Chapter 24

Ford

“Damn it!”

“Should I come in or is there a chance I’ll get a stapler thrown at my head?”

Reagan’s question brings me back from the challenge I’m having with my app for Asperser’s kids. I’m modeling it after the one I did for cerebral palsy, but the disorders are so different, I’m running into multiple snafus. I want to be able to present it to Haylee and ask her and Atlee to move in with me, but it doesn’t seem like my plan’s going to come together how I imagined it in my family fantasy.

“Nah,” I say, beckoning him forward with my hand. “It’s just this new app driving me crazy. I’ll get it. It’s just going to take a few more hours to iron out these bugs I’m finding.”

“What’s it for?” he asks, sitting down across from me and peering at the code I’m re-writing. “Looks like a foreign language to me.”

“Technically, it is. Kind of like your legal jargon is to most thinking people. Marcella was instrumental in designing the last one. Maybe I should call Atlee’s therapist and pick his brain. I’m trying to design the main menu, and a few of the tabs are no brainers but others I’m not sure about.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is complicated.”

My brother grins. “More painful than writing a brief that outlines Dante’s transgressions in a legal sense? Do you know how many Nevada state statues that dude’s violated over the past year?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

I chuckle. “Maybe you win.”

“I really don’t care about the winning part. Only if everyone has a laugh along the journey. I’m doing open mic night at the comedy club Friday. You and Haylee should come. I promise not to heckle you…more than three times.”

“Heckle me?”

“Every comedian has a set of jokes about their family. It’s a rite of passage. Besides, I’m loaded for bear with material. I’ve got one brother who uses a stick to walk, another with one firmly up his own ass, another which uses one to make Shish Kabobs, I’m using mine to poke a sleeping dragon…and there’s you.”

I roll my eyes and wait for the punchline. “What about mine?”

“What?” he asks, all innocence and sparkling eyes. “There are only four sticks. Yours fell into the wood chipper like in Fargo.”

I start whining like a toddler missing nap time. “I want my own stick!”

“Hey, Ford,” Reagan says, standing and stretching his lean body toward the ceiling. “You might be a redneck if you take your dog out for a walk and you both piss on the same stick. Then you pick it up in your mouth and take it home as a souvenir.”

“Okay, maybe I could do without that particular stick,” I say, chuckling. Reagan always has a way of lightening even my blackest mood. I’ve missed him. Hell, I’ve missed everybody, even Nixon. I’m so glad I’m back here in Vegas starting my second chance.

Reagan looks back over his shoulder one time. “Why did the cat hiss at your stick?”

I can’t believe I’m falling for it. “Why?”

“Because its bark was worse than its bite.”

I shut my eyes against the stupidity of it but can’t stop a random laugh from escaping which just makes him puff out his chest like he’s morphed into a refugee from Eddie Murphy’s Delirious video. I half expect him to produce a dead bird from the inner pocket of his suit and say he’s gonna put it on me.

“Hey, Haylee. How’s life?”

They pass in the hallway, and I hear a bit of small talk going on before she enters my office and takes all the pain and frustration away with one smile and a cloud of that lemony scent that belongs only to her. It’s going to linger all afternoon, which means I’m going to have a hard-on until I can get out of here for the day.

“Hi,” she says, her voice breathy and raspy. It sounds like she’s been thinking about naughty things, and I hope they’re fantasies starring me.

“Hi, yourself. To what do I owe the pleasure of a personal visit?”

She flushes this delectable shade of freshly fucked pink and I stare. Something about her tugs at my heart, and I can’t stop drinking her in with my eyes. The sight of her soothes me and touches a place deep inside, making my frustrations just fade away. I can hardly believe that I sacrificed a whole shitload of things I wanted for something that couldn’t even hold a candle to having Haylee and Atlee.

“It’s John.”

“You’ve already decided I’m not enough for you, and you need to throw me over for another man,” I say, leaning back and tenting my hands in front of me. I know John is Atlee’s therapist, and I also know Dante’s got the Nevada Board of Health in his back pocket. His ire and immaturity is responsible for Atlee losing John. Just one more reason to hate his greasy guts.

She smiles, and it nearly takes my breath away. It’s like she picks up on my mood like a seismometer picking up shudders in the tectonic plates.

“I’m afraid Atlee will suffer if John leaves and goes to work for that specialty clinic in California. They’ve been together for three years. Ford, you don’t even understand. She’s not the same little girl she was back then. She used to have tantrums, lash out all the time. I couldn’t control her enough to take her anywhere but therapy and school. John’s made all the difference. So…I guess I’m here throwing myself on your mercy. Is there any way you could entice him to stay?”

I look down at the code I’m writing and the feeble attempt at prioritization from a man who clearly isn’t in the medical field. A grin touches my lips, tugging them upward. Boy, do I have a new job for John. I don’t even ask Nixon about it because I plan on putting John on my own payroll. I’ve got the needs, and I’ve got the funds. Done deal.

