Winter Hopes (Seasons of Love) (20 page)

“Of course I do,” Matt snapped, his eyes flashing. “But a special needs school? God, Lydia. The stigma attached to that… do you
know what people are going to say about him?”

“Stigma? Is
that
what you’re concerned about? The label? Who cares about labels? Who cares what anyone says about him?” Lydia cried, balling her icy hands into fists at her sides. “I hate to tell you this, but only old school folks like our parents would still consider it to have a stigma attached. Not people our age. Are you aware,
really
aware, of what’s going on with this generation of kids? Unfortunately, there are so many kids with issues nowadays,
therapies and autism and special schools have all become commonplace. Everyone knows
someone whose child has some sort of developmental issue or disability, whether it’s low-level or severe.” She made herself stop and take a deep breath. Matt still glared at her. “Don’t worry about
labels, alright? Just
wipe that ancient notion out of your head. For
Andy’s
sake. You’re his father, stand up for him! Don’t
let
anyone say ignorant things about him.”

Matt gritted his teeth and shook his head again.

“Look,” Lydia added, “if it helps, he’s been classified as what's
called ‘highly functional’. He
is
a very bright little boy, and no, he’s not at all on the spectrum. He’s got a lot more going for him than some of the students in that school, who do indeed have severe, irreversible mental, emotional, and physical disabilities. So be
grateful that Andy
can
be helped, that it’s all workable, and that he’s going to be in a
place that can really help him. With a school like this giving him such an
early start, so much help, he will, eventually, be as ‘normal’ as you
wish he would be.”

Matt sighed deeply, closed his eyes, and ran his hands through his hair again. Lydia stood in silence as she watched him absorb and process everything.

“Fine.” Matt looked back at her, his blue eyes as cold as she’d ever seen them. “Fine. So this starts when?”

“The Monday right after Thanksgiving weekend.”

“Half day or full day? Full school year?”

“Full day, actually. And yes, full school year. It’s a school, Matt, a real preschool with a schedule like any other school.”

Matt nodded curtly and asked, “How much is this going to run us?”

Lydia smiled a small, victorious smile. “Well, there’s one bonus.
It doesn’t cost us anything. The school district pays for it. Our tax dollars at work. We didn’t ask to put him there, they
placed
him there, so they pay for it. We don’t pay a dime. Feel a little better about it now?”

“No,” he spat. “No, I don’t.”

Lydia nodded. “I know. It’s… a lot to take in.”

“You should have told me,” Matt said tightly. He looked ready
to explode, but was managing to somehow rein it in. “You should have called me the day you got the call from his teacher. You should have told me about the CPSE meeting. From now on, I expect to be
consulted on
every
major decision that has to do with my son. Every single one. He’s my son too, goddammit. Am I clear, Lydia? You got that?”

“Sure,” she said in a low voice, swallowing back any further reply.

They stood and stared at each other for a few heavy seconds.
Matt was the one to break the gaze. “Andy,” he called out, looking away. “Come on out.”

Andy came flying out of his room at the end of the short
hallway. He ran into his father’s waiting arms.

“We’re gonna get your jacket, buddy,” Matt told the boy. “Time to get going.”

“Yah!” Andy smiled. He turned to Lydia and opened his arms for a hug.

Lydia went over to take Andy out of Matt’s arms and squeeze him
tightly in her embrace. “Mommy loves you, sweetie,” she murmured into his hair, covering his cheeks with kisses. “Mommy loves you so much.”

Andy smiled brightly. “Maaaama.” He kissed her face with big, wet smacks, and giggled.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” she said. “Daddy will bring you home tomorrow after dinner. You have fun with Daddy this
weekend, okay? Just you boys? You have a good time.”

“Yah, yaaaah,” Andy smiled again. He let Matt help him put his coat on, then grabbed his stuffed Elmo doll and headed right for the door. Matt turned to pick up the little Elmo suitcase.

“Hey, wait for me, buddy!” Matt called out. He rushed to follow the little boy. “I’ll bring him home tomorrow at six,” he said over his shoulder, closing the door behind him.

