Connections Read Online Free

And that must make it all the harder for her to bear, doing it alone. The few times she had started to complain or just to talk about Clifford in the past three, maybe four years, he had cut her off with a reminder that he felt the best place for Clifford was a special home or boarding school. So they didn’t discuss it anymore, because neither of them would give in, and Jessica sensed that any comment about her frustration or the futility would open up the subject again.
    “Haven’t you got enough work to do around here, taking care of him?” He thumbed the Menu button to get out of the Times and pointed his iPad in Clifford’s direction before snapping the cover closed and putting it on the table.
    “It won’t be that much work. Especially if we get an older one who’s housebroken.”
    “Who’s going to walk it three or four times a day? You? You’re going to get all dressed in the wintertime and go out in the cold with a dog? Before you fix breakfast?”
    “If I don’t mind, why should you? I’m not asking you to help or take it out.”
    “But it’s still a big imposition. Having another helpless thing around…Oh, God, Jessica, I’m sorry.” Lenny put his head in his hands and rubbed his forehead, as if the rubbing would erase the hurt, calling their child a thing.
    “Listen, it’s okay.” Jessica came over and sat next to her husband, pulling his hands away from his face. “Even with old people it seems to work. There was something on TV last week. About bringing puppies and kittens into a nursing home once a week. The people looked forward to it. People who hadn’t spoken to anyone or participated in anything for years. The pictures were so touching—elderly women holding out their arms for them. Their faces just lit up as they held them in their laps or stroked them.”
    “It’s different, Jess. They’re old, not sick. Not mentally incapable.”
    “Some of them are. Some of them are senile. Or have Alzheimer’s. They find the patients feel more comfortable, more open and communicative. And they’re doing some wonderful experiments with autistic children.” Jessica spoke faster in her enthusiasm to convince him. “And what Clifford has is a lot like autism. There were a few cases that when they got a dog in the house, for the first time the child actually responded . Reacted to another living thing. Even Dr. Kravitz said it’s worth—”
    “Jessica”—Lenny took his hand from her lap and touched her soft blonde curls—“enough. You’re the one who’s doing everything. If you want to try it, well, okay. I suppose I could even take the late shift for walking.”
    “Oh, Len.” She threw her arms around him. Just as her weight sagged against his chest, a frightened wail from Clifford’s room made her jump up and go to her son.

Chapter 10
    Jason clicked the shutter of his mental camera to save the scene of the sanitation truck pulling alongside one of its pails, with a bag lady bent deep into it. A burly garbage man grabbed the metal rim in his gloved hands and, for a minute, Jason thought the woman was going to jump inside for a ride to the jaws at the back of the truck.
    He turned onto Columbus Avenue, consciously inhaling the scent of spring, along with the aroma of toasting rolls and perking coffee. He stopped in a hamburger place for breakfast, skimming the News as he sipped his coffee. The clatter of the thick cups and plates behind the counter, the sizzle of bacon on the grill, the squeal of brakes outside, the rumble of cars dipping into the huge pothole on the corner—all soothed Jason’s nerves. He loved the West Side and was sorry he hadn’t moved here years ago instead of only last summer.
    Back in the 30s, it was the place to live in Manhattan, even though the Depression had changed it all. Most of the comfortable middle class had moved out of the area or jumped out of its windows, but he remembered hearing stories about his family’s seven-room apartment