Shiver (24 page)

Chapter 33

LISSA

“I
am so excited that we’ve found someone who actually comes to our house rather than me having to schlep all over Virginia. It’s a dream come true,” I called out from the bathroom where I was sweeping on minimal makeup and tying my hair in a knot at the back of my head. Ethan was in Thomas’s room, getting him dressed.

“I’d seriously pay an extra hundred dollars for every appointment we’ve ever been to if someone had just offered to come here,” Ethan called back.

“Word, my husband. Word.”

I tugged my jeans up a little as I sighed at my reflection in the mirror. Then I straightened my blouse and pulled it down. I started as Ethan’s reflection appeared behind me with Thomas perched on his left hip. Ethan’s right hand reached forward to rest on my hip, sliding under the fabric of my blouse to touch my bare skin. He leaned over to drop a kiss on my neck, and it made me smile despite my insecurities.

“You look sexy.” He met my eyes in my reflection.

I scoffed at him and raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“I know you love me, but this”—I gestured to myself—“is not sexy.”

Ethan turned to lean against the bathroom counter and pushed my hip so I was facing him.

“Are you letting the twenty-five percent take over again? Because you are more sexy now than ever. Look at what you made.” He lifted Thomas and thrust him into my arms.

I smiled as I hugged our boy, kissing the top of his blond head. “I know. I mean, I know I grew a baby and all that. But I’m so soft. I sit around the house all day. I need to start running again.”

A smile spread across Ethan’s clean-shaven face, his dark brown eyes crinkling at the edges. “You should start running again. It’ll make you feel good. Why don’t you just jog to the end of the driveway and back tonight before putting Thomas down? Get back into the swing of things. I can handle him for fifteen minutes. Do it during bath time.”

I sighed a little. “It’s a great idea. I’m not sure it’ll work every day. But at least when I can, right?”

Ethan stood to gently kiss my lips. “Deal. Now let’s get ready to meet this lady.”

I nodded and smiled, grabbing his hand to walk out to the living room as a knock sounded on the door. As I knelt on the floor to put Thomas down, Ethan opened the front door to reveal a woman whom I could only describe as a pixie. She looked to be in her midtwenties with bright blue almond-shaped eyes, short black pixie-cut hair, a ski-jump nose, and full red lips. She was tiny and cute as a button and I wanted to—no, needed to—feed her.

“Hi! I’m Jennifer. You must be Ethan and Lissa. And Thomas!” She extended a hand to Ethan and then jogged over to me and dropped right to her knees, shaking my hand and immediately lowering herself to Thomas’s level to talk to him.

I exchanged an amused and wide-eyed look with Ethan over Jennifer’s head. But Thomas was loving every moment. I’d never seen him take to anyone else like he was suddenly with this girl. He was giggling and gripping her fingers, and his eyes were sparkling with baby love.

“Wow,” I finally said, smiling.

Never taking her eyes off Thomas, Jennifer said, “Oh, I’m a baby whisperer, didn’t I tell you?”

I started to laugh. “No, but I wouldn’t have believed you anyway. So it’s better to see it in color.”

Ethan sat on the floor next to me as Thomas crawled into Jennifer’s lap, eyes trained on her chunky red necklace.

“So,” she said. “I’ve read all about you guys. And I’ve read all the information I have about Thomas. But I’d like to talk about what you’re going through and observe Thomas’s playtime to get a better idea of what he’s up against. How does that sound?”

Ethan and I nodded and both of us began to speak at once before he nudged for me to continue. I winked at him as I took over the conversation, explaining our days from the time Thomas was born up until now. I was sure to stress our main concerns of eating and sleeping, but also the things that Ms. Cathy identified that might be more the root of the problem. Jennifer nodded throughout my dissertation and asked questions when she needed clarification, but otherwise her attention seemed concentrated on my son. While I was talking, she was pulling out different toys, coaxing him onto the swing, bouncing him on the balance ball. She chewed her lip as she watched him play throughout their tasks, and I could see her wheels turning. I also continued to steal glances at Ethan, as this was his first experience getting to see this type of therapy. He was watching intently the entire time, a look of surprise on his face.

