couldn’t pour him another.
Even his mom was laughing softly. “Okay, enough, you three. Brad, how is Emily doing? In all this commotion today, I haven’t had a chance to talk with her. She’s been herding your kids around and then on the phone nonstop. She seems distracted.” Becky patted Brad’s arm.
Jed hadn’t realized Emily was distracted. He thought she was just being a mom, but then, Emily was always on the kids, being a mother and raising an autistic child. Trevor was from Brad’s first marriage, but no one would ever suspect that Emily was anything other than his mother. Maybe his mom was reading more into the situation than she should.
Brad glanced to the door, and his expression changed. Jed had seen that look a time or two and could tell something was up. Then Brad wiped his hand roughly over his face, and Jed could hear the scrape of his whiskers. Brad, too, was looking a little rough around the edges, needing to shave.
“She’s worried about next year for Trevor. He starts a new school, and we’re running out of options for his grade level, as high school starts at grade nine. Our school district has had so many changes—new people, new administrators who don’t want to work with his program, his consultant, or us, for that matter. They want to do things their own way as if they have it all figured out.” Brad leaned back, scraping the chair legs, and frowned. “Emily is taking it hard. She’s been fighting with the school, the counselors, the principal. They say no, she argues and won’t go away. She’s become a thorn in their side, as one of the teachers said to her.”
“That doesn’t sound good, either, Brad,” Neil said. “She’s done so much for Trevor. Where would he be without her?” He probably understood more about Trevor’s situation, living closer to Brad now in Hoquiam, than Jed did. Jed loved his brothers, but he also knew that once he said goodbye, he would always go back to his world, his life with Diana and the boys.
Brad’s face darkened, and he shook his head. Jed knew everything Emily had done, including opening Brad’s eyes so he could see that Trevor had autism, helping him understand when he couldn’t see what had been right in front of him.
“So what does this mean for school? Are they not going to take him?” Neil asked.
“Oh, they’ll take him, but it’s a question of what they’ll do for him, what support he’ll have. They won’t allow his current support worker to stay with him in high school. There are so many closed-minded people we’re dealing with right now. Emily handles it better than me. I’m not as nice, but at least when we walk in the school together and I’m with her, they treat my wife with more respect. They’re not as nice if she goes in alone.
“It’s becoming very political. It’s all about the money they get from the state for a child with autism,” he said. “It’s extra funding for the school, but the administrators can do anything with the money. The principal doesn’t have to account to the parents. He can decide what resources he wants to use. It’s frustrating when you don’t have a voice, and it make me so angry to realize that Trevor is literally a dollar sign to them. Unfortunately, we’re finding the older Trevor gets, and the more kids are now being diagnosed, the less willing schools are to work with us or his consultant, who’s the one responsible for how far he’s come. We had it good, or Trevor did, for so long, with a school and principal who understood what we were doing, who were willing to work with us.”
“But you paid for the support, the therapy, the courses, everything, and the school benefited. I don’t understand, Brad. This is a no brainer for them to want to work with you and your consultant.” Neil sounded irritated.
Jed didn’t know what to make of it as he listened. He couldn’t add anything, because if it were him, he’d go in demanding, not knowing what else to do. But
Even his mom was laughing softly. “Okay, enough, you three. Brad, how is Emily doing? In all this commotion today, I haven’t had a chance to talk with her. She’s been herding your kids around and then on the phone nonstop. She seems distracted.” Becky patted Brad’s arm.
Jed hadn’t realized Emily was distracted. He thought she was just being a mom, but then, Emily was always on the kids, being a mother and raising an autistic child. Trevor was from Brad’s first marriage, but no one would ever suspect that Emily was anything other than his mother. Maybe his mom was reading more into the situation than she should.
Brad glanced to the door, and his expression changed. Jed had seen that look a time or two and could tell something was up. Then Brad wiped his hand roughly over his face, and Jed could hear the scrape of his whiskers. Brad, too, was looking a little rough around the edges, needing to shave.
“She’s worried about next year for Trevor. He starts a new school, and we’re running out of options for his grade level, as high school starts at grade nine. Our school district has had so many changes—new people, new administrators who don’t want to work with his program, his consultant, or us, for that matter. They want to do things their own way as if they have it all figured out.” Brad leaned back, scraping the chair legs, and frowned. “Emily is taking it hard. She’s been fighting with the school, the counselors, the principal. They say no, she argues and won’t go away. She’s become a thorn in their side, as one of the teachers said to her.”
“That doesn’t sound good, either, Brad,” Neil said. “She’s done so much for Trevor. Where would he be without her?” He probably understood more about Trevor’s situation, living closer to Brad now in Hoquiam, than Jed did. Jed loved his brothers, but he also knew that once he said goodbye, he would always go back to his world, his life with Diana and the boys.
Brad’s face darkened, and he shook his head. Jed knew everything Emily had done, including opening Brad’s eyes so he could see that Trevor had autism, helping him understand when he couldn’t see what had been right in front of him.
“So what does this mean for school? Are they not going to take him?” Neil asked.
“Oh, they’ll take him, but it’s a question of what they’ll do for him, what support he’ll have. They won’t allow his current support worker to stay with him in high school. There are so many closed-minded people we’re dealing with right now. Emily handles it better than me. I’m not as nice, but at least when we walk in the school together and I’m with her, they treat my wife with more respect. They’re not as nice if she goes in alone.
“It’s becoming very political. It’s all about the money they get from the state for a child with autism,” he said. “It’s extra funding for the school, but the administrators can do anything with the money. The principal doesn’t have to account to the parents. He can decide what resources he wants to use. It’s frustrating when you don’t have a voice, and it make me so angry to realize that Trevor is literally a dollar sign to them. Unfortunately, we’re finding the older Trevor gets, and the more kids are now being diagnosed, the less willing schools are to work with us or his consultant, who’s the one responsible for how far he’s come. We had it good, or Trevor did, for so long, with a school and principal who understood what we were doing, who were willing to work with us.”
“But you paid for the support, the therapy, the courses, everything, and the school benefited. I don’t understand, Brad. This is a no brainer for them to want to work with you and your consultant.” Neil sounded irritated.
Jed didn’t know what to make of it as he listened. He couldn’t add anything, because if it were him, he’d go in demanding, not knowing what else to do. But
Similar Books