Lydia sank onto the couch and took a deep, cleansing breath.
Well, that could have been
worse
, she thought to herself. But she
couldn’t make
her stomach stop churning. Rubbing her cold hands together, she sat for a few minutes, just breathing and composing herself. With a last deep breath, she looked at her watch. She had forty minutes to get
herself together, double check her overnight bag, and get to the train station.

She stood up purposefully. She couldn’t wait to get to the city,
get
to Sam, and just put the morning—and her tumultuous world—
behind her for a little while.

“HAPPY THANKSGIVING!”
Ethan yelled for the eighteenth time that day.

“He certainly is ebullient, isn’t he?” Paul Goldstein said. He smiled indulgently at his grandson, then shifted in his seat on the
couch to watch Ethan and Andy run around the living room, screeching as they went. “They both are. Such energy! How can anyone keep up?”

“We barely do, Dad,” Jane cracked, leaning into her husband,
who
lounged beside her. “We’re all exhausted by the end of the day,
every day. Little ones are exhausting.”

“Alright, you two,” Tyler said loudly to the boys. “That’s it for
the running in here. All the kids are down in the playroom, and that’s where you guys need to be. Go on.”

“Go on,” Roslyn Goldstein echoed to her grandchildren. “Go downstairs. We’ll see you soon. Go play.”

The boys did as they were told, giggling as they headed to the basement.

Lydia surveyed the scene from her armchair in the corner. On the two brown leather couches that faced each other in the middle of Jane’s large, spacious living room sat all of her immediate family; Tyler and Jane on one couch, her parents on the other. Before that afternoon, Lydia hadn't seen her parents in almost six months.

She thought that Roslyn and Paul looked pretty good for their mid-sixties. Time had been fairly kind to them. Roslyn’s brown hair
was a bit thinner than it had been in her youth, and it was shorter
than
Lydia had seen it before; she'd always wondered why women cut their hair short when they got older. She had no intention of doing
so when
she got older. Paul’s hair had vanished years before, leaving a
monk’s ring around his head; but it was all salt and pepper now, instead of the chestnut brown of his younger years.

Lydia watched her parents as they talked with Jane and Tyler.
When she scrutinized them closely, they did appear to have aged slightly—she could see the subtle changes. Since they’d moved to Florida about eight years before, she'd become more aware of the
passing of
time, since she only saw them a few times a year. This visit, they
were a
little grayer, a little more lined in the face, a little more slouched
over. But overall, they both still looked good and were healthy, and for that she was glad.

Her mother seemed to sense she was being studied and glanced over at Lydia. When their eyes met, they smiled at each other
warmly.
Just then, Lydia’s cell phone jingled from her jeans pocket, signaling her that she had a text message. She pulled it out to look at the screen.

Zack just almost pulled the turkey off the kitchen counter
, Sam’s text read.
Everyone freaked. I almost wet myself laughing.

Lydia pressed her lips together to stifle a giggle.
Wish I could’ve seen that!
she wrote back, smiling.

Yeah, my nephew’s something else
, Sam wrote back immediately.
How’s it going there?

So far, okay
, Lydia texted.
But it’s early yet. Give it time
.

“What are you doing over there?” Paul’s voice boomed, making Lydia jump.

“Just texting, Dad,” Lydia said as she regained herself.

“That’s a little rude, with your whole family here, don’t you
think?” Paul’s watery blue eyes focused on his younger daughter.

“I wasn’t trying to be rude,” Lydia said coolly. “Sorry if it
offended you. I’ll sign off.”

Gotta go
, she texted quickly.
Keep texting me all day, though, it
makes me smile.

“Who are you texting, anyway?” Roslyn asked, annoyed.

“No one you know,” Lydia said. “Just a friend.”

You got it
, came Sam’s answering text.
You make me smile too.

Lydia grinned softly and shoved her phone back into her pocket.

“So Mom,” Jane said, quickly changing the subject in an effort to
shield Lydia from any further questions. “Are we going to do some damage tomorrow? Mad shopping spree on Black Friday? You up for it?”

