Now she looked at him sideways like she knew he was nuts, but all she did was put an idea in his head.
When the time was right …
They gathered her things and headed back into the house.
Crash. Something bumped into the wall in Drew’s bedroom.
Forgetting everything, Ryan followed Jamie the few short steps to Drew’s room.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Jamie threw the door open, and Ryan’s gut clenched at the sight of Drew throwing himself against the wall.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
There was no other noise. No cries. No whine. No screams. Just the mechanical action of hitting the wall with his fury-filled body.
“Drew! Drew, stop it.” Jamie grabbed her son from behind.
Drew’s arms and legs flailed in her grip, and he threw his head back, hitting Jamie in the jaw.
Ryan grabbed the weighted blanket. “Hey, bug man. It’s time to hide in your rug.”
Drew ignored him, making grunting noises while trying to hurl himself against the wall.
Jamie wrestled him to the bed and held him so he couldn’t hurt himself, but his hands slapped at his own face and sometimes missed, hitting Jamie.
“Drew, Drew.” Ryan tried to get the boy’s attention, but it was useless. It was as if no one existed for him. No Jamie. No Ryan. And he doubted at this point Drew even knew who he was himself.
“What happened?” Ryan asked, perplexed. He had never had spells like this before. Was this how real autism presented?
“It’s my fault,” Jamie said. “We did too much today, and he can’t handle all the stress. It’s going to be a long night. A very long night.”
While Jamie wrestled with Drew to keep him from hurting himself, Ryan hugged Jamie from the back, as best as he could, knowing this was his first test to staying with her—through better or worse.
The next morning, Jamie woke to the sight of Ryan placing a tray with hot, steamy coffee mugs on the table next to her bed. She could barely pry her eyes open after a scant hour of sleep. Drew had been agitated through the night and had regressed to self-harm. This was so beyond horrible, she didn’t know where to start.
“We ought to look into the dog,” Ryan said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
His remark jolted her—it was so normal and ordinary. Let’s get a dog. Did he not realize how utterly awful it was that her son was hurting himself? It wasn’t something a dog could solve so easily.
“Thanks for the coffee.” She rubbed her eyes and took one of the mugs. “I have to take Drew to the doctor to see if he’s okay, and then talk to his therapist.”
“Makes sense,” Ryan said. “A dog can really calm him down just be being there. If you’re okay with the dog sleeping in the bed with Drew, it would give the best benefit.”
“What do you know about this?” Jamie felt the plume of frustration billow up like heartburn into her throat. “Drew’s problems are huge. It’s not something a puppy can magically cure.”
“We should at least try.” He placed a caring hand on her shoulder. “I hated seeing him like that last night.”
“He didn’t even know me or you. It was like he was in his own world.” Jamie closed her eyes, but tears still leaked from beneath her eyelids. “Poor guy’s been through so much. The almost drowning and all the stimulation of the new things we did.”
“You mean having me around?” Ryan’s face pinched and his shoulders sagged. “Should I leave?”
“No.” Her voice was more empathic than she’d expected. “I mean, if you want.”
“I want to be here to support you.” He pulled her into his arms. “I want to learn as much as I can about Drew’s condition, and I want to make a positive difference in his life. But most of all, I want to be with you.”
“You know you’re too good to be true?” Jamie allowed herself to rest in his arms while she revved herself up to wake Drew. Hopefully he’d be back to his usual self.
God forbid, he’d relapsed to his earliest antisocial self. What if all his progress had been undone by these last few days with Ryan living here?
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Ryan kissed her forehead. “You have this faraway look, like you checked out.”
“I don’t know if what happened with Drew was my fault.”
“You’re always blaming yourself,” Ryan said. “How could it be your fault?”
“I’m not saying any more.” Jamie took a fortifying breath and pursed her lips. “Let me go check on Drew.”
“I’ll come with you.” He was quick to his feet.
“You don’t have to.” Jamie padded down the hall with Ryan following. “It might have been all the changes that set him off.”
“Are you blaming me?” Ryan’s mouth turned down in a scowl.
