Uneven Read online

  T.A. Tieri

  UNEVEN

  It may seem “normal” to you, but it’s an “ASD miracle” to Bradley…

  First published by Tiwa Adetoye 2022

  Copyright © 2022 by T.A. Tieri

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  T.A. Tieri asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Unless otherwise indicated, scripture quotations are taken from the The New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. All rights reserved.

  Scripture quotations marked MSG are taken from the The Message: The Bible in Contemporary Language, by Peterson, Eugene H. NavPress, 2002. All rights reserved.

  Tieri, T.A.

  UNEVEN: a novel/fiction

  First Editions—eBook & Paperback, published July 2022

  Edited by Alison Imbriaco

  Cover Design by Liam Relph

  Author’s Photo by Kelly Wilkinson

  Visit website at www.tiwaadetoye.com

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

  Find out more at reedsy.com

  Dedication

  To David, in blessed memory, and Benjamin. I love you.

  “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

  Matthew 11:28-30 (NKJV)

  Contents

  Praises for UNEVEN

  Prologue

  I. A DAY AT A TIME.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  II. CHOICES. CHANCES. CHANGES.

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  III. PERFECTLY IMPERFECT.

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgment

  About the Author

  Praises for UNEVEN

  A beautiful story about daring to believe in your dreams and the unlimited blessings God has for us regardless of what you’ve been through. A must read!

  — Marshawn Evans Daniels, The Godfidence® Coach, Best-Selling Author, believe BIGGER

  Uneven, an intriguing story of an autistic young man navigating the world of love, independence, loss, and hope. This book shows us that the same God over all, is rich to all that trust Him and depend on Him.

  You can’t help but love Bradley. You feel his struggle, cry along in his pain, and rejoice in the hope that it will turn out right at the end. It’s obvious this is not the end of the story as T.A. Tieri leaves you yearning for more. Uneven is definitely a story everyone should read.

  — Abimbola Davids, Co-Pastor, Global Impact Church, Nigeria, Speaker, Author and President & founder of The women of worth foundation.

  T.A. Tieri’s Uneven reminds us that even when we don’t look and talk the same, the deepest emotions still tie us together. It presents a nuanced and layered lead character whose neurodiversity is just one part of his identity and not the entirety of his life. We very rarely get to see the fullness of characters beyond a diagnosis and this book will surely change the way you connect with people moving forward.

  This is a wonderful story from a first-time author and definitely one I’d recommend for your reading list.

  — Afua Osei, Speaker and Entrepreneur, Forbes 20 youngest power women in Africa, 2014

  Uneven tells the story of all of us. Navigating this world the way we know how, with our skills or lack of, hoping it turns out well by the grace of God. If I didn’t know, I would think it was a Karen Kingsbury novel.

  — Adun, M.D, advance copy reader, Canada

  T.A. Tieri’s Uneven is anything but—this novel is an elegant meditation on asymmetry in our relationships with others, ourselves, and our world. Her compassion for her characters and curiosity about the obstacles they face shines through every page. Tieri’s vision cuts through challenging topics like gems until they catch an unexpected light.

  — Molly McGinnis, featured writer in the Grace and Gravity literary series

  I did not know much about ASD, or its effects on a person, but experiencing it through the eyes of Bradley has helped me put it to a different perspective. This book kept me engaged throughout the entire story, and I could not stop rooting for the characters.

  — Andrew Kim, advance copy reader, USA

  Wonderful story! I was so engaged with Uneven that it was hard to stop reading. It will open your eyes to the challenges that autism brings, but also warm your heart to know that the love of others, along with other factors, can help conquer them and promote a successful life.

  — Christy Young, Home school Mom, and yelp elite, USA

  Uneven is a riveting story that teaches the values of trust, faith, and perseverance. A perfect companion on that long flight, your leisure time or at home.

  — Omolara Cole, Fashion Business Entrepreneur, Nigeria

  The experience of reading Uneven was inspiring. I found it reassuring and enlightening, as it highlights some of the complexities of living with a neurodevelopmental disorder, dealing with grief, friendship, and above all, faith, hope and love.

  — Benedicta Dzandu, Ghanaian book reviewer

  Prologue

  “Just great!” he muttered, his fist clenched. Like he needed a reason to spend more time at the Denver International Airport. The voice on the intercom had just announced a two-hour delay of his connecting flight from California to North Carolina. The weather report had indicated inclement weather in North Carolina, and the airline wanted to wait it out, or approach with caution. The months of December and January were usually the worst times to travel when so many people, including him, felt a need to be with family for the holidays. He didn’t even have anyone to share his frustration since his best friend of almost twenty years had been unable to join him on the trip this year because of the workload from school. Being a second-year student at the community college at age twenty-seven, in addition to having a full-time job, wasn’t child’s play.

