Read Online As Tears Go By by Lydia Michaels - Free Book Online Page A

CD playing
along as Hunter hummed to the beat.
    Part of
the reason Hunter loved The Stones was because Becca did, but he also liked the
fact that he and Mick were both born on June 26. Hunter emulated the musician
from his dance moves—which were sometimes amusing—to his preference of
instruments. Her son was—in her mind—a genius when it came to the piano, never
needing a single sheet of notes, but he also enjoyed the tambourine, the
harmonica, and the guitar, just like Jagger. The other instruments were
difficult for him, but for some reason the piano seemed to be an extension of
his soul.
    When
they settled in for dinner, Hunter was still chatty. She’d take that over his
silence any day. Carrying over a plate of bacon, she slipped into her chair.
Breakfast for dinner was one of Hunter’s favorites and since Kevin left, she’d
started preparing it once a week.
    Her
son’s motor skills had come a long way. His occupational therapist was great.
Though his motions were broad and his tidiness was not that of a typical
eight-year-old boy’s, he was now capable of feeding himself with a fork and
that made Becca’s life a bit more manageable.
    Nibbling
her eggs, she laughed as Hunter folded and wedged half a pancake into his
mouth. “Fork, please,” she reminded.
    “Sorry,”
he mumbled and chewed.
    “Chew
first, then talk.”
    Forcing
his lips closed as he chewed with exaggerated bites and laughed heartily. He
opened his mouth a minute later. “Gone.”
    “Good.
I have a surprise for you.”
    “What?”
Hunter lunged forward and rocked back.
    “Aunt
Nikki’s taking us to the park this weekend.”
    Hunter
clapped and rolled his head over his shoulders happily. “Tomorrow?”
    “No.
Saturday.”
    “Today’s
Tuesday.”
    “Correct.”
    Hunter
looked at the clock on the wall. “How many hours, Mom?”
    “That’s
you’re department, bud.”
    Glancing
back at the clock, he contorted his fingers as his eyes flinched.
“Seventy-seven hours until Saturday.”
    She
didn’t know how he managed to do such fast math, but it had always been a gift.
Without needing to check, she said, “That’s right.”
    “The
Rolling Stones played in Hyde Park on July sixth two thousand thirteen.”
    “Is
that right?”
    “Mmm.”
    After
dinner she cleaned up the dishes. “Bring your plate over.” When he didn’t
acknowledge her words, she approached him and placed a hand on his right
shoulder, prompting him again. “Can you bring your plate over for me?”
    Hunter
stood. His shoulders rotated as he jerkily walked his plate to the sink. Once
he dropped it in the basin, he went to his Velcro chart and moved the picture
of a place setting to the finished column.
    “What’s
next, bud?”
    He
hummed as he counted down each row of the chart. “Bath!”
    Bath
time was always an experience. Becca was usually given her own shower by the
time it was through. “Why don’t you go listen to two songs on your iPod and
then we’ll take your bath?”
    Hunter
happily obeyed, snatching up his iPod and carrying it to the living room. That
would keep him in a tranquil mood, but Becca was certain it wouldn’t last.
    Five
minutes later, she was finished the dishes and filling the tub. She went to
find Hunter. “Ready, bud?”
    He
appeared to see her, but made no move to acknowledge her presence. Becca placed
her hand on his shoulder. “It’s bath time.”
    He
jerked away and rocked to his music. “Hunter, if you want to go to the park
this weekend we need to have a good week. It’s bath night. You can listen to
your music when you’re done.”
    He
still didn’t relinquish the music. Sighing, she removed the device from his
hands and gently pulled out his earbuds.
    “No!”
    Becca
stepped back. “Hey. Don’t hit me.”
    He
threw his back into the couch, his legs kicking out in protest like a pinwheel.
    “Hunter,
you need to take a bath.”
    He shouted
a moan as he kicked again, knocking his shoe off in the