We’d saved for this summer vacation for almost a year so we could spend four days at a nice beachfront hotel.
« Mom, I can smell the pool! I can smell it! » Noah exclaimed.
« I know, buddy. We’re almost there. »
My shoulders finally relaxed.
Noah was already reaching into his backpack for his swim goggles, checking them the way he always did before something important. Twice on the left strap, once on the right. His humming started, that soft, steady tune his therapist had taught him when the world felt too loud.
While Jonathan handled check-in, I noticed a woman at the next counter, her sunglasses perched on her head and her designer sandals tapping against the marble floor.
His humming started.
« I was promised a premium experience, » the woman said, loud enough that a bellhop turned. « Do you understand what platinum status means at this brand? Do you? »
