cream before going home?
The corner of my mouth twitches upward.When did we not stop for ice cream?
What started off as a bribe to get him here has now turned into our tradition. We’d go into the city, do the appointment, and then stop at the drive-thru to grab our ice cream on the way back home.
Kyle is quiet on the drive, his whole focus on the game he’s playing on the tablet. Usually, the appointments tire him, both mentally and physically, so he takes the drive back to rest and doesn’t communicate at all.
At first it worried me, but then I met a mom of a girl with a cochlear implant, and she told me that her daughter had a tendency to take off her processors when she needed some “time off” for her ears, and this was probably Kyle’s way of doing the same so I shouldn’t worry about it and just give him the time he needs.
After the quick stop to grab ice cream, we get on the road back home. Soft country music fills the cabin of my truck as I navigate the busy Austin streets, until they finally give in to the less crowded roads, and then we’re back home.
My gaze darts to the main house as I make my way down the gravel road toward the cottage, but the place seems still, and the backyard is empty. Is he home? With Chase, you can never be sure. I haven’t seen him since he stormed out of my kitchen the other day; then again, it’s not like I’ve seen him a lot prior to that. Some days when I thought I saw glimpses of him, my heart would kick up a notch, but almost as quickly, he’d disappear. Is he generally like that, or does he hide in his own home because we are here? Am I looking too much into it? I’m not sure. The truth is, I don’t know what to make of him.
I’m nobody’s savior.
I still can’t get his words out of my head. Erase the mix of anger and pain that I saw traces of before that mask fell in place.
I know I should let it go; I have too many of my own problems to deal with, but for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about it.
About him.
The truth is, I don’t know what to make of Chase Williams. The man is an enigma. Quiet and broody most of the time, but then a soft side of him emerges and throws me off kilter.
