Page 134 of As They Are
Colleen’s house was homey. There was a simple love seat on one wall with a TV and a dining room table set for two people. Despite the small furniture, it felt full. Everything was older, looking like it came out of a nineties magazine, but just like the farmhouse, it was warm.
I’d always been inspired by charm, but usually I would say this needed work. Instead, I felt like it was exactly what it should be.
Maybe my definition of charm was changing.
Colleen turned to Henry, mouth open as if she was about to say something, but then she zeroed in on him.
“What are those things in your ears? Please tell me you don’t need hearing aids already!”
Now Henry tensed. “N-no, Mom, they’re not hearing aids.”
“They’re a gift from me,” I said. “Earplugs,so he doesn’t get overwhelmed.”
“Plugs? Can you even hear?” Her voice grew louder, and Henry blinked against it.
“Yeah. I can still hear pretty much everything. Just not as intensely.”
Colleen hummed. “Weird.”
“They’ll help him have a better time staying over,” I said. “Isn’t the quality time what matters?”
She hummed as she considered it. “You’re right. He’s always leaving early. Maybe these will help. Earplugs.Who would’a thought?” She shrugged, accepting my explanation easily enough.
“I can take them out if they bother you,” Henry said.
“No,” I hissed. “If they help, we use them. Just like glasses.”
“Wren—”
“She’s got your best interests in mind, huh?” Colleen laughed. “Don’t take them out if they help. I’m just trying to wrap my old head around it.”
I rubbed Henry’s back. “Don’t make it worse just so other people are comfortable.”
“I’m trying,” he said. “This is all new to me.”
“You’re doing great.”
“Huh?” Colleen interrupted. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Nothing. Just making sure he knows he’s all good.”
“Of course he is! He’s home! What could be better than that?”
“Yeah, Mom.” A soft smile graced Henry’s face. “I’m home.”
He must love her. As he should. Sometimes it was hard to love, and be loved by, those who didn’t understand you.
And some people failed at the whole thing entirely.
I looked in between them, heart panging as I thought of myself. But I shoved it aside. Henry was the important one here. Not me.
Walking to the wall, I eyed all of the pictures. Some were old, possibly of Colleen when she was younger. There were a few wedding pictures and some of a young boy with glasses.
“Please tell me this is Henry,” I said.
“It is,” Colleen replied.
“Thewire glasses!”I turned to him. “You were so cute.”
