me his views on the matter: “She’ll get him back. He’s got some behavioral issues, sure, but he seems like a fairly normal kid.” I pressed my lips together, not wanting to remind Nick that three days ago Dylan had been too weird for him. Now that he was possibly going, he was normal again? “It’s not as if he’s been abused,” he continued as he unbuttoned his shirt. “He doesn’t have a mark on him.”
“There are different forms of abuse.”
Nick shrugged. “He looks pretty healthy to me—well-fed, clean. You know. Anyway, the government can’t take kids away for no good reason. It’s got to be something serious.”
I didn’t answer, because his vague, sweeping statements were completely absurd. DCF did take kids away, for all sorts of reasons. You heard the horror stories—innocent parents whose child had a bruise from a stray ball during gym class and all of a sudden DCF swept in and removed him. And then the flipside—the poor children who were horrifically abused and somehow the social workers missed it. I didn’t understand how both could exist simultaneously, but I knew they did.
“What time would Beth like to come over?” I ask Monica.
“Two o’clock?”
That’s in less than two hours. “Okay. Should I… should I tell Dylan?” I lower my voice because he’s in the family room, absorbed in building a tower of Lego, just as Nick wished he would.
“Yes, I think that would be a good idea. The visit will last an hour, and Beth would like to see Dylan’s room, hear a little bit about how he’s been doing.”
“Okay.”
As I end the call, I wonder why I feel so nervous, the way I did the first day Dylan came to us—only a week ago, but it feels like a lifetime. I feel almost like a different person.
I’m certainly a lot more confident with Dylan. He’s still waking up at night, and I’m still spending most nights sleeping next to him, but the days have been going pretty well.
Well, they’re okay. He still screams sometimes and at least once or twice a day he has a complete and total meltdown—on the floor, kicking and screaming, spending himself utterly, but I wait it out and we are able to move on.
Of course, the rest of my life has been put almost completely on hold. I still haven’t managed to call Emma, and I can’t remember the last time I had a proper conversation with Josh, or even Nick, about something other than foster care.
My work, which usually takes twenty hours a week, has been whittled down to two and I am way behind the accounts for several of the firms I work for. I haven’t had a catchup with any of my friends, except for that semi-awkward drink with Julie, since Dylan came to us, and I can’t see it happening anytime soon.
I’ve already RSVPed to my book club, saying I couldn’t come to our meeting this month. I hadn’t even read the book, and the thought of discussing plot elements and literary themes makes my brain hurt. I’m way too tired for that.
I glance around the kitchen, which is pretty clean, and then I head over to where Dylan is lying on the carpet.
“Hey, Dylan.” He doesn’t look at me, but he tenses a little, so I know he’s listening. “Guess what? Your mom is going to come visit you today.” I’ve injected a note of enthusiasm into my voice, expecting Dylan to perk up a little, but he scrambles off the floor, knocking the tower apart in the process, and runs to the front door and starts yanking at the handle; thankfully I’ve already taken the precaution of locking it, after Josh left for school.
“Hey, not so fast.” I try for a laugh, although I am discomfited by the intensity of his response. “I can see you’re excited to see her, but she’s not coming yet, Dylan. Not for a couple of hours.” I touch his shoulder gently. “Why don’t you come finish the tower with me?”
Dylan flinches away from me, shaking his head firmly. He is standing by the door, his hands resting on the window ledge as he stares out at the driveway with focused determination, a sentinel at his post.
I try again. “Dylan, your mom isn’t going to be here for a long time. Why don’t you come back into the kitchen?”
Another shake of his head, firmer and longer this time, a back and forth that must make him dizzy. I sense