"Then I don't like kids," he replied.
"I didn't like a lot of kids when I was younger," I said, low enough that Brenda wouldn't hear. "But then I realized I just hadn't met the right ones."
"I don't think I'm going to meet the right ones when Grandma follows me around saying 'This is Percy. Can he play with you?' I look like a dumb baby."
Despite his complaints, Percy could hold his own with other kids and they tended to be cool with him too. It was the adults who invented the problems. Either they wanted to structure the hell out of every minute or they felt the need to overexplain his communication differences. All of it backed him into a corner where people talkedathim and nottohim, and he became more of an object than a participant. Or—this one really fucked me up—they felt entitled to the details of his story.
It didn't make me popular in the playdates-and-birthday-party circles but I had a lot of experience educating other parents on how to treat my kid like a human being.
Brenda…was a different situation.
She wanted the best for Percy but she didn't trust most of the information I gave her. Accommodations, adaptive tech, unconventional systems—it all sounded like overcomplication to her. Her way had worked before when Penny was young, so in her mind, it was still the right way, even if it meant bypassing what Percy needed now.
I had to tread lightly with her. I had to respect the glass foundation our relationship had been built on and the weight of her grief resting upon it. She was a link to a history I'd never be able to fill in for him.
"Didn't you have a great time?" Brenda asked him. Without waiting for a response, she said to me, "Percy had agreattime. We're gonna set up a playdate for next week."
Another eye roll from my son. "All they're going to do is run around and scream."
An hour spent running and screaming would probably solve a minimum of fifty percent of my problems. The freedoms of childhood were wasted on children.
Before I could convince Percy this wasn't the worst thing in the world, Brenda let out a long, noisy yawn. "It's been a day," she said through another yawn. "We're going to sleep well tonight, aren't we, Percy? And a good breeze too. Nice night to have all the windows open."
Percy glanced up at me, his eyes saying,See what I'm dealing with here?
If the past few days had been any indication, Brenda would be zonked out within the hour. I gave him a nod before saying, "The summer sunsets fool you into thinking it's earlier than it is."
"Sure do," Brenda said. "But my sweet Percy knows right when it's time for bed. Just like his mama."
Her words broke on a sob, and a moment later she bustled into the house, the screen door snapping behind her.
I sucked in a breath and slowly let it out. "Let's take a walk along the water," I said to Percy.
"Why does it make Grandma sad that I'm like my mom?"
I took his hand and led him down the slight hill of Brenda's yard to the shores of Saginaw Bay. The house was postage stamp small but the location couldn't be better. A gentle tide lapped against a narrow strip of sandy beach as night saturated the horizon.
"You don't make her sad," I said. "She's sad that your mom isn't here anymore. She misses your mom a whole lot."
"But I remind her of my mom and that hurts her feelings."
I wanted there to be a quick, clean explanation that would remove this burden from his young shoulders. But I knew there wasn't one because I'd searched for it many times before. "Grandma loves that she sees parts of your mom in you. It's special for her, even if it's hard."
He considered this for a moment, the bucket hat bobbing as he nodded. Then, "What if I do things that don't remind her of my mom anymore? Will that hurt her feelings too?"
"No, my dude, that won't happen. Grandma loves you exactly as you are. Seeing those pieces of your mom in you is a special gift."
"Like an extra chicken nugget in the bottom of the bag."
"Yes, precisely that."
"But I don't cry when I get an extra nugget. Nuggets make me happy."
"Sorry, man. It's not a perfect metaphor."
"What's a metaphor?"
I rubbed the back of my neck. There was no limit to this kid's questions. "Are there any cool rocks on this beach?"