  He was headed to the guest lounge when he saw a petite black woman with golden-brown skin, struggling to pull her oversize luggage across a floor break. His instinct was to go help her, but it seemed his legs wouldn’t move until he had rehearsed his lines in his head.

  “Hi, there. May I give you a hand with that?” He stepped beside her and inclined his head as he offered gently.

  “Oh, yes, please. Thank you,” she responded, panting slightly. Others had carried on as if she were invisible, even the airport staff members. Oh well, no one owed her anything, so all was well with the world. Once he had her luggage on even ground, he stretched out his hand for a handshake.

  “Hi, again.” he said with a smile.

  “Hi…um, hello.” She shook his hand. His palm was soft and warm.

  “Thank you, again. I was hurrying to catch my connecting flight, but it seems I’ve missed it anyway. I did not anticipate a tedious luggage-check process, and the next available flight is not for another four hours.” Her words t
umbled out as she struggled to catch her breath.

  He studied her tired face. Even though some of her now-loose hair had fallen across her face, he could see her eyes and thought she looked like she was about to tear up.

  “My flight was delayed by about two hours. Care to join me at the VIP lounge? I hear the throw pillows are soft and the drinks taste better.” He pressed his lips together and raised his brows invitingly, while he prayed silently that she would accept his invitation.

  She couldn’t trust her voice to not convey her queasiness, so she simply nodded. He smiled at her and led the way, wheeling her luggage for her. His suitcase was significantly smaller than hers, and he had his laptop bag hung on the handle.

  A gorgeous gentleman with kind eyes and soft palms; that’s rare! she thought. Clearly he made an effort to be neat, from his shiny black hair to his manicured fingernails and clean-shaven chiseled jawline. His checked blue-and-white shirt and dark blue jeans seemed to have been made just for him.

  “Two guest cards, please.” He handed over his credit card from his wallet to pay because he was not a member and was careful to make sure his driver’s license was not visible to her. But two hours was definitely too long for him to sit uncomfortably.

  She was suddenly conscious of herself and quickly undid her bun and ran her fingers through her long and wavy hair, not minding that some strands on her face still refused to fall in place. She hurriedly reapplied her now-dry light-pink lipstick and attempted to straighten the knee-length dress—red with black medium-sized polka dots—underneath her long black jacket. Thankfully the lower half of her dress was ruched to the left with frills at the ends so it could have been smooth or wrinkled.

  He was right. The throw pillows were soft against her back on the lounge sofa. She had never been in the VIP lounge of an airport before. Both of the times she flew first class with her former boss, they had been running late and had boarded immediately.

  A waiter brought them their orders—a vodka cocktail with an olive for her and a glass of fresh apple juice and a bottle of water for him. A few minutes later, accompanying finger food arrived.

  “Feeling better yet?” he asked after they had both taken sips of their drinks.

  “Yes, thank you. Flight schedules fluctuate a lot during these periods. But I am surprised going out of town could still be heavily booked in January. Are you from around here?”

  “I stay in North Carolina. I went to California for the holidays.”

  “Really? Although I am flying in from Toronto—I attended a friend’s wedding, I moved to Chapel Hill in North Carolina about the middle of last year with my mom and her new husband. I love the weather thus far and the community and work opportunities available. I currently work in an art gallery as an executive, so I get to meet new faces every now and then.” She stopped suddenly when she realized she had rambled on, and he had barely said anything other than nod and listen intently. She usually wasn’t that open with strangers, but he felt so warm and inviting. She sipped her drink and decided there was probably no harm, since they were most likely not going to see each other again. And stalkers or killers were probably not nice enough to help women in distress with their luggage at an airport and pay for their use of the VIP lounge. His strides had been calm and purposeful, nothing to set off her danger alarm. To top it all, he had two dimples when he smiled. One black man, two dimples! Just her luck.

  He was intrigued by her free spirit. Her eyes were interesting to look into, and even though he’d been taught staring was rude, he found himself unable to tear his gaze from them. As he helped her out of her long jacket before they sat, he’d been sharply aware that she was the most perfectly shaped woman he had ever met. She had let down her thick dark-brown hair, and though it fell around her shoulders, he noticed her long neck. She wore simple silver teardrop earrings and no necklace, so naturally, he also noticed the low-cut neckline of her dress. It draped a little loosely on her frame, held by the thin straps on her slender shoulders.

  Red was definitely her color. Or one of her colors. Her waist was small, but her hips were full and curvy, with the frills on her dress drawing attention to them even more, and the jacket had done a great job hiding her pear-shaped self. He concluded she probably wasn’t big on accessories as the only other jewelry she had on was her silver wristwatch. Her black open-toe heels added a few inches to her petite height, but he still towered over her.