This was exactly why Jamie didn’t want to involve anyone else in Drew’s life. It had been hard enough when Andrew, who was the actual father, had added to the daily drama by alternately blaming her or getting defensive about Drew’s autism.
“No, I’m not, but I need to find out why he had the reaction he had last night.” Jamie turned and put a finger on her mouth. “Let’s not argue and get him overly excited. I can tell you’re getting angry.”
“I’m not angry.” Ryan put his hands out, palms up. “I just don’t understand. I thought all these changes were helping him. The baseball. The pitching. Going fishing. He had so much fun.”
“And he was overstimulated.” Jamie turned the doorknob to Drew’s bedroom.
He was asleep under the heavy weight blanket, looking like the angel he was—except his forehead was covered with black and blue bruises.
She bit her knuckles at the painfully poignant sight and said a silent prayer. Dear God, please don’t let Drew lose all the gains he’s made. And please let Ryan be a help rather than a harm to me and my boys.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Ryan looked over Jamie’s shoulder at the little guy sleeping in the bed. He appeared so peaceful it was hard to believe the fit he’d thrown just a few hours ago. It had taken Jamie most of the night to get him under control, and by the time she crawled into bed, she was shaky and emotionally distraught.
He, in turn, had to hold and cuddle her until she finally fell asleep only to be woken by the alarm clock way too soon.
Jamie sat at the edge of Drew’s bed and shook his shoulder. “Rise and shine.”
Ryan was aware of Ben coming up behind him.
“What happened to Drew?” Ben asked. His voice trembled, and he clutched onto Ryan’s pant leg.
Drew opened his eyes and sat up, but his expression was vacant and he didn’t look at any of them.
“Hey, little guy,” Ryan said. “Time to get up and go to school.”
No answer.
“Drew? Can you hear me?” Jamie tilted Drew’s face toward her. “We need to go through the morning routines and then have breakfast.”
No answer.
It was eerie the way Drew stayed locked in place, as if he were a frozen robot.
Jamie picked him up and he was stiff, not bending his arms and legs to make it easier for her. Too bad Ryan wasn’t allowed to pick up anything heavier than ten pounds. At the same time, Drew didn’t struggle. He just wasn’t there.
“Mom, what’s wrong with Drew?” Ben’s voice was small.
“Let’s go to the kitchen and get some breakfast,” Ryan said to Ben. “Your mother has to take Drew to the doctor.”
“I heard him banging his head. I was scared,” Ben said. “Will he be all right?”
Ryan took Ben’s hand and led him toward the kitchen. When he looked back, Jamie was carrying Drew to the bathroom with tears streaming down her face.
“Should we call nine-one-one?” he asked.
“He’s awake and he knows I’m here,” Jamie said. “He just doesn’t want to acknowledge me. I think he’s upset with me.”
“It’s not all about you,” Ryan said, turning to face Jam
ie. “He might have a head injury. He needs to get looked at.”
“He’s done this before,” Jamie said. “I’m not going to take him to the ER and have EMS and the doctors write up unnecessary reports. Drew has his own doctor who’s familiar with his chart.”
She set Drew on the floor and he stood there, blinking but not saying anything.
“Okay, then do you want me to walk Ben to school? If it’s too far, I can call a cab.”
“It’s not too far, thanks,” Jamie said while peeling Drew’s pajamas off.
Ryan left her to tend to Drew and returned to the kitchen. “What’s it going to be today? Hash browns and sausages sound good or do you want a bowl of Wheaties?”
“Wheaties, like you, with sugar. Will Drew be okay?” Ben asked. “Last time he did this, he didn’t speak for a week.”
“Let’s hope your mom can get through to him,” Ryan said. “Does this happen a lot?”
Ben shook his head. “Last time was when Dad scared him.”
“He did? What happened?” Ryan got out two bowls and placed them on the table. He poured a serving of Wheaties into each bowl and topped the cereal with a tablespoon of sugar.
