The Perfect Child(36)



There was little history to give, but we did the best we could. We spent most of our time describing her medical issues, since that was what we knew the most about. We took turns describing the progression from when she had gotten into the hospital and the current status of her issues, making sure not to forget any of the therapy work she was already doing. Dr. Chandler spent a significant amount of time focusing on her rage episodes, asking us to describe the triggers and what we’d done to try to alleviate them.

Time flew, and our session was over ten minutes before the end of the hour. We booked a session for the following week even though I wasn’t sure we’d accomplished anything.

“I really enjoyed meeting the two of you, and I look forward to getting to know your family,” Dr. Chandler said as she walked us to the door.

We were quiet as we walked to the car.

“Do you want to drive home?” I asked. She hated the way I drove. She said I drove too jerkily, and it made her carsick.

She shook her head.

Hannah stared out the window as we drove, her lips pursed the way they were when she was deep in thought. I knew better than to interrupt. She would come to me when she was ready. I just hoped it was soon. I hated fighting with her. It didn’t happen very often, so I was always thrown off by it when it did. I hoped we could find our way back to feeling like we were on the same team.





TWENTY-ONE

HANNAH BAUER

I tried to keep my face neutral as Janie kicked the back of my seat while I drove her to her first appointment with Dr. Chandler. I’d asked her to stop twice, but as always, she’d acted like she hadn’t heard me. Dr. Chandler had to do something. I was at my limit, especially after what had happened at Target yesterday. It had been the second time she’d pulled a stunt like that.

We’d stopped at Target to grab a few things, and she had skipped in front of me down the beauty section while I had grabbed my conditioner. Suddenly, she had put her hand out and started knocking down the row of shampoo bottles like they were dominoes.

“Janie, no!”

She had ignored me and kept walking. I had scrambled to grab things as they’d fallen. She had walked to the end without stopping, turned, and headed back in my direction. She’d reached out her arm to continue knocking down the bottles on the other side. Bottles had covered the floor.

I had grabbed her arms. “Stop!”

She had jerked away. She’d swatted down more bottles. One of them had popped open on impact, and liquid had spread across the aisle.

“Stop!” I had yelled.

She had paused, and for a second, I had thought she was done, but she had turned and looked at me, challenge written all over her face.

I had done my best to keep my voice calm. “You cannot make a mess in the store.” I had pointed to the bottles. “You are going to help me pick these up and put them back on the shelves.”

She had stuck her tongue out and bolted before I had had a chance to respond. I had looked at the mess she’d made—horrified that I had to leave it—and run after her. She hadn’t been in the main aisle. I had looked left to right. I’d walked fast up and down aisles, eyes continually scanning for her or any sign of her—her purple shirt, the top of her blonde hair, her pink slip-ons. I had almost reached full panic mode when I had spotted her ducking into one of the aisles on the other side. I had bolted after her.

This time she’d been knocking over paper towels. I had scooped them up as quickly as she had knocked them over, but it hadn’t taken long before my arms had been overflowing and things had fallen onto the floor. I had grabbed her arm and pulled her back before she could do anything else.

“Mommy, stop! You’re hurting me!” she had screamed at the top of her lungs just as a woman had come around the corner. The woman had given me the most horrified look.

I had tried to explain what was going on, but I’d sounded like an idiot. I had been so furious on our drive home that I hadn’t said a word, and I’d basically been ignoring her since. It was childish and immature of me, but I couldn’t help myself. I hoped Dr. Chandler was as good with troubled kids and families as Piper had said, because we needed help.

She was in her office when we arrived, and Janie rushed over to her like she did with every new person she met. Strangers were some of her favorite people.

“You must be Janie. I’m Dr. Chandler,” the doctor said with a smile.

“Nice to meet you,” Janie said, smiling in return.

“Did Christopher and Hannah tell you anything about me?”

She shook her head.

“I know you’ve had lots of doctors before, but I’m a special kind of doctor. I’m a feelings doctor for kids. Do you know what that is?”

Janie tilted her head to the side, puzzled. “A feelings doctor?”

“Yes, my job is to help kids learn about feelings, but mostly we just play. Do you like to play?”

Janie’s eyes lit up. “We get to play?” She pointed around the room. “With these toys?”

“You sure do. What do you want to play with first?”

Janie skipped over to the dollhouse in the corner. I hadn’t noticed it when Christopher and I had been there by ourselves. It was almost three feet tall with two stories. There was miniature doll furniture in every room, and the bedrooms had actual carpet. Someone had taken a lot of time to put it together and added special touches like knitted blankets on the beds and tiny throw pillows on all the couches. It was every little girl’s dream house.

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