carefully.
"It can. And I know it, and I invited her into the fray anyhow, even after Lauren gave us really clear warning." Nell's frustration puffed out over her coffee. "But she couldn't even handle sitting in the back yard with no kiddos in sight. Something about the grass - it was hard to read anything over her agitation."
Damn. Grass drove Jacob crazy, too. "It's possible she finds some of the normal sights and sounds of life overstimulating. Lots of kids with autism do." And the Walker household, even in its quiet moments, wasn't exactly normal.
"Even grass?" Nell looked totally perplexed, lost in a forest of words that made no sense.
And there were so many possible trees. Every person with autism was different. Lauren leaned forward, trying to figure out where to start. "Is she okay?"
"I don't know." Nell's mind was coated in forlorn guilt. "She's a challenge to read, and I was pretty upset. Trying not to scratch at her for failing to love my girls instantly."
"What happened with the girls?" Moira frowned, ready to defend her lovelies.
"They asked her to help with the party." Nell's voice was quiet, but her mind was nearly growling, a mama bear ready to take a swing. "She reacted like they'd shot her or something."
The hurt under the anger slammed into Lauren's head. Frack. She'd asked about the wrong witch first - the one right in front of her wasn't okay. To Nell, Beth's reactions had felt like rejection - of Witch Central, and of her girls. Spears to the heart.
Six months as Devin's wife told her what to do. She leaned forward, took Nell's hands in hers, and let the love show in her eyes. When you were dealing with a Sullivan who hurt, you healed the heart first.
"Damn, don't do that." Nell leaned back and closed her eyes.
And now the heart would be able to listen.
Nell sighed. "I just... she's already shaky, and somehow she found the courage to come out here anyhow. And I messed up."
Lauren tried to choose her words carefully - the line between fragile and different was a murky one, and they weren't all on the same side of it here. "I don't know Beth very well, but when I work with kids on the autism spectrum, there are a lot of things that look like defiance, or selfishness, or a lack of interest."
"Okay." The confused look was back. "But they're not?"
"Sometimes." Lauren smiled. "We all feel that way sometimes. But more often, they're a kid who can't handle the world very well, or the situation they're in." She tried to channel Nat's gentleness. "It's possible Beth was just overloaded by sunny skies and grass under her feet and your very wonderful children, and not able to consider what you were offering her."
It took a while, but the mama-bear edge to Nell's mind finally ebbed. "Shit."
That about covered it.
"It's not very often you step wrong, my dear." Moira's brisk voice had them both looking up in surprise. "But it's a rare misstep that can't be fixed. Surely you can try again tomorrow."
Lauren hid her grin - so much for letting Nell wallow in self-pity.
"I can't." Nell's voice was calmer now, but her concern was mounting. "She's ready to leave, and much as I'd like to be the person to fix it - " She paused, digging for words. "We don't mesh well. She sees things very differently than I do. Approaches magic very differently."
"You've dealt with difficult trainees."
Lauren frowned - Moira wasn't letting Nell off this particular hook.
"I know, but this was more than difficult. My instincts were way off base with her. I'd like to try again." Nell held up a hand to ward off any protest. "I need to try again. But not now. She needs someone better able to read her or she's going to board the next flight back to Chicago."
"Well, then." Moira looked over at Lauren, eyes twinkling. "It seems I've heard that you're a fine witch in a tight negotiation."
Lauren rolled her eyes as the swift moves of a master meddler neatly fell into place. Nobody out-negotiated the Irish. "She might find a sweet old lady a