A broken marriage.
A new job.
She works as a Personal Assistant on the ForNoah Youtube channel.
Noah is on the autistic spectrum and she fixes things for him.
He's a shipwright and creates beautiful works of art.
She's a woman starting over who meet...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"My turn, my turn," Little Man urged his sister to let him read the next sentence in the story. Sim leans over to Ade, giving him a better view of the book. He reads out the sentence, tripping over the words. It was the second time we read the book this month. He fights to the end like a pro, then smiles and looks at me. I catch his eyes and smile back at him. Closing the lid on my laptop.
"Let Sim read the rest until sleep time, ok Little Man?" He nods and goes under the covers, pulling them up. His cape hangs above his head on his side of the bed. Ade is rarely without his cape if he can help it. Although, his father never warmed up to it. I always thought the cape was such a center of strength for a boy the world might want to be someone else. Yet, at the same time, he hangs on to be the type of boy I am so damn proud to have had. Kindness in men is underrated and so unwelcome in adult men. But Little Man seems to be staying a well of kindness. I hope he takes that into adulthood.
Next to the cape is a space and stars painted on canvas. Last year, Noah helped them paint it. We made it because Sim missed her bedroom with the star system painted all over her walls. She loves space and when we sold the house because of the divorce, the wall painting couldn't come with us. Space Girl reads through the book, moving through it without any trouble. The small one-room apartment wasn't much, but it was ours.
In this quiet moment together, I think it was all worth it. Leaving Noah and the house. I gained stability for my kids and myself. But even with the newfound stability, life without Noah is so lonely at the same time. I shift my papers and laptop to the couch where I sleep. Then I head back to the bed and sit on the side of it, shifting the covers to cover a nearly asleep Ade.
"The rabbit was ruuood." ..."rooud," she turns the word over repeatedly, fumbling with it. Her gap-tooth smile while reading turns into a frown with each stab at the word.
I lean over to the book and read the sentence for her. "The rabbit was rude." Sim looks at me with the iciest of side-eye. But that frustration was mostly directed at herself. Sim frowned again and kept reading. Her words aren't as smooth as she makes sure everything is perfect. As if that small lack of perfection ruined it all and she didn't want it to happen twice.
Sim is trying to be perfect, and it reminds me of my husband. Oh, Spacegirl... I have to head that off. She doesn't need to be perfect. No matter how perfect you try to be. It's a cycle of never being perfect enough.
As Sim gets more tired, I take the book from her sleepy hands, taking over the story for her. When both of them are quiet, a kiss on the top of her head.
"Good Night."
A/n: I think I will be posting again very soon before the normal Sat. post. I've been rushing the edits on the next post. So, hopefully, it will work out. It's mini ice cream and brownies edit. If you are an old-time reader you'll get it.
Ps. that song is insanely good. In that quiet kind way.
