A Christmas Prayer: An Autistic Child, a Father's Love, a Woman's Heart (Christmas Romance) by Linda Wood Rondeau Page B
Authors: Linda Wood Rondeau
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not any one.”
“Ethan is not your usual bad-boy fling.”
“He’s still a distraction.”
“Girl, you need a distraction like him: sexy and available. Not to mention rich.”
“I don’t care about any of those things. I only care about Gib.”
Jasmine put her hands to her hips, a non-verbal tsk , swinging her head back and forth in rhythmic sync to her tirade. “Girl, listen to you getting all noble and self-righteous. God doesn’t need you to do the sacrificing. Do you think He expects you to throw away the rest of your life to satisfy a promise God never asked you to make in the first place? How will being miserable help Gib?”
“Speaking of Gib, where is he?”
As if on cue, he bounded down the stairs. “Ethan here?”
“He’s outside with Kyle and Tom. He’ll be inside soon. Did you behave for Jasmine?”
“Of course.”
Jasmine shrugged her shoulders. “Of course. After we watched Avatar, we played a game of Sorry . Gib reinvented how the game is played.”
“You watched Avatar already?”
“Afraid so. He’s off kilter today, like his robotic chronometer has malfunctioned.”
He squinted. “My head hurts.”
Oh dear. Not now.
Stumbling into the kitchen, Gib stood in front of the locked refrigerator. Alexis followed him in. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded.
“What do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know.” Tears welled as the moans began.
This spell isn’t going to be pretty.
Gib jumped with the knock at the door. “Probably Ethan. Jasmine, would you let him in, please?” Jasmine quietly saluted and went to let Ethan in. “Alexis and Gib are in the kitchen,” she said.
Alexis closed her eyes, picturing Ethan’s revulsion over what he was about to witness.
Ethan halted when he saw Gib’s balled fists flail as if in full tremor. He bellowed like a cow giving birth. No time for empathy; her brother’s safety depended upon her detachment and cool calm. “Gib’s heading for a meltdown. If he runs past you, don’t try to grab him. All the doors are locked.”
Ethan acknowledged with a nod.
“Gib … take four deep breaths.”
No response, Gib’s bellows became roars.
Ethan gripped the dining room chair. “What happened?”
“I’ll explain later. Try singing … something soft. He hates my singing. I can’t carry a tune.”
Ethan’s melodic Mary’s Lullaby performed magic. The roars ebbed, and Gib began to sob, large tears soaking his cheeks. Alexis helped him to the recliner. “Ethan, would you stay in the living room with Gib and keep singing. Jasmine—”
“I know the drill … Mickey’s Diner—chicken—legs only and banana cream pie. Put it on your account.”
“Did Gib have any lunch?”
“He asked for a fried baloney sandwich with ketchup. He only ate half of a half. At least he drank all his Ensure.”
“Well, go … fly like the wind, as they say in the movies, and hurry back.”
Alexis returned to the living room and sat on the arm of the recliner. As Ethan continued the song, Gib’s sobs quieted and his eyes drooped. “Do you want to lie down now?”
He nodded as he dragged himself upstairs.
Ethan’s face contorted into a huge question mark. He glanced at his Rolex. “Kind of early for bed, isn’t it?”
“Gib needs to rest after one of these episodes. Sometimes he goes into a deep sleep and doesn’t wake until morning. He’ll be starving and want his chicken for breakfast.”
Ethan helped her to the couch next to him. “He seemed fine at church.”
“These spells come on all at once without much warning.”
“Does he have them a lot?”
“When I first came, Gib had them quite often. Over the last few months they’ve been sporadic.”
“Anything trigger them?”
“Most of the time, I have no idea what sets him off. The counselor says the spells might be more severe because of the grieving process or the onset of puberty or both.”
Ethan slipped his arm around her and she instinctively leaned against his
“Ethan is not your usual bad-boy fling.”
“He’s still a distraction.”
“Girl, you need a distraction like him: sexy and available. Not to mention rich.”
“I don’t care about any of those things. I only care about Gib.”
Jasmine put her hands to her hips, a non-verbal tsk , swinging her head back and forth in rhythmic sync to her tirade. “Girl, listen to you getting all noble and self-righteous. God doesn’t need you to do the sacrificing. Do you think He expects you to throw away the rest of your life to satisfy a promise God never asked you to make in the first place? How will being miserable help Gib?”
“Speaking of Gib, where is he?”
As if on cue, he bounded down the stairs. “Ethan here?”
“He’s outside with Kyle and Tom. He’ll be inside soon. Did you behave for Jasmine?”
“Of course.”
Jasmine shrugged her shoulders. “Of course. After we watched Avatar, we played a game of Sorry . Gib reinvented how the game is played.”
“You watched Avatar already?”
“Afraid so. He’s off kilter today, like his robotic chronometer has malfunctioned.”
He squinted. “My head hurts.”
Oh dear. Not now.
Stumbling into the kitchen, Gib stood in front of the locked refrigerator. Alexis followed him in. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded.
“What do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know.” Tears welled as the moans began.
This spell isn’t going to be pretty.
Gib jumped with the knock at the door. “Probably Ethan. Jasmine, would you let him in, please?” Jasmine quietly saluted and went to let Ethan in. “Alexis and Gib are in the kitchen,” she said.
Alexis closed her eyes, picturing Ethan’s revulsion over what he was about to witness.
Ethan halted when he saw Gib’s balled fists flail as if in full tremor. He bellowed like a cow giving birth. No time for empathy; her brother’s safety depended upon her detachment and cool calm. “Gib’s heading for a meltdown. If he runs past you, don’t try to grab him. All the doors are locked.”
Ethan acknowledged with a nod.
“Gib … take four deep breaths.”
No response, Gib’s bellows became roars.
Ethan gripped the dining room chair. “What happened?”
“I’ll explain later. Try singing … something soft. He hates my singing. I can’t carry a tune.”
Ethan’s melodic Mary’s Lullaby performed magic. The roars ebbed, and Gib began to sob, large tears soaking his cheeks. Alexis helped him to the recliner. “Ethan, would you stay in the living room with Gib and keep singing. Jasmine—”
“I know the drill … Mickey’s Diner—chicken—legs only and banana cream pie. Put it on your account.”
“Did Gib have any lunch?”
“He asked for a fried baloney sandwich with ketchup. He only ate half of a half. At least he drank all his Ensure.”
“Well, go … fly like the wind, as they say in the movies, and hurry back.”
Alexis returned to the living room and sat on the arm of the recliner. As Ethan continued the song, Gib’s sobs quieted and his eyes drooped. “Do you want to lie down now?”
He nodded as he dragged himself upstairs.
Ethan’s face contorted into a huge question mark. He glanced at his Rolex. “Kind of early for bed, isn’t it?”
“Gib needs to rest after one of these episodes. Sometimes he goes into a deep sleep and doesn’t wake until morning. He’ll be starving and want his chicken for breakfast.”
Ethan helped her to the couch next to him. “He seemed fine at church.”
“These spells come on all at once without much warning.”
“Does he have them a lot?”
“When I first came, Gib had them quite often. Over the last few months they’ve been sporadic.”
“Anything trigger them?”
“Most of the time, I have no idea what sets him off. The counselor says the spells might be more severe because of the grieving process or the onset of puberty or both.”
Ethan slipped his arm around her and she instinctively leaned against his
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