I could never, p.1
I Could Never, page 1
First Edition
Copyright © 2023
By Penelope Ward
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Editing: Jessica Royer Ocken
Proofreading and Formatting: Elaine York, Allusion Publishing
Proofreading: Julia Griffis
Cover Photography: Anders Kavin
Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
TABLE OF CONTENTS
* * *
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Newsletter Sign-up
Other Books by Penelope Ward
Acknowledgements
About the Author
To my daughter and my godson—the real-life Scotties
CHAPTER 1
* * *
CARLY
“SO YOU DON’T know exactly what you’re walking into?” my friend Christina asked.
A deer wandered through the trees in the distance. You’re definitely not in L.A. anymore, Carly. It hit me for the first time that there could be bears here. New Hampshire was rural. I shivered.
“I’ve only met Scottie a few times,” I said, shifting the phone to my other ear. “He seemed really sweet. I’m certain taking care of him will be a challenge, though. I won’t know what the heck I’m doing. I’ve never taken care of anyone in my life, let alone a grown man.”
My fiancé, Brad, would’ve been the one looking after his younger brother himself if he could have. But because he was no longer here, I felt it was my responsibility. Scottie was twenty-three and had severe autism. He was nonverbal and, in many ways, childlike. Brad’s father, Wayne, had been Scottie’s sole caretaker until he’d passed away after a heart attack last month. And my beloved Brad had died two years ago in a car accident. For the past few weeks, Scottie had been in the temporary care of Wayne’s sister, Lorraine, who’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with looking after Scottie long term.
Christina sighed. “Are you sure about this? It’s a huge responsibility.”
“It’s what Brad would’ve wanted. There’s no way he would’ve approved of his crazy aunt Lorraine taking care of Scottie. His dad was Scottie’s guardian. Since Lorraine is Wayne’s next of kin, everyone assumed she’d take on the responsibility. But she’s not the right person, and she isn’t interested. Wayne probably wasn’t too worried—he wasn’t even sixty. So there was no plan B besides Lorraine. The first thing she did when I called to check on things was ask if I could come help. She’s planning to sleep back at her own house starting tonight, which means I’ll be alone with Scottie.” I looked over at the house. “Anyway, I have to go. I’ve been parked in front of the house for two minutes already and need to get inside.”
“Okay, well, if you need anything, let me know. I can order stuff and have it shipped to you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that, Christina. But I didn’t go to Mars, just New Hampshire.” I laughed. “It’s only temporary, right? Until I can get him into a group home.” Staring off into the adjacent woods, I muttered, “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Good luck, Carly.”
From the limited research I’d done thus far, I knew the waiting list to get into a supervised adult home could be long, so temporary might actually mean years, for all I knew; though I certainly hoped it would be sooner than that.
Exiting my car, I walked over to the front of the small house. I took a deep breath as I readied myself to knock. The wooden log cabin was modest, to say the least. Brad had grown up here in Woodsboro, New Hampshire, a rural New England town. I’d been here with him a few times to visit his dad and brother, but I’d never imagined I’d be living here.
After I knocked, Lorraine opened the door almost immediately and let out an exasperated breath. “Oh, thank God!” She moved aside for me to enter. “Do you happen to have one of those hot spots?”
No hello? No how are you?
“Nice to see you, too, Lorraine.” I parked my suitcase in a corner and dropped my bag, which made a big thud when it hit the ground.
Scottie was pacing and shaking his tablet around, pointing to the screen.
Lorraine went right on complaining.
“He’s been bouncing off the walls because we don’t have Internet.”
Oh, this is not good. I knew Scottie was totally reliant on his devices. “What’s wrong with the Internet?”
“They think it’s one of the lines outside. They’re not sure how long it will take to fix.”
Scottie continued to walk back and forth nervously. With his blond hair and fine features, he reminded me so much of my Brad—the resemblance took my breath away. It was like seeing Brad again, but in the form of an adult child. Brad had been seven years older than Scottie. Their mom had died of cancer when Brad was eighteen and Scottie was eleven. So life hadn’t been easy for this family for a long while. And Scottie’s profound autism meant that while he could communicate simply with the aid of devices, he didn’t converse or express his feelings verbally. Most of the time, he was in his own world and needed one-on-one care.
I lifted my hand awkwardly to try to get his attention. “Hey, Scottie.”
He practically shoved an iPad into my face and pointed to it as if to say, I don’t care who you are, just get this damn thing working.
“I do have a hot spot,” I said. “I’ll get it running for you.”
Taking out my phone, I scrambled to hook that up. The moment I did, Scottie’s screen came alive, and he logged on to whatever site he’d been dying to access. He quickly settled into a spot on the couch.
