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“Thanks,” I reply.
As Olivia’s words sink in, I find solace in the unwavering support of my best friend and the prospect of a playdate that will bring happiness and companionship to both Emma and Ethan. With a renewed sense of optimism, I breathe a sigh of gratitude, grateful for the bonds of friendship that endure through life’s ups and downs.
Chapter 2
Blake
Thisisn’taseasyas I expected, but I can’t give up already. I try to focus on the positives. First, I have found a great school for Ethan that knows about his circumstances and can give him the support that he needs. Second, Olivia is happy to let us stay with her for as long as we need. Ideally, I will find us the perfect home before the school year starts.
The decision to return to my hometown is a practical one. It’s also an emotional one because it’s a place that holds bittersweet memories and a profound sense of loss. But being closer to my sister, Olivia, offers a glimmer of hope amidst the shared struggles that haunt me and my son. I’m already looking at the sixth property despite only being back a few days and it’s wearing me down. The only problem with moving back here is that it means compromising. The pools are small and the gardens even smaller. Ethan is used to having a huge private rooftop garden with lots of space to run around and play. Even after looking at the best properties on the market and with no limit on my budget, there’s nothing close to Olivia’s house and the school that’s currently on the market. What I need is something close to her so that I don’t have to hire a nanny. Though I can afford it, I’d prefer family watching Ethan instead of a stranger. I know I’m being stubborn, but I feel strongly about it. I’m not going to compromise.
“As you can see, it’s a remarkable home,” the realtor, Elise, tells me as we step inside a large and spacious three-bed, three-bath. “Let me show you one of its notable features: the grand living room. Then through here is the dining room.”
I follow her, looking around the large hallways and rooms. It feels very cold inside. It’s got marble floors. All I can think about is Ethan falling and bruising himself. The high ceilings and large windows let in a lot of natural light which I like, but I can see into next door’s garden which means that they can see into here. It’s crowded too close to the other houses on the street. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Elise must see that I’m unhappy because she smiles at me awkwardly.
“It’s worth noting that the fireplace adds warmth to the space, and the custom-built bookshelves provide an opportunity for personalization,” she continues, hoping to reel me in.
I look around. It’s a nice enough room, but I’m not sure about the design. It feels a bit too grand and formal for my taste. I can’t imagine Ethan being comfortable here. It needs to be kid friendly. His well-being is my top priority, and the thought of him starting a new school in an unfamiliar environment without a comfortable home leaves me on edge. I need to provide him with a nurturing and secure space, a sanctuary where he can thrive and grow.
“The view is nice,” I admit. “But the place lacks the cozy atmosphere that I’m looking for. I don’t think this is going to work,” I reply honestly. There’s no point continuing the viewing.
I can’t help but be disappointed. I’ve asked to see the best properties in the area and all of them need work. I would have to hire contractors and builders and designers to make the place work but I want to be able to move in with no stress. Ethan has had enough upheaval lately.
Elise nods. “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington, but this is the last one in this area. We’re going to have to look further out. There are some lovely properties in the Hillside Estates, but it’s an hour’s drive from here.”
I know of Hillside Estates. It’s full of magnificent mansions with sprawling lawns and meticulously maintained gardens. The properties are situated on large plots of land, providing residents with ample privacy. All of this would be wonderful if it wasn’t so far from Ethan’s new school. I don’t think it’s fair for him to be expected to travel for several hours a day when he’s already struggling.
I sigh. “Thanks for trying, Elise.”
“It’s okay, we can go back to the drawing board. I know you’ll find something that suits you. Let me make some calls and see what I can do,” she tells me. Elise accompanies me back to her office with plans for another arduous house-hunting expedition. Despite her efforts and the numerous real estate listings she’s emailed me, each promising a glimmer of hope, none of the properties feel like the right fit.
***
“No luck?” my sister asks as I arrive home several hours later. Her voice carries a hint of sympathy as I wearily enter her cozy kitchen, the soft glow of warm lighting enveloping the room.
Olivia lives in our mother’s house. It was where we grew up and it’s exactly the kind of place I’m looking for in a family home. But it’s Livy’s house now. I would never expect her to leave despite it being too big for her alone—I feel like she needs the connection to our mother more than I do. I’m happy to have my sister and my son. It’s enough for me. I don’t need the house. I want somewhere new that I can call my own. Plus, who knows, she might meet someone one day and settle down and fill it with children. God knows that she loves kids.
“No.” I shake my head in reply to her; my fatigue is clear in every movement. The weight of the day’s disappointment settles heavily on my shoulders. I can’t help but let out a heavy sigh, my eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and frustration.
Ethan sits at the kitchen island, his small fingers carefully navigating the intricate lines of his coloring book. Bending down, I press a tender kiss on his tousled hair, hoping to infuse him with a sense of comfort and love.
“You have a good day, buddy?” I inquire, my voice filled with both concern and a glimmer of hope.
Taking the seat beside him, I watch him intently, marveling at how effortlessly he colors within the lines. His silence—the persistent veil of selective mutism that has enveloped him since the trauma—weighs heavily on my heart. I yearn to hear his voice, to witness his uninhibited laughter and playful banter with other children. But for now, I hold on to the small victories, cherishing the progress he’s made and the moments of connection we share.
“How’s he been?” I ask.
I turn to Olivia seeking reassurance in her warm presence. Her eyes shimmer with understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the challenges we face.
“He had a really good day,” she replies, her voice laced with a mix of pride and encouragement. “We met up with Lily and little Emma as planned, and he played on the swing.” Her words hang in the air, punctuated by an unspoken understanding of the significance of this seemingly ordinary accomplishment.
A swell of emotions washes over me—surprise, relief, and an overwhelming surge of pride. Ethan’s journey through his mutism has been a rollercoaster ride, leaving us navigating uncharted territory. The professionals we’ve consulted assure me that time, patience, and a nurturing environment will be the catalysts for his healing, but it’s a process that demands unwavering devotion and a delicate balance of support. It’s why I’m doing this. All of this is for him.
“That’s wonderful,” I respond. “Seems like a playdate with Emma was a great idea.” I offer my sister a grateful smile. I trust Olivia’s judgment.
My memories of Lily are filled with warmth and kindness. It’s been far too long since we last spoke, but I have a good feeling about her and the support she can offer. I’ve been meaning to message her since I decided to move back home, but with everything going on with Ethan, I’ve just not had time.
I return my gaze to my son. He’s amazing. I find myself impressed with his resilience and the strength he has, even in his silent battles.
