A Christmas Prayer: An Autistic Child, a Father's Love, a Woman's Heart (Christmas Romance)

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A Christmas Prayer: An Autistic Child, a Father's Love, a Woman's Heart (Christmas Romance) Page 2

by Rondeau, Linda Wood


  “Are you going to take my brother away so close to Christmas?”

  He stared at the barren pine tree on its side in the corner. “Couldn’t tell it’s coming on Christmas by this house. Don’t you believe in decorations?”

  Alexis glared at Gib. “I decorated it last week. Go ahead Gib, tell Kyle why I took down the Christmas tree.”

  “I got headaches.”

  Alexis shrugged. “See what I’m up against? He claims the lights gave him headaches so he tore down every decoration I put up.”

  “She won’t buy me any presents,” Gib shouted.

  “Not true, Gib. You know very well my friend Jasmine has your presents and will bring them over Christmas Eve. That is, if the house is still standing.”

  Kyle’s smile disappeared. “I spoke briefly with Donna. She said this fire was probably an accident. It still adds up to poor supervision, Alexis. I’d like to talk to Gib before I decide what to do.” Kyle sat on the torn leather couch across from the recliner. “Hello, Gib.”

  Gib smiled back, gifting Kyle with all his closeted charm. “Hello Officer Connolly.”

  “I’m here because of the fire.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “I didn’t say you did. I wanted to know if you saw the fire.”

  “No. I was reading my book.”

  Kyle leaned forward, his kind eyes meeting Gib’s hardening features head on. “The fire’s out and no one was hurt. That’s the good thing. Do you ever go into the shed?”

  “Sometimes. When Alexis takes my books away I go in there to read.”

  “Do you put the heater on when you do?”

  “If it’s cold.”

  “When was the last time?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  Kyle raised his eyebrows, his former calm obliterated with Gib’s resistance.

  “Are my comics okay?” Gib asked as he kicked the recliner.

  “The ones in the metal box are only singed. Everything else is gone.”

  “My special comics were all in the box, so they didn’t get burned up.”

  Alexis shook with cascading emotions. “I had stuff out there, too, Gib, like my college yearbooks. They’re gone now.”

  “So? I didn’t start the fire!”

  No use trying to get sympathy from a dry well. Of course he’d be fixated on his own treasures. Except for his Ethan Jacobs CDs, Gib valued his comic books even above his miniature cars, and he was never without his favorite Hot Wheels in his pockets. He counted every one he owned before he went to sleep. If one went missing, she always had to turn the house upside down until she found it or Gib would be up all night. Knowledge of his compromised rationality was one thing. Coping with his compulsions was quite another.

  Kyle peered toward Alexis, his eyes wide with concern. “Gib, why don’t you go to your room for a few minutes and let me talk to your sister. Okay?”

  “Fine.” Gib stomped his attitude with his ascent.

  When he was out of sight, Alexis let the tears flow. “He doesn’t get it. He might have been killed if he’d been out there.”

  Kyle motioned for Alexis to sit. “For most autistic kids, cause and effect don’t compute.”

  “Am I going to lose my brother?”

  “I’ll have to report the fire, of course. But I don’t think anyone will rush in to take Gib immediately. I don’t see an imminent risk so I’m recommending he stay with you for now, especially since there’s a hearing after Christmas. I won’t lie to you, Alexis. If I’m asked whether I think Gib is safe for the long-term, I’d have to argue for placement. I’m sorry.”

  “What will happen to him? Hasn’t he lost enough? My parents die and now he loses his home? How can God let an innocent suffer so much?” Foolish to blame God for her failings. “I do love him. I don’t care if he’s adopted. He’s still my brother.”

  “With kids like Gib, sometimes love isn’t enough. How’s the after-school program at the Gideon Foundation working out?”

  Alexis walked to the fireplace, sealed off for Gib’s safety. “He talks as if he likes it there. Unfortunately, all he does is sit on the gym bleachers and listen to music. The staff has tried to engage him in activities. They say he refuses and prefers to sit and watch. I don’t know what more I can do. When school’s closed, I lose work. I’m surprised my editor hasn’t fired me yet.”

  “Buck Kincaid’s a fair man. He’s been with the newspaper a long time.”

  “He does allow me to work at home when there’s no school. But, he wants me to ramp up the coverage on the benefit. I’ll be extra busy.”

  “With Ethan Jacobs as the main event it’ll sell itself. You shouldn’t have to work at it that hard.”

  “It’s been sold out for weeks. But there are so many angles to cover, I’ve been at my wits end trying to do the work and find someone to take care of Gib.”

  “I heard the Gideon Foundation is the recipient this year, Ethan’s favorite charity. I also heard he’s donating a huge chunk of change from the sales of A Christmas Prayer. Since they’re getting all the moola, maybe they’ll write a few articles for you.”

  “I have an interview with Ethan tomorrow and Buck wants me to do the presentation at the Mayor’s Dinner the night before the benefit. I can’t keep imposing on Jasmine.”

  “Why not bring Gib with you?”

