I nod along. “That’s tough.”
“On top of all that, we just started the process for an autism diagnosis.” Lex keeps her eyes fixed ahead, as if unsure how I’ll react.
Not completely unfamiliar with autism, I begin adding up the signs: food sensitivities, eye contact aversion, matter-of-fact speech. I think I saw him fidgeting with his fingers, too, come to think of it. “I hear that’s a long process,” I comment, wanting to keep her talking.
“It is. He’s fine for now. We manage on our own and I’ve been reading about it to accommodate his needs at home, but I worry if we don’t go through all the steps that someday hemight need more assistance at school. I want to be ready for that, if the day comes. Plus, I... Never mind.”
I nudge her arm. “What?”
Lex shoves her hands in her pockets. “I’ve had some suspicions about myself for quite a while. If he gets diagnosed, it might give me some clarity about myself. Autism presents differently in boys than girls, and it wasn’t really diagnosed in girls back when I was a kid. But looking back, I can see the signs. I can’t help but wonder how different my life would have been if I’d known.”
I piece everything together about Lex, adding this new bit of information to the intricate puzzle that makes her who she is. It slots in with all of the other things I love about her—her assessing gaze, the way she carefully listens when I talk, her matter-of-fact way of speaking, how she applies her intelligence to all aspects of her life... how cute she looks when she smiles and those dimples of hers pops out, the way her new pixie cut accentuates her cheekbones, how her style has shifted and how much more confident she is than when I met her all those weeks ago.
“I think that your brain is unique,” I say, “and it’s just one of the things that makes you so beautiful. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”
Lex gazes up at me, her eyes shimmering. “I wish we’d known each other in school. Life would have been so much easier.”
“Yeah.” My smile becomes forced as I look away. “Me, too.”
But that’s not true at all. I’m thankful Lex didn’t know me when we were teenagers. If she did, I’d probably have fucked up our friendship and turned her into an enemy, just like what happened with Courtney. It took losing her and ruining my life with that damn curse to teach me a lesson—a lesson I’m still reaping the consequences of.
After grabbing some ice cream at the cute little store at the end of the block we walk back to my place. Winston, exhaustedfrom his full evening of eating cheese and peeing on everything, collapses onto the couch for a well-earned nap.
“Are you ready for some makeup, kiddo?” I ask Gabe, placing my hands on my hips.
Avoiding eye contact, he fiddles with his hands and nods. “Yes, please.”
I don a British accent and ask, “Would you like some tea while I apply your makeup, my good sir?”
Gabe meets my gaze, surprised, and smiles—just the teensiest, tiniest little smile. He has his mother’s dimples; I fucking melt. I go through the rest of tea preparation in an over-the-top accent, asking him which flavour of tea (very berry), how many creams and sugars (lots of both), and if he would like absolutely anything else.
Tea in hand, he thinks for a moment. “Can we watchGilmore Girls, too?”
I blink at him. “That might be the best idea I’ve ever heard.”
I’ve earned a wee smile, and my whole day is made. After setting my laptop on my dresser and navigating toGilmore Girls, I situate Gabe on my vanity stool and begin the process of teaching him about light and shadow, contour and colour, highlighter and bronzer. All the while, Lex lounges on my bed, watching through the mirror, beaming at the two of us together.
Thirty minutes later and Gabe is thoroughly made up and trying out a few techniques on himself while I add several items I don’t use anymore to a bag for him to take home. When it’s time to leave, Gabe goes to Winston for one last cuddle, and I hover at the bottom of the stairs with Lex.
“Thank you for today,” she says, reaching out and taking my hand in hers, as if she can’t properly convey the depth of her gratitude with words alone.
“No.” I squeeze her hand. “Thank you. I always wanted kids. Always wanted a family. Having Gabe here gave me a tasteof what that might be like. It makes me want to keep trying. Someday, this is what I want.”
“You will have it,” she says, smiling. “I promise.”
And I believe her.
Gabe joins us at the stairs and he looks up at me with those big eyes of his. “When can I come over next?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Whenever your mom says you can.”
Gabe looks to his mom. “Can she come to the waterslides with us?”
Lex looks from me to Gabe. “I don’t know, I—”
“I’d love to come!” I say, far too excited.
Lex eyes me, sucking air between her teeth.
