children who have Asperger’s . . . I’ve seen it up close, and I’ve also had the chance to meet a number of the adults my professor had interviewed.” She knelt in front of me, reaching out to touch my arm. “Your father is very similar to a couple of them.”
I think I already knew what she was getting at, but for whatever reason, I wanted her to say it directly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded, forcing myself not to pull away.
Her answer was slow in coming. “I think your father might have Asperger’s.”
“My dad isn’t retarded. . . .”
“I didn’t say that,” she said. “Asperger’s is a developmental disorder.”
“I don’t care what it is,” I said, my voice rising. “My dad doesn’t have it. He raised me, he works, he pays his bills. He was married once.”
“You can have Asperger’s and still function. . . .”
As she spoke, I flashed on something she had said earlier. “Wait,” I said, trying to remember how she’d phrased it and feeling my mouth go dry. “Earlier, you said you think my dad did a wonderful job in raising me.”
“Yeah,” she said, “and I mean that. . . .”
My jaw tightened as I figured out what she was really saying, and I stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. “But it’s because you think he’s like Rain Man. That considering his problem, he did a good job.”
“No . . . you don’t understand. There’s a spectrum of Asperger’s, from mild to severe—”
I barely heard her. “And you respect him for the same reason. But it’s not as if you really liked him.”
“No, wait—”
I pulled away and got to my feet. Suddenly needing space, I walked to the railing opposite her. I thought of her continual requests to visit with him . . . not because she wanted to spend time with him. Because she wanted to study him.
My stomach knotted, and I faced her. “That’s why you came over, isn’t it.”
“What—”
“Not because you liked him, but because you wanted to know if you were right.”
“No—”
“Stop lying!” I shouted.
“I’m not lying!”
“You were sitting there with him, pretending to be interested in his coins, but in reality you were evaluating him like some monkey in a cage.”
“It wasn’t like that!” she said, rising to her feet. “I respect your dad—”
“Because you think he’s got problems and overcame them,” I snarled, finishing for her. “Yeah, I get it.”
“No, you’re wrong. I like your dad. . . .”
“Which is why you ran your little experiment, right?” My expression was hard. “See, I must have forgotten that when you like someone, you do things like that. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
She shook her head. “No!” For the first time, she seemed to question what she’d done, and her lip began to quiver. When she spoke again, her voice trembled. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. But I just wanted you to understand him.”
“Why?” I said, taking a step toward her. I could feel my muscles tensing. “I understand him fine. I grew up with him, remember? I lived with him.”
“I was trying to help,” she said, eyes downcast. “I just wanted you to be able to relate to him.”
“I didn’t ask for your help. I don’t want your help. And why is it any of your damn business, anyway?”
She turned away and swiped at a tear. “It’s not,” she said. Her voice was almost inaudible. “I thought you’d want to know.”
“Know what?” I demanded. “That you think something’s wrong with him? That I shouldn’t expect to have a normal relationship with him? That I have to talk about coins if I want to talk to him at all?”
I didn’t hide the anger in my voice, and from the corner of my eyes, I saw a couple of fishermen turn our way. My gaze kept them from coming closer, which was probably a good thing. As we stared at each other, I didn’t expect Savannah to answer, and frankly, I didn’t want her to. I was still trying to get my mind around the fact that the hours she had spent with my dad were nothing but a charade.
“Maybe,” she whispered.
I blinked, unsure that she’d said what I thought she had. “What?”
“You heard me.” She gave a small shrug. “Maybe that’s the only thing you’ll ever talk about with your father. It might be all he can do.”
I felt my hands clench into fists. “So you’re saying it’s all up