  “Too risky. Lately, he’s been off the wall more than he’s been on task. Seems like any new situation throws him into a meltdown. Or, he’s apt to borrow anything not bolted to the floor.”

  “Ethan Jacobs is Gib’s hero, right?”

  Alexis nodded … hero was an understatement.

  “Gib might surprise you if there’s something in it for him, like meeting a legend. Positive reinforcement, they say, can sometimes work better than punishment. I’m moonlighting on Ethan’s security detail. Did you know he’s rented the old Guilford Residence for an extended vacation?”

  “Buck mentioned it. Another angle he wants me to write about. Why would someone of Ethan’s stature want to live in Jasper Falls? Not so much as a McDonald’s.”

  “He’s from here. He graduated with my older brother, Tom. He left town the same year your father took the pastorate at Good Shepherd Church, the year they adopted Gib.”

  “Yes, but why stay here now?”

  Kyle’s infectious laugh pushed through her pain and made her smile in spite of her need to cry. “I was in college when my parents moved here, and I didn’t visit very often after I moved to L.A. There’s a lot about Jasper Falls I don’t know yet and probably should. Maybe if I’d spent more time with Gib before my folks died—”

  “Don’t be hard on yourself, Alexis. Not many children would have tried to care for a disabled sibling.”

  At least someone in Jasper Falls understood. “I’m no heroine, Kyle. I did it because, stranger to me or not, Gib is all the family I have left. I hoped to at least keep him in the only home he’s ever known. Looks as if all my so-called sacrifice has been for nothing. I’m going to lose him, aren’t I?”

  Kyle rubbed his chin. “I’m no psychologist. Seems Gib wasn’t such a handful before your folks died. Maybe he still needs time to grieve. Just because he doesn’t express himself, doesn’t mean he’s absent of feelings.”

  “I don’t want to lose him, Kyle. I do want what’s best for him.”

  “Keep praying, Alexis. I know it looks hopeless right now, but Christmas is the time of miracles. No harm in asking for one.”

  Chapter Two

  Ethan Jacobs placed his guitar against the couch and sat in the leather recliner near the fireplace. He needed privacy for this interview. He’d have to convince his faithful assistant—the wind beneath his wings—to take a day off. No easy task. “So what’s on my agenda today, Max?�


  “You wanted to rest, right?” Max asked.

  “Yep.”

  “You have one appointment this afternoon with Alexis Jennings, a reporter from The Daily Chronicle. Otherwise, you’re clear. I’m a little surprised you agreed to it. You and reporters don’t tango very well.”

  “Figured since this is my hometown, I should give the paper the courtesy. After all, they are spearheading the benefit. I hope they dwell on my accomplishments since sobering up rather than focus on my days as a drunk.”

  Max snorted. His gut-laugh energized the most boring of days. “Doesn’t matter if they do. You never let booze get in the way of a hit song. I wouldn’t worry.”

  He had plenty of negative press before and weathered the hailstorms that followed. The purpose of this interview, unknown to Alexis, fell into a whole different category, and he would need to guard every word. Reporters liked to dig into things, and some holes were better left empty.

  Max tapped his clipboard. “I heard this Alexis gal is a Christian, so I don’t think she’ll be too difficult to deal with. Besides, bad press would only hurt the benefit, and it’s not in the paper’s best interest to go all negative.”

  Max Elliot wasn’t used to the sober Ethan Jacobs yet. No one was, even though he’d celebrate a year of sobriety on Christmas Day. Everyone still waited for him to go back to his binges. It seemed the world was fast to condemn the mighty for falling and slow to applaud when the fallen finally conquered their demons. He supposed the man with the demon called Legion had to fight the hordes of disbelievers after Jesus cleansed him.

  “As you asked, I cleared your calendar for the next few weeks. But I’d like you to rethink canceling the rest of the tour. Why take up residence here, Ethan? Why not buy a ranch in Colorado or a beach house in Florida?”

  Ethan kicked up the recliner, crossed his legs, and pulled his hat over his eyes. Should he clue Max in on why his employer wanted to re-roost in Jasper Falls and why he specifically requested to be interviewed by Alexis Jennings? No. He’d have to leave Max in the dark until Gib’s law guardian gave Ethan the green light.

  “My rehab counselor suggested I revisit my youth and get to the core of what started me on the path to being drunk half the time. Since I’m here for the benefit, might as well stay on a little longer.”

  Max shook his head in agitated disapproval. “This is not a good time to halt your career. A Christmas Prayer has topped the charts. We should take advantage of your heightened popularity, not slow down.”

  Sometimes Max was the Eeyore to Ethan’s Pooh, helping him to see the downside to seemingly whimsical decisions. “I have other reasons, Max. Reasons I can’t discuss right now.”

  Max raised his eyebrows in trusting defeat. “For your sake, I’ll simply have to defer to your counselor’s good judgment.” Max gazed out the picture window. “If you’re from this hick place, no wonder you went from baby formula to Jack Daniels. Not much action here at all.”

