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“No. I’m just saying—You know what? Forget I said anything just now.”
“No. You started this, so finish it.”
“Have you ever had Ryan tested?”
“Tested? Tested for what?” I am now on my feet and walk over to where she is sitting. “Are you saying there is something wrong with Ryan?”
“‘Wrong’ is a very strong word. But as a special education professional I do believe that there is something different about him. I suspect he’s autistic.”
I stare at her as though she has grown two heads. “What!?”
“Look. I know how it sounds. But autism is not something to fear. I think you need to get him tested.”
“And I think this conversation is over.”
“But, Lucan—”
“Isaidthis conversation is over.” My eyes flash angrily as I stare her down. There are a few tense seconds before I turn on my heel and go to my room, slamming the door behind me.
Rage races through me as Summer’s words echo in my head.
Autistic. I suspect Ryan is autistic.
It is like a death knell, and despair sweeps over me. I lean against the window and look down at the pool. Gone is the euphoria of this morning when I felt a surge of victory and progress with my hunt for club locations. In its place is a feeling of having failed not only Ryan, but also my brother, Vincent. He must be rolling in his grave right now to see me doting on with his son’s nanny instead of seeing to Ryan’s needs. I feel like such a disappointment to have let my guard down in this fashion.
Ryan is autistic.
And of all the people to say that to me. I bang my hand against the wall angrily. This is why I do not like to mix sex and my personal affairs.
“Dammit!”
The first thought that comes to mind is that I have to fire her. The audacity of her overstepping her bounds to tellmethat I need to get Ryan tested for autism. But firing her now is far from being an option so far from home. Plus, Ryan likes. No, loves her.
I close my eyes as I try to think straight. Had this happened before yesterday afternoon, there is no way Summer could have felt bold enough to say what she had. But it happened. And she has said what she has to say. Now what? Will she treat Ryan differently based on her experience as a ‘special education professional’ and what she believes is his condition? Can I trust her not to hold it as a prejudice against my son?
Chapter Thirteen
Summer
I steeple my fingers beneath my chin as I stare at Lucan’s closed door. That did not go as planned. I stand and walk over to the window to stare down at the pool. Lucan’s reaction tells me that he, like the many millions of people in the world, have a preconceived negative notion of autism. I used to be like that until I had started working in special education.
I take one more look at Lucan’s door, then check my watch. I have a few minutes before Ryan wakes up. I go to my room and pick up my phone.
The line rings twice before someone answers.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Shawn. It’s Summer.”
“Hey, Summer. How’s the summer treating you.” He cracks up over his own joke and I roll my eyes.
“I’m good. Listen, I have a situation and I’m hoping you can give me some direction.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“I’m working as a nanny for a little boy, six years old. And I think he’s autistic.”
“Think? You should know.”