“Depends where we go,” Roslyn said. “Will Sophie come with
us? I’d really like her to, I want to buy her something she wants,
something special.”

“Ah, indulging the only granddaughter,” Tyler smiled. “Sounds great, Roz. Sophie will love that.”

“And Lydia?” Roslyn glanced back over at her. “You’re coming too, right?”

“I can’t, I have Andy,” Lydia said. “Matt’s not taking him until Saturday morning.”

“Leave him here with us,” Tyler suggested. “We’ll have a boys day, and you’ll all have a girls day. Seriously.”

Lydia arched an eyebrow with skepticism. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Tyler said easily. “It’s only for a few hours.”

“What, you think we can’t handle him?” Paul asked, almost snide. “Come on, what’s one more boy?”

You'll see for yourself, when Andy's that one more boy
, Lydia thought. “Well, alright then,” she said. “Thanks for the offer, Ty. That’ll be nice.”

“Come over early,” Jane told her. “I want to get out really early. Come at like… eight-thirty. We’ll all have a quick breakfast together, and we ladies can be on the road at nine.”

“Okay,” Lydia nodded. “You want me to pick up bagels on the way?”

“Sure, sounds good,” Jane said. “I’ll make coffee, don’t get any.”

“Can you get some lox too?” Paul asked.

“Of course, Dad,” Lydia smiled.

“And some creamed herring too?” Paul added, his face
brightening from the idea.

“Ugh,” Jane grunted. “That stuff is so gross.”

“I love it!” Paul cried. “And I’m in New York, I can get the real thing!”

“No problem, Dad,” Lydia said.

“It’s bad for your blood pressure,” Roslyn muttered to her husband.

“So I’ll drink a lot of water after,” Paul said, waving her off.

Tyler’s younger brother, Jack, came into the living room. He
smiled at the group in greeting before he said, “Hey, Ty. You have too many
remotes down there, I can’t figure out how to get the Wii started.
Give us a hand?”

“Sure,” Tyler said, standing. He gave Jane a quick kiss on the lips before he excused himself.

“He still loves you,” Roslyn teased her. “That’s nice.”

“Yeah, he’s a keeper,” Jane acknowledged with a grin.

“Thirteen years of marriage, I should hope so!” Paul laughed.

“I’m very lucky.” Jane smiled. “He’s a good man.”

“Yes he is,” Lydia said, rising from the armchair. “I’m going to get a glass of wine. Anyone want anything while I’m up?”

“No thanks, honey.” Roslyn smiled.

“It’s a little early for wine, isn’t it?” Paul asked with a staunch look.

Lydia checked her watch. It was two-thirty. And she was with
her parents. “On a holiday? Nah.” She stretched her arms over her
head. “Janie, want anything?”

“Actually, I’ll come with you,” Jane said, also rising. “I should go see how things are going in the kitchen, and mingle with the rest of my company a bit too.”

“Well, Tyler’s family is all downstairs,” Paul pointed out with a disdainful expression. “Not very social, if you ask me.”

“Dad,” Jane chided, “Jack and Debbie are downstairs with all of
the kids. Three of mine, and Andy, and two of their own. That’s a
huge help to us.”

“They could come up here too,” Paul shrugged.

“They will, when it’s time to eat,” Jane said, patting her father’s shoulder as she passed him. “And then it’ll be so loud, you’ll wish everyone was back downstairs.”

Paul made a face and Roslyn smiled at their daughters as they
left the living room.

“Think you’re escaping without me?” Jane whispered to her
sister. “The hell you are.”

Lydia repressed a chuckle. “I tried to lasso you. I had to get out
of
there before the next round of questions started. I saw where that
conversation was going.”

“I know. Come on, I want a glass of wine too. Maybe the whole bottle.”

They giggled and made their way into the kitchen, where Tyler’s mother and aunt were chopping vegetables for a tremendous salad.
The counter before them was cluttered with bowls and pieces of red
and yellow peppers, cucumbers, and carrots.

“Mom! Aunt Kathy!” Jane cried. “I didn’t realize you two were in here doing this! Oh my goodness, I’m sorry!”