I turned to Lorraine. “Doesn’t take much to please him, huh?”
Rather than respond, she grabbed her coat. “Do you have any questions before I leave, hon?”
She’s leaving already? I blinked. “Well, you haven’t given me any instructions. I thought we would sit down so you could tell me what he needs, what he likes to eat…stuff like that.”
“I made a hair appointment thinking you’d be here a half hour ago, so I do need to rush out for now,” she said. “I’m already late, and I don’t want to lose my spot. But there’s not too much to talk about in terms of what to feed him. Wayne used to make him this one kind of chicken. It was our mother’s recipe. It’s the only thing Scottie will eat, but it has to be made very specifically. I’ve written down the instructions for you over there on the counter, and I left you with enough for tonight in a Tupperware in the fridge. Made those cutlets a couple days ago. You’ll have to make more for tomorrow, though.”
I swallowed. I wasn’t the greatest cook to begin with, let alone making chicken from scratch for a picky eater. Lord, help me. This was going to be a disaster. I’d been counting on the idea of being able to order takeout, at least for the first few days until I got my crap together. Guess that won’t be happening. “He doesn’t eat anything else?”
“Only eats that chicken for dinner. And his dessert needs to be lined up just so.” She lifted a photo. “I printed this so you can see how it’s done and also wrote it down on this sticky.”
She handed me the image of a napkin with cookies and other treats arranged in a linear pattern.
“What happens if things aren’t lined up correctly?”
“He gets upset, tosses everything on the floor.”
“Okay.” I gulped. “Well...if the chicken is his dinner, what does he eat during the day?”
“Either more of the same chicken or just crackers and pretzels. His main meal is dinner.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy.” I frowned. “No vegetables?”
“You could try, but I’ve never had any luck. He spits them out.”
I sighed, turning to where Scottie was sitting on the couch, rocking back and forth as he blasted something on YouTube. At least he was content for the time being.
“Anyway, like I said, I’m late for my appointment. First time I’ve had a chance to go since I’ve been staying with Scottie. I’m sure you noticed my roots. You good?”
This woman could not flee the premises fast enough.
“I think so, but can I call you if I have any questions?”
“Of course, swee
I blew out a breath. “Okay.”
Before I could say another thing, Lorraine was gone. It felt like a boulder had been placed on my chest.
Feeling lost, I stood in the middle of the house and looked around as jumbled sounds rang out from Scottie’s electronics. He must have had three different things playing on as many devices.
The décor in here was dark, from the paneling on the walls to the wrinkled, brown leather furniture. There were only two bedrooms in the one-level, log-cabin-style home. I peeked into one of them and immediately recognized it as Scottie’s. There were picture schedules hung up and tons of stickers of cartoon characters I didn’t recognize littering the walls, along with one framed picture of Elton John. Odd.
I smiled at a photo up on the bureau of Scottie with his brother, Brad. My Brad. Looking up at the ceiling, I spoke to my dead fiancé. “I know you would do the same for me. I love you, and I promise to keep him safe until I can find him a good home.”
As if someone up above wanted to challenge me on that, I looked through the doorway into the living room and saw Scottie standing on top of the end table by the couch. The table was dainty, and I doubted it could sustain his weight for very long.
I ran out into the living room. “Whoa! You might want to get down from there, buddy!”
He ignored me. Because he didn’t talk, I couldn’t ask him why he’d decided to do that.
About a minute later, he finally jumped down onto the floor, which caused the entire house to shake. Thankfully, he appeared unscathed. If he’d broken his ankle or something, that would have absolutely sucked. I wiped the sweat off my forehead.
Once Scottie had settled into his seat on the couch again, I went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There wasn’t much inside: the Tupperware that contained the chicken and a few large jugs of cranberry juice. I had to assume that was Scottie’s favorite drink.
I still had so many questions. Would I take him with me to the grocery store, or was it easier to have groceries delivered? What time did he go to bed? Does he need anything to get to sleep at night? Lorraine was going to be getting a ton of questions from me later, whether she liked it or not.
Somehow, I managed to get through the rest of that afternoon. I mainly sat next to Scottie while he watched his videos or while he played with an app that featured a talking cat that spoke back to you. Since Scottie mainly grunted and hummed into the screen, the cat did the same. I tried to interact with it, but Scottie frowned whenever I joined in—he didn’t seem to appreciate my efforts. Pretty sure if he could talk, he’d ask why this dumb bitch had suddenly come to invade his space.
When it was finally time to sit him down to dinner, I tried a few different things to encourage him to leave the couch. Nothing worked until I held up one of the dessert items: an Oreo cookie. He seemed to get the idea and got up to sit at the table in the kitchen.
