“Oh, Devlin . . .” Dora’s eyes filled. He was hitting her in all her most vulnerable places.
“Hell, woman, I love you. You won’t marry me. Won’t even get engaged. Seems to me the least you can do is rent my cottage with no strings attached. To do less is just not kind.”
Dora laughed then, a soft, trilling laugh that sounded to her ears like happiness. She leaned against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes, all right.” She rolled her eyes in mock resignation. “I’ll rent your cottage.”
“That’s good. Real good.”
Chapter Ten
Nooooo! I won’t go!”
Harper and Taylor halted their discussion about where to place the light fixture, looking at each other in alarm.
It was mid-August in the lowcountry, which meant the children who lived here throughout the year—from frightened first-graders to seasoned high schoolers—were dressed in clean clothes, armed with new books, backpacks, supplies, and a haircut, and marching into schools at the sound of the bell.
Except Nate.
“I won’t go! You can’t make me!” Nate screamed again.
From down the hall they heard Dora’s voice, cajoling and high-pitched, clash with Nate’s insistent, angry refusals.
Harper set down her coffee cup and, leaning against the counter, crossed her arms to listen. She glanced at Taylor. He stood motionless, head cocked. “It’s the first day of school for Nate,” she explained. “He’s been homeschooled all his life. So this is all new for him. With Asperger’s, he doesn’t take to change very well.”
“Sounds like he’s freaking out,” Taylor said, concerned.
As if to confirm Taylor’s statement, Nate began screaming again, shouting “No” over and over, each time sounding more hysterical.
“This could go on for a while,” murmured Harper.
Taylor stood silently but his gaze was blank, as if his mind were somewhere else.
After several more minutes of screaming, Dora came into the kitchen looking disheveled, frustrated, and exhausted. She sighed and placed her hands on the counter, leaning against it with her head bowed. “God help me.”
Harper came to her side and delicately placed her hand on Dora’s shoulder.
“He’s going into a total meltdown. I knew this morning would be tough for him, but I did everything I could to defuse the tension. We talked about the new school all last week, visited it several times. He even met his teachers. Last night we went over his new routine. We prepared. We really did!”
Harper saw the tears in Dora’s eyes. “I know. We all know you did.”
“He wouldn’t get out of bed! He woke up and flatly said that he wasn’t going to go to school. The more I tried to be encouraging, the more he freaked out.”
“He bottled it all up. And this morning when the top popped off, he exploded.”
Dora nodded. “I used to be able to hold him during one of his tantrums, but he’s too big. I’m not strong enough anymore. Not when he gets this riled. I tried to soothe him but I’m at my wit’s end.” She put her hand to her face and said in a choked voice, “I don’t know what to do.”
In the background Nate was still screaming out of control. Harper didn’t know what she could do to help.
“Do you mind if I go see him?” asked Taylor.
Harper swung her head around, surprised by the offer. Taylor stepped closer, and his usually taciturn face was soft with concern.
Dora sniffed, wiped her eyes, and looked at Taylor with confusion. “Why?”
“I know something about meltdowns. I might be able to help.”
Dora shrugged. “Go ahead. I’ll try anything.”
Taylor nodded. “Okay then.” He turned and went to the porch door. Opening it, he whistled, sharp and short. In an instant, Thor was at the door. “He’s a therapy dog. He knows how to behave in these situations.” When Dora nodded, Taylor gave a discreet hand signal. Thor trotted to his side. “Come on, boy.” Then Taylor said to Harper, “Which room is he in?”
“It’s right down the hall.”
“I’ll show you.” Dora led Harper and Taylor to the library room, where Nate slept. Though the door was closed, the boy’s screams could be heard loud and clear. Taylor paused at the door, then turned to the two women.
“I should go in alone. With Thor. I’ll leave the door open so he isn’t scared. Is that okay with you?”
Dora looked at Harper questioningly. When Harper nodded in the affirmative, Dora said, “Yes.”
Thor sniffed at the door and whined softly. Clearly he wanted in. Taylor patted the dog’s huge head, then opened the door. Moving slowly, Taylor entered the room. Thor followed, his nose to the ground sniffing. Harper and Dora stayed at the door, watching.
The curtains were open and sunshine poured in. Papers, books, toys, and clothes littered the floor, obviously tossed by an angry Nate, who was lying on the carpet, flapping his hands hysterically in the air and stomping his feet in a fury, shouting barely coherently through the screams, “No. You can’t make me.”
Taylor stood in the middle of the room a moment, hands on his hips, assessing. He walked to the television and browsed the video games. He selected one and started the game up. Then he attached two remotes and sat on the floor in front of the screen. He set one remote by his side and began playing the game with the other. To Harper’s eyes it appeared as though he were totally ignoring the boy, but she knew better. When the game started, she recognized it as the one she’d purchased for Nate, a cooperative game that was meant for two players.
Meanwhile Thor circled the room, nose to the ground, eyes on Nate. As she watched, she noticed the big dog’s circles getting tighter and smaller till he was circling the screaming boy, who was ignoring the dog. Thor finally stopped in front of Nate, whining with sympathy. He stepped closer and nudged Nate with his nose.
Nate sucked in his breath, startled, and momentarily snapped out of his hysteria. He stared at the dog, then waved his hand. “Go away!”
Thor immediately lowered his head and began licking Nate’s hand, which Nate allowed. Though he was still sobbing, great heaving sobs, the shouting stopped. Harper could see Nate was being soothed by the licking. Taylor glanced over his shoulder at the action but didn’t move from his seat. He kept his focus on the video game, his back to Nate.