ETHAN

Well, this was by far the weirdest thing I’d seen in a while. This teeny tornado of a woman had come in, my son had climbed into her lap, smiling, and she was spinning him on Lissa’s handmade swing and rolling him around on a giant ball. I was just taking it all in and trying to stay open-minded. I caught Lissa watching me throughout the process. I could tell she was nervous about my reaction, because she’d asked over and over if I was on board with trying “alternate methods.” What she didn’t realize was that I was at about the end of my rope here too. Alternate methods sounded great.

I loved hearing Lissa speak so passionately about our son too. Her eyes lit up, and her words ran together, and her hands gestured wildly. She spouted details I wasn’t even sure I’d known about their days together. And hearing it all lumped together, I realized that we’d had a shit-crazy year with this kid. I couldn’t believe we’d made it this far.

When Thomas started to get tired and fussy, Lissa grabbed him to put him in his high chair to see if he wanted to eat anything. Jennifer watched the process of getting a few bites of food into his mouth with a grim expression, but otherwise stayed quiet. When he made it known that he’d had enough, Lissa put a Mickey on so we could all talk while he was entertained. Jennifer sat on a barstool at the kitchen counter, scribbling notes on a piece of paper, chewing her lower lip in concentration. Lissa had a tense expression on her face as she watched the therapist, no doubt wondering what was being written. Finally, Jennifer laid her pen down.

“I’m very committed to working with you guys,” she said thoughtfully. “I’m completely comfortable with his young age. It’s one of the reasons I travel to people’s homes. I think you can get more out of any kid, but especially a really young kid, by meeting them on their own turf. From a sensory perspective, I have a lot of ideas and I think I can help. I’m mostly concerned about his feeding difficulties. I don’t understand why he throws up so often, and clearly the doctors don’t either. I can’t help but think there’s a reason he doesn’t want to eat. I know he’s been tested for everything under the sun, but something doesn’t sit right with him and it’s beyond the sense of touch. There’s something within his body. I’m just not sure how far we can get in his therapy if we can’t figure out the root of the problem.”

My jaw tightened as Lissa responded. “I understand, Jennifer. We both do. But at this point, we just don’t know what the root of the problem is. If the top GI doctors in the United States don’t know, then I don’t know what else to say except we just have to move forward and do what we can. And see what develops.”

Lissa looked to me for confirmation.

“I agree,” I said with a nod. “With both of you. There has to be a reason he behaves this way. But as of right now, we can’t figure it out. It happens with horses. We may suspect they have a physical issue that’s causing a behavior, but sometimes we have to wait until they start limping so we can find out what exactly it is. They can’t talk to us to tell us, so we have to push until it shows.”

Jennifer smiled. “That’s the first animal reference I’ve ever heard.” She laughed lightly. “But I like it. And I’m willing to try. I can tell you’re committed, and that’s crucial. I’ll be assigning a lot of work for you to do at home, on your own, that is as important—if not more so—than what I will do when I’m here. I’d like to come two to three times a week if that works for you. I’ll spend half the time working on his sensory system and half the time working with his oral skills. And we’ll just go from there!”

I reached for Lissa’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “We appreciate your willingness to help. Really.”

Jennifer looked from me to Lissa. “You guys are going to be fine. I see a lot of families, and believe me, it’s very different going to people’s homes rather than them coming to an office. You seem like you have a strong marriage and like you’re both on board. That’s so important and, honestly, so rare. A lot of couples are torn apart just by having kids, let alone a difficult child. Hang in there. I promise I will at least help.”

I saw Lissa’s lips tighten as she choked back tears, and I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back my own emotions. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Thank you, Jennifer. We’ve always worked well together, and this is no different. None of this is about us though. We just want our son to be okay.”

With a small smile and a mildly sad look in her eyes, Jennifer said her good-bye, promising to e-mail with a weekly schedule. Lissa leaned into me after Jennifer left, closing her eyes and letting out a breath of relief.

“What do you think?” she asked into my chest.

“I think it’s going to be great. She seems pretty cool, and if nothing else, Thomas clearly loves her. That’s a win right there.”

Lissa nodded quietly. “Yeah, he’s a ladies’ man, huh?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you seem surprised.” I smiled as I kissed her hair.

Chapter 34

LISSA

O
ur weeks had fallen into a blur and a mess. Lots of messes. Every moment of every day was an opportunity for therapy. Every mundane task had become a lesson. In some ways, it was helpful to have such a schedule. It kept me on track and busy and proactive. But sometimes I just wanted to rest or enjoy a quiet moment. But relaxation or pleasure seemed to always equal a missed opportunity and was then met with guilt.