Scottie immediately picked up one of the pieces of chicken and took a bite. The dessert was lined up just as Lorraine had instructed me to in her note.
Put down one square napkin. At the bottom place two gummy vitamins. Above that, add a cheddar cheese stick. Above that, place four Junior Mints. Then at the very top of the napkin, place two Oreos. His favorite are the double-stuffed.
Thankfully, she’d also left me a shopping list of must-have items.
As Scottie continued to chomp away at the chicken, the doorbell rang.
Hope bloomed in me at the prospect of Lorraine returning. But why would she ring the bell? When I opened, though, my heart skipped a beat as my body filled with dread. Suddenly, this difficult day had gotten a whole lot worse.
What is he doing here?
CHAPTER 2
* * *
CARLY
JOSH MATHERS TOWERED over me, smelling like leather, spice, and a hint of cigarettes mixed with the cold, fall air outside.
“What’s going on?” I blinked. “Why are you here?”
He walked past me into the living room, rolling a black suitcase behind him. “I came to relieve you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll be staying with Scottie,” he said, without making eye contact. “I was already planning on it. But then I heard you were here and put a rush on things.” The jerk finally looked at me with his piercing hazel eyes. “You can go back to La La Land.”
I’d only met Brad’s best friend a few times. And I sort of despised him, even though I didn’t know him very well. But I had a good reason for my disdain. Josh was a player and had been a bad influence on Brad growing up. He was the “wild one” and was always getting the two of them into trouble. I never liked it when Brad went without me to visit Josh in Chicago, either. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Brad. I just never knew what his friend might pull while the two of them were inebriated. Josh Mathers was bad news. The idea of entrusting him to take care of Scottie, therefore, seemed ludicrous.
“Relieve me? I just got here today,” I said. “But either way, I think it’s best for him if I stay.”
“I’m sure they taught you a lot in beauty school about how to take care of grown men?”
Placing my hands on my hips, I huffed. “I’m surprised you even remembered what I do for a living. You certainly never made an effort to get to know me when Brad was alive.”
“Seriously, Carly?” he snapped back. “You think you’re gonna be able to handle him?”
“It’s been fine so far.” I shrugged.
“You’ve been here all of what, a couple of hours? It’s fine until he has a tantrum and you can’t control him.” He gave me a onceover. “He’s three times your size.”
Crossing my arms, I lifted my head high. “Lorraine didn’t say she had any issues handling him, and she’s no bigger than me.”
“She wouldn’t have admitted shit to you if it might have discouraged you from coming. She’s his guardian on paper, but she’s been looking for her ticket out of this responsibility from the moment Wayne died. Did she tell you she had to solicit the neighbor’s help last week to get Scottie off the floor?”
I shook my head.
He nodded. “Abe is a friend of my dad’s and told him he helped out. Lorraine must’ve neglected to mention that to you.”
“Did she ask you to come here?”
“No. Like I said, I’ve been planning to come back out here to take care of things ever since Wayne’s funeral. I just had to tie up some loose ends first.”
“Well, you don’t need to stay. You obviously have a job and a life back in Chicago.”
His eyes narrowed. “And you don’t have a life?”
“I decided to put it on hold. My career is a bit more flexible. I work freelance and only take jobs when I want to.”
As a contract makeup artist, I often worked on television and movie sets back in California. It was on one such set that I’d met Brad, who’d been a writer on a popular sitcom at the time.
“Well, I primarily work remotely anyway,” Josh said. “So it’s not a problem for me to be here.” He glared at me. “It’s what Brad would’ve wanted.”
Moving my shoulders back, I challenged him. “How do you know what Brad would’ve wanted? Did you discuss this scenario with him? Because last I checked, no one expected Wayne to drop dead at sixty years old.”
“We never specifically discussed it, but I mean, come on. You’d only known Brad like what…two years? And maybe met Scottie a few times? Scottie grew up with me around. I’m practically his brother.”
“This is not a competition, but since you seem to be making it into one, don’t you think if Brad was going to marry me, he would have also entrusted me with his brother?”
Josh glared. “Actually, no. He probably knew he could depend on me and didn’t need to specify anything were something to happen. He knew I’d step in.”
I lifted my hands into the air. “Well, I’ve just uprooted my entire life to move here. Drove all the way across the country. I’m not going anywhere.”
Josh glanced at my fingernails. “How exactly do you plan to wipe Scottie’s ass with those claws, by the way?”
I looked down at my lavender-colored stiletto nails. In all honesty, I’d never once thought about having to assist Scottie in the bathroom. I suppose it should’ve dawned on me. But I’d yet to learn everything about what this responsibility entailed. Lorraine had neglected to mention that Scottie wasn’t able to fully take care of himself in that area.
