Mya wanted a career, she wanted to make a difference. Her plans didn’t include being with an NFL football player. And I didn’t want anything that didn’t include her. I wanted roots, a life together. I didn’t want to be thrust into a world of football and fame.
Exiting the gym, I pulled out my cell and scrolled to my dad’s number.
“Asher, this is a surprise,” he said.
“Hey, Dad. I was hoping we could talk.”
“Is everything okay, Son? You sound—”
“Everything’s great. There’s just some stuff I need your help with.”
“Okay.” He took a breath. “You want to talk about it now or should I drive up there?”
“Yeah?” I smiled.
There had been a time when Andrew Bennet was too focused on work to drop everything and come running. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. I hadn’t forgotten the way he’d treated Mya in the early stages of our relationship, or the cold-hearted bastard he’d been growing up, but I had found it within myself to forgive him. He loved Mya. She’d opened his eyes to so much more than a life of hard work and sparkling reputation. Between her and Mom, he was no longer the monster I had grown up with. I’d earned a second chance with Mya, so it seemed only fair, I gave him one.
“Of course, Asher. How about I come this evening? We can go to that quaint little place you took me and your mother last time we visited.”
“The Hideout? Actually, I have somewhere else in mind.”
“Whatever you want. Will Mya be joining us?”
“She has a shift at the center, but she might be able to join us after, if you’re still around.”
“I can always make time for Mya.” I smiled at that. “I’ll see you both later.”
We hung up and I checked my wristwatch.
Only five hours until I could start putting Operation Future into action.
Mya
“It’s good to see you again, Hugo,” I said, sitting down beside him. He was busy coloring in another picture of Swoop, the Eagles mascot. Sally had printed a bunch off for him. It was his favorite activity; one of the only activities he engaged with.
“That looks great,” I added when he didn’t acknowledge me. “I thought we could try something different today. I’m hoping you’ll like it.” I placed the blank cards and envelopes down in front of me. I’d spoken to Sally about my idea and she and Hugo’s social worker were all for it.
He finally lifted his dull brown eyes to mine. “Hi, there,” I said, giving him a soft smile. “Would you like me to tell you about the activity I thought we could do?”
He gave me an imperceptible shrug, but I took it as permission.
Hope unfurled in my stomach. I didn’t want to get overexcited, but this was huge. I gently pushed a card and pen toward him. “So, I know how you love football. Your brothers have been telling me all about it.” I winked and his little brows furrowed. “They said you want to be like Fletcher Cox when you’re older?”
He stared back at me with a blank expression, but I kept going. “I want you to think about football for a minute. I want you to think about the way it makes you feel and why you love it so much, and then, when you’re ready, I want you to write one wish down on the card. It can be anything to do with football, okay?”
Seconds ticked by as Hugo stared at the blank card. I didn’t push. I didn’t speak. I just sat there quietly, waiting. For this to work, he had to engage with the process... he had to own it.
After a few minutes, I was worried he wasn’t going to bite. But then, slowly, Hugo picked up the pen and began drawing. His grip was shaky, the lines messy and unintelligible. But we could figure out the details later. I just needed an idea to work with.
“Finished?” I asked once he’d stopped drawing. He gave me his sad eyes again and nodded. It was a small action, but it was something.
“You did great, Hugo. Do you mind if I take a look?”
He slid the card across to me. Thankfully, I could just make out the football field and huge bird-like man in the center.
My lips curved as I realized what he was telling me. “You’d like to go to the Lincoln Financial Field and meet Swoop, huh?”
Emotion welled inside me. It was something so innocent and pure, it made my heart ache.
“Well, I can’t promise anything,” because that was the number one rule of working with kids—no promises—“but I’m going to see what I can do, okay?”
A flicker of interest passed over his face.
“But you have to do something for me too.”
His expression fell.
“I’m going to put your wish in this envelope and we’re going to keep it over there on that bookcase.” I pointed at shelves across the room. “See.” Taking the pen, I stuffed the card inside the envelope and wrote ‘Hugo’ across the front. “It’s going to stay right there... and when you’re ready to try to make it come true, all you have to do is ask me.”
His eyes widened a little, fear glittering there.
“I know it’s scary,” I spoke gently. “I know you haven’t spoken to anyone in a really long time, but you don’t have to be afraid anymore, okay? The Hansons are a good family. They want you and your brothers to feel safe.
“It doesn’t have to be today or the next time we meet, but I’d really like it, if, one day, you use your voice to ask me for the envelope.”
Hugo studied me, his murky brown eyes fixed on mine. I wanted to know what he was thinking, what he saw when he looked at me. But I knew it wasn’t that simple. In this field, patience was your best friend. Progress was often made in baby steps, and just when you thought you were moving forward, something would happen to set you back again.
“Do you think you can give it a try? I’ll put the envelope over there for safe keeping, and when you’re ready to ask me for it, I’ll be right here waiting.”
Hugo shifted on his chair and I hated that it was because I was pushing him into a state of discomfort. But I’d read up a lot on selective mutism and it often came hand in hand with social anxiety disorder. Overcoming it wasn’t going to be easy, but he was still young. With the right interventions and support, there was no reason why Hugo couldn’t slowly regain his speech and confidence.
But then he looked at me again, and although he didn’t nod, I saw his answer.
Hugo would try.
And I would wait.
Asher
“I’m sorry I missed your dad,” Mya said as we lay in bed.
“It’s okay. Rough night?” She’d gotten home a little after ten.
“I offered to stay and help Sally clean up.”
“Of course you did.” I smiled, stroking her warm skin. “How did it go with the kid?”
“I’m not sure yet. But I’m hoping it’ll reach him.” She snuggled closer. “So what brought your dad to Philly?”
“I wanted to talk to him, and he offered to drive up.”
Mya rolled onto her stomach, gazing up at me. “What did you need to talk to him about?” Her nose scrunched up.
“Things.”