“Dad came by to take me out to play baseball, and Drew wasn’t listening to him, so Dad swung a baseball bat at him.”
“He what?” Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. Drew must have been terrified.
“He didn’t really hit him,” Ben said. “He was trying to scare him so he’d listen and play with us.”
“That doesn’t work, and that’s mean,” Ryan said. “What did your mother do?”
“She wasn’t there. I told her, but she listened to Dad who said he was showing Drew how to swing a bat. Drew was okay when he got home and nothing happened until he went to sleep. In the middle of the night, he started head banging,”
“That’s real sad.” Ryan didn’t know what else to say. Inside, he was fuming at Andrew’s violent streak, but he didn’t want to criticize him in front of Ben. He poured milk into the cereal bowls and handed Ben a spoon. “Looks like I’m walking you to school this morning.”
“You are?” Ben’s entire face brightened, forgetting the trauma he witnessed only a few minutes ago. “Can you stay and talk to Mrs. Udelhoven? My teacher? I can’t wait for all my friends to meet you.”
“Sure, I don’t have much to do.”
“Wow! Can you come to our class and play with us?”
“Well, now, I’ll have to ask your teacher, won’t I?” Ryan tugged the Rattlers baseball cap Ben was wearing over his eyes.
Jamie had Drew dressed by the time Ryan and Ben finished breakfast. She walked him down the hallway toward the garage.
“Ben, be good, okay?” She waved at her older son.
Her eyes were bleary and red, and she didn’t even try to hide her tears.
Ryan was by her side in a flash. He opened his arms and gave her a warm bear hug. “Let me know when you’re back from the doctor.”
She nodded mutely and took her keys from the hook.
His heart contracting with a deep ache, he watched her march stiff-legged Drew to the car.
“See you, Drew,” he called. “When you get back, we’ll play ball.”
No response.
Ryan shut the connecting door and let out a harsh sigh. Maybe he wasn’t the miracle worker he’d portrayed himself to be. Maybe he was moving too fast and horning in on this little family.
“Ryan,” Ben called. “Can I have a glass of orange juice? I’m not supposed to pour.”
“Of course.” He hustled back to the kitchen and poured him a glass of juice.
“Thanks.” Ben looked up at him with hero-worshiping eyes. “I can’t wait to tell everyone at school that you’re going to be my new daddy.”
“Whoa, buddy, I think you need to keep that a secret,” Ryan said. “Your mother’s not going to like it, and neither is your dad.”
“But my mother says she can do anything she wants,” Ben said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “And she wants to marry you.”
“Me?” A not unpleasant shockwave thrummed in Ryan’s heart. “How do you know?”
Ben covered his mouth and giggled. “I saw you two dancing and kissing on the patio. Nana says when grownups kiss it means they’re going to get married.”
“True, but I need you to keep this a secret, okay? Otherwise I can’t surprise your mom with a big, beautiful diamond.”
“Okay.” Ben zipped his lips. “I can’t wait to tell everyone in school that you’re going to be my dad, but I won’t tell my mother so she can be surprised.”
“Don’t you think if you told Bianca, she’d tell her mother and her mother will tell yours?”
“Oh, you’re right.” He held up his fist and bumped Ryan’s knuckles. “Bro code. I won’t say a word.”
“Bro code,” Ryan said, hating that he was encouraging a boy to keep secrets from his mother.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“He’s a little banged up, but I don’t think he gave himself a concussion,” Dr. Sampson said as he felt around Drew’s head and shined a light in his eyes.
Drew sat on the examination table, playing with Jamie’s keys. He had a vacant expression on his face, and he didn’t interact or respond to the doctor.
“Why is he not talking to us?” Jamie wrung her hands and shuddered from the chills running up and down her spine. She’d truly screwed up now. Even though Drew let her dress him and put his diaper on, brush his teeth and put on his clothes and shoes, he seemed to have mentally checked out.
“You say he almost drowned last night?” The doctor checked his notes. “Could you tell me how long he was in the water?”