Jennifer came three days a week, and I’d learned to really look forward to each appointment. I spent most sessions working right alongside her, learning what to do and how far to push Thomas in his exercises and how to mold each session depending on his mood and reactions. But he loved her so much that during one session a week, I took the time to go down to the barn and ride. It was an incredible feeling to be able to do that and feel good about it.

I looked forward to his therapy, not only because we were seeing results and I was hopeful, but also because having another adult in the house to converse with, especially one who helped shoulder the weight of my troublesome child during the day, was an unparalleled relief. Jennifer was also a complete joy to have around. She was peppy and fun without being annoying. Yes. It was possible I was paying for a friend to hang out with me. No shame.

It was just Thomas and me at home though. We had a lot to do because not only did we have to stay on top of our usual routine, but the following day was his big first birthday. Of course, when I said big, I meant it figuratively. I was making cupcakes that I was aware he wouldn’t touch and only Steph, Lawrence, and Jennifer would be in attendance. I hadn’t seen our friends in months, terrible as it sounds. Certainly everyone was busy with their own lives, but I couldn’t blame it on anyone but myself. I’d spent months shoving real life aside, and I hadn’t even realized how much time had gone by. I’d also quarantined us from outside germs as much as possible. With Steph spending her days working at a boarding school and Lawrence’s frequent travel, I’d confessed to them both that I considered them cesspools of illness we just didn’t need in our house. They were very good-natured about it, but I missed them.

Ethan got up before dawn that morning to try to get his rides done early so he could come home and help with some chores. When Thomas stirred next to me in our bed, I reluctantly rolled out and lifted him up, then tickled him until he belly-laughed. He still didn’t sleep through the night at all, but he would wake up happy, and that early-morning giggle was worth the whole night of tossing and turning and general misery.

The first thing we did after a diaper change was head straight for the balance ball. I gently bounced Thomas up and down and encouraged him to hold his balance while the ball rolled in a circle. Then I held his hands and leaned him all the way back and then upright in a sit-up. I made silly faces and sang the whole time so he was giggling and enjoying himself. We played with some different textured toys, and then I braved placing him on the swing, circling my arms around the base so I could catch him if he teetered one direction or the other. He did not typically enjoy this; the spinning and unpredictability of the swing caused him to clench his little fists on my arms. His eyes fixed on mine as he tried to keep himself steady. I moved him very slowly and started to sing “Old MacDonald” to help entertain and distract him. He started to enjoy the process a little more each time he got to call out the animal sounds, and I smiled when he made a darn good horse neigh. Leaning over the swing, I kissed his nose as I steadied the platform. My hands gently helped his arms to reach around my neck in a hug, and then I lowered my hands behind his back to hold him there. I felt a small squeeze tighten around me as Thomas’s warm body curved toward mine. My eyes welled up with tears, and all the air was stripped from my lungs as I hugged him back.

“Hey, buddy.” I tucked my head and breathed into his neck. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

He pulled back too quickly, and I immediately felt the loss. I had just realized that he’d never done that before. My son was one year old, and he’d never… hugged me? How had I not realized this? I hadn’t even known what I was missing. Now I wanted to hug him and never stop.

Wiping my tears on the shoulder of my T-shirt to hide them from my son, I smiled brightly.

“Okay. Hungry, kiddo?”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t say no, so I locked him into his high chair and grabbed a jar of oatmeal out of the fridge to warm. While the jar sat in hot water, I filled a cup with ice water and popped a straw in it. Once the food was room temperature and a palatable texture, I sat in front of Thomas to see if I could cajole him into eating a decent meal. He pretty much ate the same thing every day. It seemed like he was so sensitive to changes in food that for now I was trying to remove any variables from our lives so I could tell where the problems lay. Oatmeal seemed to work. If we were feeling crazy, I mixed applesauce into it.

Hoping that the exercises we’d done earlier had made him feel more grounded and also hungry, I set the bowl and spoon down in front of him to see if he would do any feeding himself. All I got was an expectant stare, but I was encouraged that he looked like he was waiting for something. Hopefully that something was food.

