Page 39 of Breathing Under Water

“Love you, Kenna,” she whispers.

“Love you too, Lark.” I rub my hand over her hair, grateful to be there for her when she needs me.

19

Berry

July 2023

It was a long day at work, filled with faculty interviews for the few positions that opened at the end of the year. We also had our annual policy review, and then multiple pain-in-the-neck emails from awful Neil Rumson. I’d swear that man is trying his level best to keep me tied up with insipid tasks so I can’t do anything productive. I’m relieved to finally be pulling into my garage, picturing a night on the couch with a cold glass of chardonnay. With any luck I’ll get to watch a couple of hours ofDancing with the Starswhile Leo’s busy with his flight simulator. Phil never wants to watch competition shows and reality TV, which is part of why I’ve moved it to the top of tonight’s list.

I’m just pulling off my pumps when I get a call from McKenna. Leo’s been in much better spirits ever since I told him about my text exchange with her, explaining that she wasn’t angry and that she’d love to have him come back to the lessons. The fact that she’s calling the night before he’s due to return has me worried she’s changed her mind.

“McKenna, hi!” I try to sound cheery. I stay in the mudroom, hoping Leo won’t overhear my reaction to whatever’s coming next.

“Hi, Berry. I’m sorry to be calling with unpleasant news, but the lesson for tomorrow is canceled.”

“Oh, okay, no problem.” I’m sure Leo will be disappointed, but that’s not nearly as bad as telling him she doesn’t want him to return. “They’re still fixing the pool?” I’m already sorting through options in my head about the best way to keep Leo busy in the morning.

McKenna lets out a long sigh.

“No, the pool’s all taken care of. It has a spiffy new filtration system and, I don’t know, a bunch of other upgrades, but that’s not the issue.” She sighs again, and I brace. “They’re trying to shut down our lessons.”

I gasp in spite of myself. “What, why?” I ask, even though I feel I know the answer.

“Some club members complained, saying it’s disruptive to the calming vibe the members seek. They don’t feel Hollyhock’s an appropriate venue for a group of children with autism to be using the pool.” She sounds disgusted as she says it. But then her voice perks up. “I’m not going to stand for it though. I’m meeting with my manager in the morning, and I’m going to fix this. It’s straight-up bullshit. Sorry for the language, but I’m not accepting it.”

I appreciate her outrage, and I get it, but I don’t want to stoke the flames.

It must be the first time she’s seeing this kind of discrimination. What I want to tell her is that we’ve been through it—Leo, Phil, and I. Even Harrison. There have been plenty of times over the years. The toddler classes that wouldn’t take Leo because they “couldn’t meet his needs.” Or the neighborhood barbecues we were excluded from because Leo’s presence would just “change the dynamic.”The restaurant that wouldn’t serve us because they were aiming to provide a fine dining experience, and our fourteen-year-old clearly didn’t belong. The list goes on and on.

But who knows—maybe this time will be different? That’s what I’ve told myself on each occasion we’ve run into something like this. So far, I have yet to be surprised by good news, but I appreciate McKenna trying.

“I understand,” I say, keeping my voice calm. I fight the urge to rant about the insensitivity, how hurtful the behavior is, how I can’t understand people who’d begrudge a group of children thirty minutes in their hallowed pool in the mornings. Instead, I hold all my frustrated, irate feelings down in my gut, where only I can feel them. I say lightly, “I’ll wait to hear from you.”

After ending the call, I stare down at the phone in my hand. Somehow the intolerance still manages to take my breath away. I need a minute to recenter myself before I face anyone inside. How many times can I tell Leo to keep his chin up if I’m not doing the same? If I want my sweet son to feel safe and secure, I have to keep my shit together.

A text arrives from Phil while I’m still looking at the phone.

Got held up at the building site. Won’t be home for dinner. Sorry.

Held up at the building site? He went out to Westchester this morning to look at a new spot for a branch office. At least, that’s what he said. I click over to the “Find My” feature on my iPhone to track my husband’s location. It’s the first time in our marriage that I’ve opened this app with suspicion about what I might find.

My heart pounds as the map zooms in and the icon for Phil’s phone appears. He’s in Westchester, just as he said. But as I enlarge the map, I see he’s in an area that looks like a shoppingcenter, not an office park. I zoom back out a little, trying to get my bearings. Even though he’s not far from where his dad lives, I don’t know the area well enough to build a new hypothesis about what he might actually be doing. I exit the app and shake my head. Whether or not he’s lying to me, Phil and I are clearly not the couple we used to be.

Once Leo and I are a few bites into our dinner, I break the news to him about Hollyhock. Not the part about the club turning special-needs kids into literal outcasts, but the less offensive information that lessons will be on hold a bit longer than expected.

“Oh,” Leo says, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Can we do the lessons at the Y? You could call her and ask.” I don’t know if he’s saying to call Karyn or McKenna, but either way, it’s a nonstarter.

“McKenna still has other work to do at Hollyhock, so she can’t be over at the Y teaching lessons. Hopefully by the end of the week, everything will be sorted and you guys will be back in business.” Who knows? Maybe this situation will be the unicorn, where pushing back actually makes a positive difference.

“I was going to swim tomorrow. I wasn’t going to bring my whistle.” He lifts the mini airplane from its spot on the table and runs his finger over its wheels. “Now I’m not swimming tomorrow. Not swimming. Not swimming tomorrow.”

He looks so disappointed that I almost suggest calling Harrison to see if the two of them can do something special in the morning instead, but then I have a different idea.

“Maybe you and Dad could use the morning to go visit Grandpa Hollis?”

There’s clearly something of interest to Phil in Westchester.He could drop Leo with Hollis and then scurry back to whatever’s been keeping him so busy. It’s been too long since Leo’s had a good visit with his grandfather anyway. They’ve always gotten along nicely, except lately we’ve all been so busy that it’s been hard to make plans.