“Are you thinking brain damage?” Jamie shuddered, hugging herself. “He wasn’t in it more than a minute, and he was just fine before he went to bed. He even helped the man I was with cook the fish.”
“Did he lose consciousness?”
“No, he was bragging about how he chased the fish onto the hook,” Jamie said.
“Tell me again what happened after dinner. Maybe there’s a clue there,” Dr. Sampson said.
“The boys played video games while I cleaned the kitchen. Then I went to sit outside because I was too upset and they were too noisy.”
“Did Drew complain when you left the room?”
Jamie shook her head. “He didn’t even notice. He, Ryan, and Ben were playing a racing game.”
“Who’s Ryan? Is he the guy you’re dating?”
“Yes. He’s someone I met about two weeks back. Both boys like him a lot, and Drew even opened up to him and played catch with him.”
Clang, clang, clang. Drew dropped her keys and picked them up repetitively.
“You left Drew alone with this guy, am I correct?” The doctor screwed his eyes and looked over his glasses at Jamie.
“Yes. He’s very good with Drew and knows how to calm him down with games, like snug as a bug in a rug.”
“Uh huh.” Dr. Sampson nodded. “Has Drew ever been left alone with Ryan without Ben in the room?”
“What are you getting at?” Jamie’s skin prickled with an unpleasant sensation. “He reads them both bedtime stories and puts them to bed.”
“With you around?”
“Usually.” Jamie felt like she was being cross-examined. “I don’t like what you’re implying. My boys are fully clothed by the time they get their bedtime stories, and I’m always in the house.”
Except last night. She was outside on the patio sulking like a foolish child.
“Okay, if you say so.” Dr. Sampson jotted in Drew’s chart. “All I’m saying is the night terrors, head banging, and the withdrawn behavior you’re seeing right now could come from high stress or a traumatic experience. You seem to think it’s the near drowning, but you also told me he was normal afterwards.”
“It could be a delayed reaction,” Jamie contested hotly. There was no other reason, despite the doctor suggesting Ryan had something to do with it.
>
“Right, or it could be the result of abuse.” The doctor turned Drew’s face to examine the bruises on his forehead. “I can’t rule that out.”
“He did that himself,” Jamie said. “Ryan and I both walked in and saw him. Ben heard him in the room next door.”
“Let’s hope he snaps out of his silence and tells us what happened.” Dr. Sampson looked unconvinced. “I’m required by the law to report suspected child abuse, but since I’ve seen Drew before and autism can cause self-harm, I will give you the benefit of the doubt—for now. However, if you observe any other regression behaviors, for example, difficulty toileting and fear of water or baths, I want to know about it. Do you have any other questions?”
“No,” Jamie said, feeling tainted by the doctor’s suspicions.
“Okay, I’d like to see him in a week, check the bruises and his social functioning. In the meantime, he can still go to school. I’ll write a note letting them know about the visit.”
“Sure, thanks.” Jamie gathered her keys from Drew.
Her heart weighed heavily as she walked the gauntlet of other patients in the waiting room, purposely ignoring a few of the parents she knew from the autism support group.
Her son had gone backwards, and that meant she was a complete failure.
Ryan hid behind his sunglasses as he walked Ben to school. The boy talked a mile a minute, bringing up all of Ryan’s stats, the games his father had put on DVD, and the Rattlers’ prospects once the season opened.
Together they walked into the schoolyard where the modular buildings were spread out in octagonal pods. This meant he had to walk by many parents and teachers.
At first, people stopped and stared, but Ryan could tell they weren’t sure if he was really a ballplayer or someone who looked like one.
As soon as Ben caught sight of his teacher, he grabbed Ryan by the hand and said, “Mrs. Udelhoven, guess who walked me to school today? Ryan Hudson. He pitches for the Rattlers. Ryan, this is my teacher, Mrs. Udelhoven.”
The teacher’s jaw dropped, and her eyes popped wide. “Mr. Hudson. Nice to meet you. Ben’s been talking about you, but I must admit, I thought he was bragging.”
Playing for the Save (Men of Spring Baseball Book 3) Page 15
