Red House: Part Nine

Read Part One
Read Part Two
Read Part Three
Read Part Four
Read Part Five
Read Part Six
Read Part Seven

Read Part Eight

The one thing The Princess is obviously not happy about right now is this life jacket business.  All she wants is to get this thing off of her, and the three stupid grown-ups in the boat won’t allow it.  As we idle away from the dock, she fights with everything she has to get out of that life jacket.

We’re doing our best to explain, of course.  Unfortunately, this seems to be one of those abstract concepts that just can’t translate between me and my non-verbal girl.  Trapping her in a bear hug, I whisper in her ear that she is going to love this.

Am I confident?  Hell, no.  Does she know that?  Not if I can help it.

On my signal, Umpa hits the throttle and the boat goes up on plane.  There is a terrifying moment in which I can’t see The Princess’s face, and I’m almost sick with worry that this will be too much for her.

Over the last few years, The Hubbs and I have made so many tiny adjustments to the way that we do things.  One by one, the adjustments seem miniscule.  Put them together, though, and it's something akin to a mountain of sand.  It all revolves around The Princess or – more accurately – her invisible friend: autism.  A laid-back person by nature, I am much more in tune with every little aspect of my surroundings, constantly scanning for anything that could threaten her peace.  I miss a lot of things along the way, but my greatest fear is that I’m trying to control too much.

Because, even though I can’t see her face, I can feel her arms flapping against me.  And I can hear her squeal in delight.  She begins to bounce in my lap, and I can see her cheeks pushed out in a gigantic grin, even from my post behind her.  She loves it.

And the fruit snacks are pinned between my leg and the seat, forgotten and flapping in the wind.

Stay tuned for Part Ten.