Maybe even years. He just wasn’t motivated to speak and since his family never expected him to, they all just got used to him being silent.” I’d had several conversations with the doctor on the phone and over video chat and he confirmed that although he did want to see Liam in the office for tests at some point, he didn’t think he’d be able to give any definitive answers either way. “Brain injuries are all different. They can manifest and disappear in many unique ways. We might never have all the answers.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Tyler nodded his head as he reached for his beer again. “And does it even matter? I mean, he’s getting better and he didn’t need any crazy oxygen deprivation or electrocution to do it.”
“Cheers to that.” I lifted my beer and tapped the edge of Tyler’s. “You need to come by some time to meet him.”
“I’d like that.”
“Maybe in a few weeks. I’ll bring it up and slowly get him used to the idea. He’s still worried about strangers who might be doctors in disguise.” I smiled as I thought about a conversation I had with Avery. “Apparently, his parents used to have speech therapists come over in superhero costumes when he was a kid. He hated them.”
Tyler laughed out loud. “Uh, yeah. He was twelve, right? I doubt he was into that stuff at that age.”
“So, I’ve been taking some online classes.”
Tyler’s jaw dropped and he cocked his head. “Yeah? At Notre Dame?”
I almost choked on my beer. “God, no. They’d never let me back. Not even online.”
“So what kind of classes?”
I spun the coaster on its edge, feeling a little self-conscious about what I was working on. “Speech coaching.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Like for actors and singers and shit like that?”
I laughed at his spot-on assessment. “Basically, yes. But I’m using the techniques to work with Liam. Getting him to practice using his voice and throat in ways he hasn’t in a really long time.”
“I’ll bet,” Tyler said under his breath.
I kicked him under the table. “Shut up. I think it’s helping.”
“I’m sure it is.” He smiled and raised his hands. “I’m just kidding. I think it’s a great idea and if it helps him, even better. Besides, once he’s better, you’re gonna lose this sweet gig you’ve got going for you so you’re gonna need some kind of career to fall back on.”
I sighed and popped a fry into my mouth. “Yeah, I probably only have a few months left with the Brenners. So I’ve got to make them count.”
I’d do anything to help Liam with his progress, and if learning ways to speed up his speech development made that easier for both of us, I was committed to doing it. I hadn’t mentioned the classes to the Brenners because I didn’t want them to have any high expectations for me. These first classes just taught me the basics, and I couldn’t provide real speech therapy like a trained SLP could. But since Liam refused to see a speech language pathologist, I was the best they had.
In addition to his speech development, Liam was generally more aware of everything around him. When I first met him, he often seemed like he was zoned out of conversations and didn’t care about anything that didn’t directly involve him. Now, he was more interested in people and things he used to ignore. He was observant all the time, paying attention to every word people said and truly comprehending them.
I shouldn’t have been surprised when that attention manifested most obviously in his paintings.
From the first day I’d spent with him, Liam always painted the same abstract scene. When he started to paint the camping scene I’d described, I was so touched by the gesture, I didn’t put a lot of thought into how he was able to do it. But as his developmental progress continued, his artistic skills did too. Without any discussion or requests by anyone in the house, Liam started to create pictures of scenes from his daily life. Sometimes it was a meal he’d eaten or a bird he saw on a tree branch.
But every time was from memory and with striking accuracy.
“The detail here is amazing, bud.” I pointed at the fireplace in the living room he’d painted. Not only did he capture the texture of the stonework, but you could even see the framed portraits on the mantle with impressive clarity. “You could probably sell these.”
“Okay.” He looked