his heels at Brad. Brad smashed his lips together so tight they formed a fine white line. Emily’s stomach turned into one hard knot as she picked up on Brad’s obvious stress.
Jane perched on the edge of the leather sofa. Her back ramrod straight dropped her bag on the floor beside her feet, and rested both hands on her jean clad knees. “Put Trevor down, he wasn’t harming anyone, and maybe Dad should step out so we can assess him without interference.”
Brad froze and Emily’s mouth fell open as she crouched on her knees holding the soggy towel, now dripping on her faded blue jeans. Now to Brad’s credit, he said nothing. But the fire sparking in his magnetic, stormy eyes said it all to Emily. He was going to blow. Emily struggled to her feet. She needed to say something, anything in his defense.
He looked at her with the same steel hardness he leveled on Jane. “Don’t” And of course her heart ached from his hurtful rebuff. She understood now the boundaries she crossed, he wouldn’t be defended by a woman. He put Trevor down beside Emily, held up both his hands in a show of surrender, and abruptly left through the kitchen, out the back door, slamming it so hard the lights in the kitchen flashed. The feeling of anger trailing behind him filled the air with a noticeable stench setting Emily’s teeth on edge.
Trevor pulled away and bounced back over to the uncomfortable OT, who’d become a magnet for Trevor. His structure had been changed; he didn’t know what was expected of him. Hell neither did Emily, as she gawked like an awkward schoolgirl at these three gangly professionals. Trevor was a magnet; picking up on everyone’s anxiety. Hers included. And Katy now yanking on Emily’s brown T-shirt began to whine until Emily picked her up.
The two hours Jane and her lackeys stayed seemed like eight. When they finally left, Emily was so wired; it left her muscles and bones physically weary. Lunch was a pathetic ensemble of build your own sandwiches which Brad never showed up for anyway.
After Trevor woke from his late morning nap, Emily worked on some basic receptive skills with Trevor, but he stopped rocking and slid off the chair onto the floor, as if he were a limp rag doll. Emily scooped Trevor up and sat him in the chair holding tight to his upper arms not allowing him to slip off. “Awesome job Trevor, you sat!Here, you earned this to play with.” She handed him the tape measure he was so fond of, he yanked it out and let go while it whizzed closed over and over.
The occupational therapist who’d tagged along with Jane as part of the team this morning, insinuated following through with Lovaas ABA therapy, the therapy provided by the new consultant, would in fact harm Trevor. He needed to be left alone and he’d develop in his own time, naturally, he’d make his own friends as he saw fit. It was a good thing Brad had left.
Emily had been furious and kicked a stuffed animal across the floor after they’d walked out the door. Why couldn’t these industry professionals start working together? When would they get with program and all realize this is about the best outcome for Trevor, all autistic kids—check your egos at the door.
Her head pounded as she watched Trevor now scoot across the floor on his knees. Today seemed like the saying, “one-step forward and three back.” And where was Brad?
Chapter Twenty
The dinner dishes were washed and put away. Emily scrubbed the kitchen table and counter. The sun dipped below the horizon lighting the sky a beautiful shade of pink and orange. Emily listened at the bottom of the stairs for any rustling from the kids. Nothing—good, they were fast asleep.
Dinner had been quiet and tense, even though Emily made Brad’s favorite pork chops. For her, it was just a small effort to ease some of the humiliation he’d experienced this morning. He’d only picked at his dinner. After about ten minutes, he’d pushed his plate away and
Jane perched on the edge of the leather sofa. Her back ramrod straight dropped her bag on the floor beside her feet, and rested both hands on her jean clad knees. “Put Trevor down, he wasn’t harming anyone, and maybe Dad should step out so we can assess him without interference.”
Brad froze and Emily’s mouth fell open as she crouched on her knees holding the soggy towel, now dripping on her faded blue jeans. Now to Brad’s credit, he said nothing. But the fire sparking in his magnetic, stormy eyes said it all to Emily. He was going to blow. Emily struggled to her feet. She needed to say something, anything in his defense.
He looked at her with the same steel hardness he leveled on Jane. “Don’t” And of course her heart ached from his hurtful rebuff. She understood now the boundaries she crossed, he wouldn’t be defended by a woman. He put Trevor down beside Emily, held up both his hands in a show of surrender, and abruptly left through the kitchen, out the back door, slamming it so hard the lights in the kitchen flashed. The feeling of anger trailing behind him filled the air with a noticeable stench setting Emily’s teeth on edge.
Trevor pulled away and bounced back over to the uncomfortable OT, who’d become a magnet for Trevor. His structure had been changed; he didn’t know what was expected of him. Hell neither did Emily, as she gawked like an awkward schoolgirl at these three gangly professionals. Trevor was a magnet; picking up on everyone’s anxiety. Hers included. And Katy now yanking on Emily’s brown T-shirt began to whine until Emily picked her up.
The two hours Jane and her lackeys stayed seemed like eight. When they finally left, Emily was so wired; it left her muscles and bones physically weary. Lunch was a pathetic ensemble of build your own sandwiches which Brad never showed up for anyway.
After Trevor woke from his late morning nap, Emily worked on some basic receptive skills with Trevor, but he stopped rocking and slid off the chair onto the floor, as if he were a limp rag doll. Emily scooped Trevor up and sat him in the chair holding tight to his upper arms not allowing him to slip off. “Awesome job Trevor, you sat!Here, you earned this to play with.” She handed him the tape measure he was so fond of, he yanked it out and let go while it whizzed closed over and over.
The occupational therapist who’d tagged along with Jane as part of the team this morning, insinuated following through with Lovaas ABA therapy, the therapy provided by the new consultant, would in fact harm Trevor. He needed to be left alone and he’d develop in his own time, naturally, he’d make his own friends as he saw fit. It was a good thing Brad had left.
Emily had been furious and kicked a stuffed animal across the floor after they’d walked out the door. Why couldn’t these industry professionals start working together? When would they get with program and all realize this is about the best outcome for Trevor, all autistic kids—check your egos at the door.
Her head pounded as she watched Trevor now scoot across the floor on his knees. Today seemed like the saying, “one-step forward and three back.” And where was Brad?
Chapter Twenty
The dinner dishes were washed and put away. Emily scrubbed the kitchen table and counter. The sun dipped below the horizon lighting the sky a beautiful shade of pink and orange. Emily listened at the bottom of the stairs for any rustling from the kids. Nothing—good, they were fast asleep.
Dinner had been quiet and tense, even though Emily made Brad’s favorite pork chops. For her, it was just a small effort to ease some of the humiliation he’d experienced this morning. He’d only picked at his dinner. After about ten minutes, he’d pushed his plate away and
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