Josh’s two children were also going to be there.
Summer had relented, of course, though other children at the party would make no difference. Teddy didn’t socialize. With anyone. Children or adults or even his own mother.
A man appeared behind Summer, materializing in her peripheral vision. She assessed him instantly, something she’d learned to do out of necessity. He was young, maybe early thirties. Possibly a ranch hand, given his clothes, though, he didn’t look familiar and Summer knew, or knew of, most everyone in their small community.
Whoever he was, he seemed concerned about nothing more than finding the correct aisle for whatever purchases he was making and promptly wandered off. Good thing, because Teddy had started humming, something he did to calm himself when he became nervous or agitated.
“Well, big guy.” Summer smiled down at him. “Let’s find the vanilla extract and get out of here.”
The other ingredients were already nestled in Teddy’s lap. He’d insisted on holding them.
Summer pushed her cart forward, being exceedingly careful not to touch Teddy. He tolerated contact better now than he used to, thanks to the learning center he was enrolled in and his weekly equine therapy sessions. Still, he picked and chose his moments. Summer could never be sure.
Suddenly two grandmotherly women rounded the corner and started down the aisle toward Summer and Teddy. She froze, halting the cart in midstep. The women were also strangers, likely passing through Mustang Valley on their way to or from Payson. Travelers regularly stopped at the market for refreshments.
Don’t talk to us, please. The words were a mantra inside Summer’s head.
Stare. Make judgments. Gossip about us later in your car. I don’t care. Just please, please, please don’t talk to us.
The woman on the left smiled and nodded. In another minute, possibly less, they would be upon Summer and Teddy and want to pass by.
Summer’s grip on the cart handle tightened until her fingers cramped and her knuckles turned white.
Turn around now. Leave us alone.
Surrendering to the pressure building inside her, she started walking backward, taking the cart with her. Hopefully, Teddy hadn’t seen the women. They were behind him, after all.
No such luck. His humming grew louder, and he started banging the heels of his sneakers on the bottom of the cart basket, a sure indicator he’d noticed the women.
Summer moved faster. Glancing back over her shoulder, she spotted Dennis, the store manager. He’d be no help, and besides, Teddy made him uncomfortable.
“I think the vanilla extract’s in the next aisle,” she said cheerfully, knowing full well it wasn’t.
All at once, the two women increased their strides, reaching Summer and Teddy before they made good on their escape.
The smiling one said, “Do you by chance know where the aspirin is?”
“Front of the store,” Summer said. Go away.
Sweat dampened her palms and collected between her breasts. She could feel rivulets forming at her temples.
“Thank you.” It looked as if the two women might turn around.
Before Summer could release even the tiniest sigh of relief, the one on the left stepped to the side of Summer’s cart and looked directly at Teddy.
“Hi there, young man. How are you today?”
He averted his face and cringed, his rocking and humming gaining momentum. The tune wasn’t distinct, rather he repeated the same five notes over and over.
Bang, bang, bang. His heels hit the cart basket harder and harder.
“He’s kind of old to ride in a cart, isn’t he?” The woman’s tone left no doubt of her opinion. “What are you, son? Eight? Nine?”
“Have a good day.” Summer resumed walking backward, intent only on getting to the one open register and escaping the store before Teddy lost control.
“I’m sorry. My sister didn’t mean anything.” The first woman caught up with Summer, her expression going from concern to suspicion. “Are you okay, young man? Is something the matter?”
Before Summer reached the end of the aisle, what she’d been dreading most happened. The woman reached out and touched Teddy, her hand resting on his shoulder.
“Young man?”
His reaction was instantaneous and, at this point, unstoppable. Ear-splitting shrieks erupted and filled the small market. His rocking turned into thrashing. One by one, he threw the items from his lap onto the floor.
Summer reacted without thinking, having experienced this same outburst countless times and as recently as last week. Reaching the open area near the front of the market, she swiveled the cart one hundred and eighty degrees and ran it toward the entrance. The double doors swooshed open in the nick of time. She and Teddy burst outside into the bright July sunshine.
“Miss! Miss.” The woman ran after them.
Summer hurried. Very little time remained before Teddy passed the point of no return and hurt himself or Summer.
The cart bumped wildly as she ran it over the uneven asphalt. Fumbling for her purse at her side, she dug her keys out and pressed the button on the fob that unlocked the car.
As Teddy’s screeching escalated—she hadn’t thought it possible—she wrenched open the rear passenger door. Keeping one eye glued on him, she grabbed a large black cowboy hat off the floor. So far, so good. He wasn’t trying to climb out of the cart.
Anticipating what lay ahead, she drew in a deep breath, steeled her resolve and took hold of Teddy by the waist. Lifting him out of the cart, she quickly deposited him in the booster car seat.
He lost all control, screaming, kicking the back of the driver’s seat and clawing at her. Trying to contain him with one arm, she plunked the hat on his head. At first, he pushed it off but allowed her second attempt. When the brim fell over his eyes and shrouded him in darkness, he began to quiet.
“Miss? Can I help?”
“We’re all right. Thank you,” Summer said firmly. She didn’t look at the woman and focused her attention entirely on Teddy.
“Is there someone I can call?”
Like 9-1-1 to report her for abusing her child? It had happened before.
Teddy’s shrieks and thrashing resumed.
“We’re okay. Really.” Summer tried reasoning with the woman. “My son is easily upset by strangers.”
Can you not see he’s special-needs? Do I have to say autistic?
“Okay,” the woman muttered. “If you’re sure.”
She left—thank God. Summer lowered her head until it was level with Teddy’s and began singing a childhood rhyme in a soft voice.
“The eensie, weensie spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”
He hummed and rocked in rhythm to the melody.
“Up came the sun, and it dried up all the rain. And the eensie, weensie spider went up the spout again.”
Two more times she sang the song. Then, taking a chance, she inched a hand closer and buckled him into his booster seat. Next, she slipped away and started the car, turning the air-conditioning on high. July in Arizona could be counted on for hundred-plus degree temperatures. Teddy, however, seemed impervious to the heat.
In colder weather, she used a quilt to calm her son. He preferred the weight and volume over the lightness of a cowboy hat, but in this heat, he’d smother, so she improvised.
“Better now, sweetie pie?” She