Page 36 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

I touched his knee. “You did good.” He leaned toward me. “I know you don’t like it.” His fingers closed around mine.

Tasha gave him a moment, then placed three large plastic rings on the table in front of him. They were red, yellow, and blue.

“Malik, give me the red ring.” He stared at them. “Red,” she repeated, touching the front of her red shirt. His gaze followed her hand to the shirt, then returned to the rings. He reached for the yellow one. Tasha stopped his hand gently. “That’s yellow. This is red.” She picked up the red ring and held it where he could see. Then she placed it back on the table. “Now you try. Give me red.”

Malik didn’t move.

She touched his forearm and guided his hand toward the correct ring. His fingers curled loosely around it, and together they lifted it from the table.

“Good. Red.” She returned it. “Can you give it to me?”

His hand hovered above the table. He reached for the red ring this time, but his fingers pushed it farther away instead of closing around it. A fussy whine came from him.

“That’s all right,” Tasha said. “Let’s bring it closer.”

She moved the ring within easier reach. Malik turned his face away.

“Come on, baby,” I said. “You can do it.”

His eyes glistened when he looked at me. The sight filled me with sorrow. He wasn’t angry. He didn’t understand why we kept asking him to do something unpleasant when he wanted to be left alone. He only knew his body wasn’t giving us what we wanted, and he was tired of trying.

Tasha softened her voice. “Let’s let Mama show you.”

She handed me the ring.

I sat in front of him. “Look, Malik.”

I placed it on the table, reached for it slowly, and lifted it. “Red.” Then I put it back. “Your turn.” He watched my hand as I repeated the motion.

When I returned the ring, he reached for it. His fingers landed on it, slipped, then tried again. This time, he hooked two fingers through the center and dragged it toward himself.

“Yes!” I smiled. “That’s it.”

Tasha held out her palm. “Give it to me.”

He looked at her hand, then at the ring.

I tapped her palm. “Put it here.”

Malik lifted the ring. His arm shook with the effort, but he moved it toward her. The edge struck her fingers before falling to the mat.

Tasha clapped. “You did it.”

I joined her, ignoring the tightness in my throat. “Good job, baby.”

A small smile appeared on his face. I reached for my phone and began recording when Tasha introduced the next activity. Amelia wanted to see his progress, and I would send her the best parts. But the camera wouldn’t show everything it took to reach those moments.

Tasha brought over a gait trainer near the end of the session. Malik began fussing the moment he saw it.

“I know,” I murmured. “Just for a little while.”

With both of us supporting him, we secured him inside. The harness held his weight while his feet touched the floor.

“Push down, Malik,” Tasha instructed.

He stared at her. She pressed her own foot firmly against the floor. “Push.”

Then she placed her hands above his knees and helped straighten his legs. Malik made another unhappy sound. His eyes found mine.