  I have to say something smart now. He thought he should leave out the fact that he also lived in Chapel Hill, just in case she thought he was trying to impress her. Okay, he would like to impress her, actually, but not at the risk of her flying off in fear.

  “Interesting. Well, I’m supposed to be a civil engineer, but I mostly play the piano for leisure, analyze data, or work with software. Of my past experiences, the structural engineering role has been my best times,” he managed to say with a smile.

  She laughed. “Supposed to be a civil engineer? I see. Well, I don’t know who or what I’m supposed to be. Still figuring it out. I have modeled for a few fashion lines, but when some requests got too uncomfortable for me, my agent fired me. Shortly after, my mom and her husband and my step-brother moved, and I decided to start out afresh with them.”

  “Ouch. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. That has not been the worst really. I did get a personal assistant job with a CEO of a pharmaceutical at Clegg, about fourteen miles out from Chapel Hill. Barely three months of settling into my role, and he thought it all right to touch me inappropriately. The pig!”

  She was still pissed about the incident and was glad she had been bold enough that day to slap his hand off. She had heard stories about him but was certain she could be different since she did not flirt at her workplace or behave unprofessionally. She had packed her bag that afternoon and had never gone back.

  “Oh my. So much for a fresh start,” he empathized, as he stretched his long legs in front of him.

  “Mm-hmm,” she muttered as she drained her glass and placed it on the table between them.

  “But hey, it’s okay, you know. The gallery doesn’t pay as much now, but the few months I’ve been there have been wonderful. I’ve learned a lot about paintings, artists, and art supplies, and I enjoy chatting with the prospects and clients. While the actual sales are not my core responsibility, I’m always thrilled when I do make a sale, however infrequent that is,” she shared excitedly.

  “That’s awesome. I love art, too, and actually paint a little myself. But just for leisure. Nothing consistent.”

  “No way. That’s amazing! Who is your favorite artist?”

  “Uh,”—he paused, considering—“right now, maybe Jadé Fadojutimi. She’s not as popular as, say, Jackson Pollock, but I generally like abstracts with lines and color plays that have some illusion of a form. Makes any sense to you?” He massaged his forehead and chuckled.

  “I’m more into music now, anyway. And sometimes good movies,” he added.

  “Mm-hmm.” She managed to get out in a nod. She had been mesmerized by the fact that they shared an interest in art. And hearing him speak that long was like listening to music really. His voice was fluid. She took a deep breath. I really have to get it together.

  “Hey, want to take a walk? My legs need to move,” he asked after a few minutes.

  “Yes, please,” she replied eagerly.

  He helped her up, and they strolled around the lounge. He admired the grace with which she swung her hips and walked easily with her six-inch heels. She was definitely super comfortable with heels. She was on his left side, so he had his hand in his back pocket as they walked, and he leaned in a bit to hear her, though she gestured an awful lot.

  They shared their taste in music, and he obviously had more interest and knowledge than she did. The conversation went on to books and novels, then movies and actors, and by this time they were seated at the bar. She laughed freely and almost forgot her worries of having missed her flight.

  So had
he. It was refreshing to have a conversation caution and judgment free. But then his alarm went off. They could not believe they had been talking for almost two hours, but he had a flight to catch and could not afford to miss it. They hurried back to their table for his suitcase.

  “I had you registered for a longer stay, so fresh snacks and drinks should be brought to you soon, I believe. It was a real pleasure spending the time with you. Enjoy the throw pillows,” he said with a wink, then he leaned in to give her a quick hug and hurried out as he turned off his beeping alarm for the second time.

  I

  A DAY AT A TIME.

  Chapter 1

  Bradley was stretched out on the long sofa for a second session, listening to the low classical instrumental playing in his therapist’s office. He had a hooded sweat jacket on and a crew-neck teal T-shirt underneath, with knee-length black shorts, a pair of black calf-length socks, and white slides. Both hands were in the pockets of the hoodie. It had been eight years since he’d been in a room like this. He had thought he was done, but alas, here he was again because “it” had come and stolen his reason the last nine years had been almost perfect. One of the few reasons his twenty-eight years of living had a direction. He wasn’t in denial, but it still didn’t make any damn sense.

  * * *

  They had been on the tour bus for almost two hours, and he needed a break from his screen. He looked out the window and saw that they were on a long meandering road by a cliff. Definitely they would not be stopping soon. He was four years old at the time and had about three hundred phrases going for him. He screamed out in frustration and threw his headphones at his mom, who was seated next to him.