I took a small scoop from the bowl and slowly moved the spoon toward his mouth, preparing him as best as I could. He actually opened his mouth and took in the entire bite. His eyes widened when the food hit the back of his tongue, and I quickly grabbed his cup of water and stuck the straw in his mouth before he gagged. He handled it well though and swallowed hard. I smiled and encouraged him with my words and body language to try again. He ate, but not with the same enthusiasm or big bites. He was much more cautious.

After breakfast, he played a bit while I set out everything I’d need to make cupcakes for tomorrow. Ethan had had the genius idea to ask José’s wife, Sandra, to make tacos for us all. They wouldn’t be able to make it to the quasi-party, but I was still really looking forward to her food. And the fact that I didn’t have to make it.

Once bowls and measuring cups and ingredients were set and ready, it was time for another round similar to what we had done before breakfast. Diaper change, ball bouncing, sit-ups, wheelbarrow walking, trampoline jumping. Once we were done, it was time for an attempt at a snack. I grabbed some yogurt, and while Thomas clearly thought very little of it, he did taste it, and that was pretty good. When he’d had enough, we headed to his room with a bottle to sneak a morning nap and a sleep-feed in. Even at this early hour, I was happy to chill in a rocking chair for a little while since it was my only form of quiet time. I’d perfected the protocol to get him to sleep and eat now. There was the rocking and bouncing plus the perfect position, then the bait and switch between the pacifier and bottle. Once he’d drained as much formula as he would, I’d gently move him up and over my shoulder so he could sleep upright and let his tummy settle. It seemed to help reduce the chances that everything would come back up later. As he settled in, breathing his sweet baby-turning-big-boy breath into my neck, I allowed my head to fall back and my eyes to relax shut.

I’d purposefully left my ever-present Kindle behind so I could try to rest. My broken sleep pattern overnight was wearing, to say the least, and I needed to practice getting rest when I could. Of course, as soon as my eyes closed, I started thinking of all the things I should have been doing while my baby was sleeping. Rolling my eyes underneath my eyelids, I forced myself to picture a blank screen. I’d been reduced to forced napping, but that was better than the alternative of no sleep at all.

ETHAN

“Whoa.” I let out a low whistle as I took in the scene in front of me. Lissa spun around from the kitchen counter, a wide grin on her face. She was wearing my boxers and one of my T-shirts knotted at the side, and she was covered in flour from head to toe. Bowls and measuring cups and spatulas were spilling out of the sink, and on the floor was Thomas. He was playing with a Tupperware bowl full of flour, clapping his hands while clouds of white powder puffed all around him.

“He’s having fun!” Lissa shrugged, hands held out to the side. “And I’ve learned to let go.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” I started to laugh and walk closer. Carefully.

I paused to consider if I really wanted to be covered in flour, but since I was already covered in dirt and sweat, why the hell not? I extended my arms around Lissa, moving like I was going to pull her in for a hug, but instead I rubbed my hands in the flour on the counter before strategically placing them on her ass. Then I pulled her close and lowered my lips to her smile. When I felt her body melt into mine, I teased her lips with my tongue, deepening our kiss into a long and languorous one. She groaned as she pulled away.

“I wish we could do that all day,” she said.

“There are a lot of things I wish we could do all day.”

“That too.” She winked. “Help me clean up this mess and you might just get lucky!”

“You drive a hard bargain. You better make it worth my effort.”

I jumped out of the way when she started twisting a dish towel up to snap at me.

“Let me ask a question,” I said as I plopped down on the floor next to Thomas, kissing his head. He patted his flour-covered hands on my cheeks. “Did you actually make cupcakes? Or just play in them?”

Lissa gestured to the right of the oven where a glass-domed cake stand was stacked with incredible-looking vanilla cupcakes covered with fluffy white frosting and blue sprinkles. I felt bad for questioning her.

“I’ll never doubt you again.” I shook my head.

“See that you don’t.” She pursed her lips at me and nodded.

“Why don’t you go shower, my amazing and talented wife, while Thomas and I clean up.”

“Really?” She scrunched up her nose. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. Sir Thomas and I need man time anyway. Go.”

She shrugged and tiptoed into the mudroom where she stripped off her dirty clothes, then walked naked through the kitchen and into the bedroom, winking at me as she went. I looked down at Thomas.

“Your mom is incredible, you know that?”

He smiled at me with a toothless, powdery grin.