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“Finished?” I asked once he’d stopped drawing. He gave me his sad eyes again and nodded. It was a small action, but it was something.
“You did great, Hugo. Do you mind if I take a look?”
He slid the card across to me. Thankfully, I could just make out the football field and huge bird-like man in the center.
My lips curved as I realized what he was telling me. “You’d like to go to the Lincoln Financial Field and meet Swoop, huh?”
Emotion welled inside me. It was something so innocent and pure, it made my heart ache.
“Well, I can’t promise anything,” because that was the number one rule of working with kids—no promises—“but I’m going to see what I can do, okay?”
A flicker of interest passed over his face.
“But you have to do something for me too.”
His expression fell.
“I’m going to put your wish in this envelope and we’re going to keep it over there on that bookcase.” I pointed at shelves across the room. “See.” Taking the pen, I stuffed the card inside the envelope and wrote ‘Hugo’ across the front. “It’s going to stay right there... and when you’re ready to try to make it come true, all you have to do is ask me.”
His eyes widened a little, fear glittering there.
“I know it’s scary,” I spoke gently. “I know you haven’t spoken to anyone in a really long time, but you don’t have to be afraid anymore, okay? The Hansons are a good family. They want you and your brothers to feel safe.
“It doesn’t have to be today or the next time we meet, but I’d really like it, if, one day, you use your voice to ask me for the envelope.”
Hugo studied me, his murky brown eyes fixed on mine. I wanted to know what he was thinking, what he saw when he looked at me. But I knew it wasn’t that simple. In this field, patience was your best friend. Progress was often made in baby steps, and just when you thought you were moving forward, something would happen to set you back again.
“Do you think you can give it a try? I’ll put the envelope over there for safe keeping, and when you’re ready to ask me for it, I’ll be right here waiting.”
Hugo shifted on his chair and I hated that it was because I was pushing him into a state of discomfort. But I’d read up a lot on selective mutism and it often came hand in hand with social anxiety disorder. Overcoming it wasn’t going to be easy, but he was still young. With the right interventions and support, there was no reason why Hugo couldn’t slowly regain his speech and confidence.
But then he looked at me again, and although he didn’t nod, I saw his answer.
Hugo would try.
And I would wait.
Asher
“I’m sorry I missed your dad,” Mya said as we lay in bed.
“It’s okay. Rough night?” She’d gotten home a little after ten.
“I offered to stay and help Sally clean up.”
“Of course you did.” I smiled, stroking her warm skin. “How did it go with the kid?”
“I’m not sure yet. But I’m hoping it’ll reach him.” She snuggled closer. “So what brought your dad to Philly?”
“I wanted to talk to him, and he offered to drive up.”
Mya rolled onto her stomach, gazing up at me. “What did you need to talk to him about?” Her nose scrunched up.
“Things.”
“Things.” Her brow arched with suspicion, and I chuckled.
“I wanted to feel him out about opening a second branch of his business here.”
