Summer Son by Anna Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

Harrison’s harness around my shoulders and expertly maneuvered him into it. At first I’d been convinced that the long piece of cloth would never be enough to keep him secure, although time and practice had proved me wrong. These days I could wrap myself—and him—into it with one hand, balancing Harrison close to my chest with the other. He was used to keeping still too, which made it much easier.
    “Will he nap like that?” Zane asked as we headed back to my apartment.
    “He won’t nap at all,” I said. “I’d give my right nut to get him to nap.”
    “I wouldn’t,” Zane said with a smirk. I grinned back.
    “He’s quite content. We’re both used to it. I’ll have to move him into the stroller soon. He’ll be too big to carry around like this.”
    “Don’t you use the stroller at all?”
    “When I have to,” I said. “It’s good for carrying groceries. But I prefer this.”
    This time it was Zane who sought out my hand, and I smiled to myself as we threaded our fingers together.
    “You should bring him down to the center,” Zane said as we wandered along, in no rush, despite the less than great weather.
    “Isn’t he a bit young for that?”
    Zane shrugged. “Maybe. I work with kids who have some pretty severe learning disabilities, though, so I’m sure I can do something similar with a younger child than I’m used to.”
    “Okay. Sounds good.”
    Harrison and I dropped Zane off at his apartment, leaving him with a quick kiss (each) and the promise to talk soon.
     
     
    S INCE HE had classes at the beginning of the week, I didn’t get chance to see Zane again until Thursday. It was weird to realize I’d missed him. We’d sent each other a few text messages through the week, but I didn’t want to distract him from his schoolwork.
    Over the past couple of weeks, Harrison had started to eat more things. I was doggedly persisting with food, even when most of it ended up on the floor or smushed over his face. He got hungry quickly, so I tried to keep snack foods on me at all times. But when I sat him down to eat, he didn’t want to. It was the cause of endless sleepless nights, lying awake and worrying.
    Still, the doctor hadn’t found anything physically wrong with him, so all I could do was not give up and continue to push him to try things. In three days I’d added watermelon, rice pudding, and a new brand of cracker to the things he’d try. That was a lot, for my kid.
    Before we left the house, I tried to get him to eat something—anything—knowing that a hungry baby was a grouchy baby. After nearly thirty minutes of my begging, he finished the jar of baby food and I sighed in relief, then took some Tylenol for my headache.
    Zane had warned me to put him in “old clothes,” or play clothes at the very least, for their afternoon together. Since I had no idea what sort of mess Harrison would be in when he was finished with Zane, I put him in the stroller for the walk up to the arts center.
    I’d looked up the program online that Zane was a part of, and had been surprised and impressed at the work they were doing. It seemed like the perfect balance of child-led and organized activities and covered a broad range of artistic disciplines. They had connections to local schools too, and I made a mental note to ask Zane if he ever worked with school-age kids.
    From the outside, the building still looked like the old church it had been in years past. It had been through several different refurbishments, and I could still remember when it had been a library, when Leo and I were kids.
    There was a stroller parking area set up just inside the door, and I quickly folded mine down to take up less space before wandering through to find Zane.
    There was security—of a type—waiting just inside the main door.
    “Um, I’m not sure if I’m on your list,” I said to the girl, who had long blue hair and a nose ring. “Zane told me to stop by….”
    “Ellis?” she