Page 89 of Keepsake

I waited for the elevator, talking to Lachlan without waiting for a reply, like I always did. A few people said hello, looking down at the boy like he was a wild animal. I’d laugh if they weren’t looking at me in the same way.

Maybe I looked different. My hair was down. Lachlan managed to take the hair tie out of my hair and I never found it again. I was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a jacket. I bet they didn’t even recognize me.

Without stopping to talk, I went straight to my floor, sending a hello to our receptionist Heidi. “I’m just popping in for a second, ok?”

Lachlan and I headed to my office, closing the door behind me.

“Now, buddy, this won’t take long.”

I got him paper and a couple of crayons I usually kept in my bag for emergencies like this.

“Only on paper, ok?” I said, holding the yellow crayon out.

“Ok,” he replied, making me smile.

He was talking more each day. Dr. Maya said selective mutism came from anxiety and even though he was able to talk before, now he physically had trouble overcoming his fear.

I could understand that. He was only little, and more had happened to him than to most adults. I understood why he felt too anxious to talk, and to be honest, I didn’t mind.

I wanted him to feel safe, first and foremost. Dr. Maya said it was important to include him in the conversation, so babbling non-stop was quite literally what the doctor ordered, good for me.

He laughed more. He responded more, even if it was with a nod of his head or by squeezing my hand.

And he was now being disobedient. Drawing on walls for crying out loud.

For a child that a few weeks ago only curled up on his big brother’s lap and refused to engage with the world, I’d take his drawing on my walls every day of the week.

I brushed his soft hair out of his face with a smile, and then turned to my computer, letting him play at peace.

On my third email reply, Godwick senior opened the door saying the obligatory, “Knock, knock?”

“Come in,” I said, pressing send on the email before smiling at him.

“So this is the little man who stole our brilliant Logan?”

“No one stole me. I’ll be back after—”

“After your maternity leave.” He nodded, not noticing my wince when he called it that.

“This is Lachlan.” I changed the subject.

My little guy didn’t look up from his page, but that was ok. I knew he wasn’t very interested in meeting new people. He was cute as a button. People tried to talk to him every time we went for groceries, but he barely acknowledged them.

“Are you thinking of coming back earlier?” my boss asked, giving up on Lachlan.

“No.” I chuckled. “But I thought I could check on a few things.”

“Nelson is taking care of your clients.”

I tried to hide the contempt I felt for Nelson. He was a big guy, full of smiles and good at golf. If you asked me, he didn’t deserve the clients he had. Much less mine.

Holding my tongue, I nodded. “I just want them to know I’m not abandoning ship.”

Being a woman in business was shit. Everyone assumed I gave everything up to be a mom now. Not that I didn’t love my days with Lachlan and the kids. I did. I knew we needed all the weeks I had off to strengthen our bond and create a home together, but I was allowed to want both. I happened to want it all.

I chatted with Godwick a little longer and finished replying to my emails right on time when Lachlan was done drawing and ready to go.

When we picked up Vienna from drama, she promptly told me everything that happened at school, not leaving room for silence. She loved her new class.

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