“He can help me with the development of the new app,” I say, pointing down at my code. “It’s been giving me troubles, and I could really use an expert to help me prioritize all the things I want to do. I need to know what should be in the initial release and what can wait until later and be done as enhancements on down the road. Have him call me. He can start Monday. Once he’s done with that, we can use him as our in-house therapist until Marcella graduates from her program.”

She jumps up, and she’s around my desk and in my lap before I can blink. “Ford, that makes me so happy!” I snuggle her down on my semi, and her eyes grow wide as she stares at the open door.

“If you hadn’t flung yourself at me so quickly, I would have told you to lock it so I can do this,” I say, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that escalates more than I want it to since we’re not alone. My tongue teases the seam of her full lips, and she opens on a sigh, allowing me greater access to plunder the warm recesses of her mouth. I drink in her taste. Her heat. Everything. There’s nothing but Haylee in my mind and heart.

“Ah—”

I sigh and look over at my brother. “Your timing’s impeccable per usual. What do you want, Nixon?”

My brother actually blushes and looks down at the plush carpet. I can’t believe I’ve managed to flap the unflappable with a simple office lip lock. Haylee doesn’t move from her new seat, just puts her arms around my neck and stares at him too.

“I met Reagan in the hallway, and he wanted me to tell you something.”

“He must have forgotten it when he was here earlier bragging about his position as the star of our family. Shoot.”

Nixon doesn’t even crack a smile. “Knock knock.”

Haylee smiles and claps her hands together like a little girl about to get a lollipop for good behavior. This is going to go south in a hurry. Nixon possesses about as much sense of humor as a dead skunk in the middle of the road, stinking to high heaven.

“Who’s there?” she asks, leaning forward.

“Lumberjack.”

“Lumberjack who?”

“Leaf me alone. I wooden know where Ford’s stick is.”

Haylee’s laugh streams around us like joyful bits of confetti falling from the atmosphere. All I can manage is a pathetic eye roll. The only indication Nix gives is a slight tug at the corners of his mouth. My phone buzzes on the desk.

“Hmm...” I pick it up and flash the screen at my brother. “It appears the devil’s calling. He’s probably going to tell us that it’s frostier than a penguin’s ass crack down there because Nixon Caldwell made a funny.”

“I thought it was pretty good,” Nixon says, his grin turning into a full-blown smile right along with Haylee’s. It would seem that smiles are contagious, kind of like yawns.

“You know, Nix. If you didn’t indulge Reagan with this night gig, he’d be forced to keep his day job. Rein him in, won’t you?”

Nixon shakes his head and holds up one finger. “No way. If he didn’t have an appropriate outlet for his brand of comic relief, do you know how bad he’d be? I couldn’t handle it. There’d be so damn many stupid one-liners and practical jokes around here, the Armónico would resemble a three-ring circus, and the ringmaster would be wearing Gucci custom and quoting Gideon v. Wainwright.”

I laugh and nod, giving him a short salute as he leaves. “You’re probably right.”

Haylee stands and heads toward the door, calling back over her shoulder, “I’ll have John call you to work out the logistics. Ford, I’m really, really happy. This is the right thing to do. I know it is.”

My heart skips in my chest as I open my mouth to say what I need to say next. “Haylee, there’s another reason I want to hire John.”

She turns back, her head tilted in interest. “Why’s that?”

“Well, as I’ve been building this app on Asperger’s, I’ve become an expert on the signs and symptoms, and I think I know why Atlee has the disorder.” I swallow hard. “It’s me. She got it from me, Haylee.” I blink, feeling the emotion swamp my face. “It’s one of the reasons why I run in difficult situations. Why I…”

Prefer to be alone. Can stare at code from hours on end. Have difficulty with relationships.

“When I started reading about it, I knew it was me,” I finish miserably. “It also falls in line with the results to some cutting edge genetic testing I had done a while back. They haven’t isolated the autism gene yet, but there are other markers. My genius doctor friend told me to consider it when I start my own family.”

Haylee comes back and sits on my lap again, wrapping her arms around me tight. “You’re perfect, just like Atlee is perfect, and we’ll work through this together. Us three and any other equally perfect soul that decides to bless us with their presence on down the line.”

After she leaves, Nix comes back into my office and sits down across from me, and I realize this is going to be one of those days where I work my social game and don’t get anything constructive done around app development. So much for launching my app on time. In the tech world, time is money.

“Who’s John?”

I look at my brother, realizing he must have heard some of mine and Haylee’s conversation. I try to push back the frustration rippling through my mind at the thought of not getting this life-changing app up, running, and out the door. Kids with disabilities are counting on me. Taking a deep breath, I know I’m going to have to confront the reality that just slapped me in the face. John’s coming on board at my expense, but my heart’s telling me to push forward.

John will help Atlee and Linc — and me — and the app will help everyone else that the clinic unfortunately displaced from regular occupational therapy.

After I fill in Nix, he completely agrees.