Page 68 of Crying Shame

She relaxed her stiff posture and smiled. “Sports are a good thing for self-esteem, yes, but I think the other children hesitate to make friends with Sam because he doesn’t like to talk about himself.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets. “What do you mean?”

I could see Clarissa watching us from the car as the teacher said, “When he’s asked about his home or family, he avoids answering. I just thought you should be aware.”

I shook her hand. “Thank you.”

She walked over to another student, and I hopped back in the driver’s seat. As I started the car, Sam asked, “What did she tell you?”

I gazed at him through the rearview mirror. “That you don’t like talking about yourself.”

Sam shook his head. “That’s not it.”

Good.At least Sam was willing to talk to his parents. I noticed Clarissa's face had gone white. I asked Sam, “What is it then?”

He sat back. “I know Mom’s scared, and I don’t know how to help her.”

I’d thought things were going well, but a glance at Clarissa's face told me Sam was right. She was scared, and she’d leave if she thought a relationship with me might be doomed.

I focused on the road and told our son, “Your mom needs time. Would you want to talk to a therapist about what happened to you?”

Sam smiled. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do anything to make her happy.”

I had no idea why he spoke like Clarissa wasn’t in the car. I offered my hand to her and waited. “Going to a therapist wouldn't be about making your mom happy, though we both want that. It would be for you to feel… calmer and more relaxed around other kids.”

Clarissa trembled, but she took my hand.

I was able to breathe again.

Sam said, “I don’t need help.”

I needed both of them to feel safe and important. “Clarissa? What do you think?” I asked.

Her lips thinned, and for the next few minutes of the drive, she was silent and unreadable. Then she let out a breath. “I’m going to talk to a therapist, Sam. I think it would be good for you to talk to one too.”

We drove home in silence, but Clarissa and I needed a plan. Getting her to accept we needed to work as a team was the best plan I had to prove to her we were meant to be.

33

Elon

Central Park, New York

Walking with Clarissa over green grass at a park set in the middle of urban life was surreal. Memories surfaced of when we’d been kids and she’d been close to me. We’d walked here before but now followed our son as he and Aurora spoke in awe of the exhibits we’d just visited at the American Museum of Natural History.

Clarissa and I had made no plans about school and Sam yet, but seeing him talk to his cousin was good. He wasn’t completely closed off from other children his age.

And the air was sweeter because I was next to Clarissa. We continued our stroll.

“Sam and Aurora get along," Clarissa said. "Part of me wishes we’d moved to Manhattan so they could go to school together, but I always found the city was too busy.”

“We’ll figure out what to do,” I said.

“I hope so.”

“You seemed happy at work every day this week."

She smiled. “I was. I am. I like doing the schedule for you. I feel valued when I’m organizing.”