Part 7: Chapter 7

Paul's Books

Photo by Kimberly Farmer on Unsplash

Monday, August 3, 2020
	Paul, wearing a huge backpack on his back, walks by with Leche this evening. Steve and I are sitting in the front yard enjoying the semi-cool of the late afternoon. It is spider and crow and wasp and Japanese beetle weather. In the early mornings, when I take my walks, I gather string after silky string of spider webs across my face and shoulders. They seem to anchor their webs to thin air. In the late afternoon, the Japanese beetles come bumbling through our yard to eat our figs. In the front yard, the wasps make nests in the eves.
	Our garden is coming along nicely. Fruit is setting on the green bean bushes and the cucumber and melon vines that we planted in May. The carrots were not a success. The children pulled them out too early and when they found the carrots too small, they tried replanting them. I discover the withered tops later. 
	The August heat inflates the zucchinis at an incredible rate. Found a zucchini the size of a whiffle-ball bat the other day. Auntie Bev said she’d shred it and bake it into mini zucchini loaves for the neighbors. Tomatoes also are red and ripe. These were volunteers from last year and aren’t as sweet, but the children pick them off and eat them, or they pop them between their fingers and laugh at the mess they make. 
	This evening, the children are playing on the slip-n-slide. Rather, Opal is sliding down on her belly while Theo is trying to shore up the sides of the built-in splash pool at the end. Johnny is watching and occasionally sticking his hands into the streams of water emitting from the tiny holes down the side of the run. I have taken Johnny's pacifiers away during the day and so far have seen no improvement in his verbal development.
	A few weeks ago the speech therapy people called and while I took down their information and thanked them, I had no intention of ordering speech therapy until Dianne told me about how her youngest, Xavier, had speech therapy when he was little. This seems to break the ice for me. What have we got to lose? They will assess Johnny and tell me what they think. And if Johnny gets therapy, it’s free babysitting a few times a week until Johnny turns three.
	As the children are playing, and Steve and I are drinking iced coffee in the shade of our porch, Paul marches up our porch steps where he plops his heavy backpack onto our outdoor table. His gray athletic shirt is spotted with sweat from his exertions. The children spy Leche sitting obediently at the foot of the steps. The dog looks at the water slide but stays by Paul’s side. Paul has trained her well thanks to Cesar Millan. The children continue to play but warily.