“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.
“I’m proud of you, Ethan,” I whisper, my voice laced with heartfelt admiration. “Well done for joining in at the playground today.”
For normal parents, such a small thing is nothing. But to me, him just playing at the park is the first time in months means everything to me. It’s the first real sign that moving from our New York penthouse and back to White Plains was the right decision. In that fleeting moment, I catch a glimpse of the vibrant future that lies ahead—a future where Ethan’s voice will once again fill the space around us, where his laughter will intertwine with the sounds of childhood play. I hope that things will get better.
Chapter 3
Lily
It’s late and cold when I finally walk up to Olivia’s house to pick up Emma. I try to put on a brave face. My bus had been late and I stood around in the cold for ages. I also had to walk twenty minutes to and from the closest bus stop. The commuting paired with the constant rejections from the interviews I’ve attended this week is starting to take a toll. I can’t help but feel the weight of my financial struggles pressing down on me. My savings are dwindling and even though Olivia would let me borrow money to cover my bills I would never ask.
Today was a total disaster and it was only for a merchandising position at a clothes store. The problem I’m having is that I need a part-time position, but employers are wanting full availability from me, which I don’t have as a single mom. I need to be able to pick Emma up from kindergarten when the school year starts. Not being able to drive makes this even more difficult. Even with Olivia helping me out, I can’t rely on her constantly. It’s not fair to expect that from her even though she assures me that it’s fine. She is a saint and I’m lucky to have her. I wish I could stay home with Emma all the time, but it’s just not possible. I need to put food on the table. So, until I can find something that works, I’m just going to have to power through.
I let myself into Olivia’s house using my key. As I enter, I can hear Emma’s voice echoing through a microphone, singing at the top of her voice down the corridor. I grin to myself. She sounds terrible but I love her confidence and it cheers me up a little. I follow the sound until I reach the playroom. It used to be a second sitting room when we were growing up, but Olivia has filled it with toys and now it’s Emma’s favorite room. As expected, my daughter is performing a song into a toy microphone, while dressed as a princess, crown on her head. Ethan accompanies her with a little keyboard on the floor.
“Oh, well done, guys. It sounds like you are pop stars!” I tell them enthusiastically as I step inside the room.
The kids look up, pleased at my praises.
“Mommy!” Emma sings in greeting, before returning to her song.
“Oh, hi Lily!” Olivia pipes up. She is sitting on one of the plush sofas, cheering them on.
It’s then that I notice a familiar face sitting in the corner. It takes me a moment to register that it’s Blake, Olivia’s twin brother. He’s grown up. He’s more handsome than I remember, and a flutter of butterflies takes flight in my stomach. I quickly gather my composure.
“Hi, Blake,” I say, my voice betraying me with a hint of nervousness. “It’s been a while.”
He looks up from his conversation with Olivia, his eyes meeting mine, and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
“Hey, Lily,” he replies.
His deep voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“Um, it’s good to see you again. You look…different.” I stumble over my words, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Smooth, Lily, real smooth. I mentally kick myself for the awkwardness of my words.
The two of us stare at each other and I lose my words. It’s been a long time since I last saw him, and the years seem to have etched lines of weariness on his face. He appears guarded, his demeanor a stark contrast to the vibrant memories I have of him from our younger days. But I guess things have changed. We’re not children anymore. We’ve all had to grow up. I’m not sure what to say to him. I have so many questions. What made him move back here? And why now? But I keep quiet. It’s not my business.
Olivia looks between the two of us, her eyes flitting from side to side suspiciously.
“Isn’t Emma quite the performer?” she says with a laugh, gesturing toward my daughter and trying to diffuse the awkwardness.
I nod, grateful for the distraction. “She certainly loves to sing,” I reply, my words falling flat as I struggle with what to say.
Blake’s eyes follow Emma’s energetic performance, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze. “She’s got quite the voice,” he comments, his words making me feel both self-conscious and proud.