  “Not so, Max. Might not have a fast food restaurant, but it does have a bowling alley and a music store. So, if my strings pop, I won’t have to order them online and I can see if I can beat the 256 game I rolled last week in Chicago.”

  “Humph.” Max re-checked the clipboard and drummed his fingers. Slow-downs were hard on a Type-A personality.

  “Since I only have the one gig, why don’t you take the day off? Go snow shoeing at the Sports Club down the road. I hear Taberg Tower has a good tubing slope.”

  Max roared with laughter. “Nature’s not my thing, Ethan. Although, a day off or two would be nice. Where’s the nearest civilization?”

  “You could charter a plane to Montreal. It’s about 250 miles north or you could go to Albany … only 90 miles south. Take tomorrow off, too, if you’d like. Leave the clipboard here. If something pops up, I’ll write it down for you. I do know how to take care of myself.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yep. Plenty of frozen dinners in the fridge and there’s always Mickey’s Diner if I get tired of packaged food. Security team is in place. I’ll be fine here alone. What could go wrong?”

  Chapter Three

  Sucking in her stomach, Alexis straightened her black slacks and checked the mirror one last time. If she gained any more weight she’d need a new wardrobe. Too much fried chicken and pizza—Gib’s favorites among the few foods he’d eat. Who had time to cook one meal, let alone two? His attention-deficit meds affected his appetite. Most nights, he picked at his plate like a fussy bird. Gib needed the calories; she didn’t. He also needed the meds. Without them, he literally climbed the walls, pretending to be Spiderman. Seemed like in every arena where Gib won, she lost.

  She never had to worry about weight before. When she complained to the counselor, she criticized Alexis’s organizational skills. “Can’t you take off the breading and put the chicken on a salad, or maybe replace one slice of pizza with a fruit bowl?”

  Yeah. She could.

  Gib’s issues drained her creative problem solving. It took less energy to blame him than to look for solutions. True, those extra little steps might make life more tolerable. But who could remember them when living in crisis mode twenty-four hours a day?

  It was so hard to know what she should make an issue and what to slough off to his peculiarities, or what she could attribute to normal growing pains as opposed to issues related to his disability. If only he came with a computer chip, some way of knowing which was which. He liked to mimic. Maybe instead of caving to his whims, if she ate more nutritiously in front of him, he might try better foods. Perhaps the counselor was right. “Gib knows how to play you to get his own way. Disabled children are often masters at manipulation. Love doesn’t conquer all where these kids are concerned.”

  If her love wasn’t strong enough to keep Gib out of trouble, then God’s love had to be. She sang the first line of Ethan Jacobs’s A Christmas Prayer, “God of all majesty, Giver of life. Smile down on this wounded soul today.”

  She waltzed into the kitchen, twirling for Jasmine’s benefit, trusting her friend to render a true assessment of her appearance. Jasmine put down the magazine she’d been reading and gave Alexis a thumbs up. “Girl, you are one fine-looking woman.” Not a day went by without Alexis giving thanks for her friendship with Jasmine. She raised her right brow and closed her left eye, scrutinizing Alexis’s ensemble as carefully as a jeweler examines a gem. Alexis readied herself for the accusation sure to follow. “I’ve never seen you primp this much for an interview. Don’t tell me you have a crush on the guy.”

  “Only silly girls swoon over celebrities.” Yes, she had dressed to impress the man. But not for romantic reasons. She had a favor to ask, and if looking good did the trick, why not put on a little lipstick and mascara?

  Alexis conjured an image of what Ethan Jacobs might look like sans the cowboy hat. While preparing for her article series, she had studied his CD cover much longer than curiosity dictated. His eyes haunted her: splintered beams shone through broken prisms, deep and furrowed, chocolate ovals laced with a hint of pain. Dark curly hair peeked beneath his velvety brown Stetson. He leaned on one elbow while glancing downward, a slight five o’clock shadow adding to his mystique.

  Jasmine pointed to the cupboard to the right of the sink. “Still hiding the Oreos in the top back?”

  Alexis nodded and threw Jasmine the key. “Gib steals anything and everything. No rhyme or reason. Last week I left the Tabasco sauce on the table and caught him mixing it in his cereal.”

  Jasmine hauled out the Oreos, unlocked the refrigerator, poured herself a glass of milk, then sat at the small kitchen table. “I’m so jealous of you, getting an interview with Ethan Jacobs. As great an opportunity as a one-on-one with Prince Harry in my book.”

  “Ethan Jacobs is hardly a prince. Rumor has it he’s the illegitimate son of a tribal chief and a white
woman.”

  “He’s the best looking man on the planet if you ask me.”

  “How do you know? You’ve never met him. Anyone can look good on a CD cover.” Wouldn’t it be funny if she’d passed Ethan Jacobs on the street not even knowing she’d snubbed a famous person? “BTW … thanks for staying with Gib.”

  “Does he know who you’re interviewing tonight?”

  “Are you serious? He’d drive me crazy if he knew. I did tell him I’d get him a backstage pass for after the concert if he managed to stay out of trouble for a few days.”

  “You never know with kids like Gib. He might surprise you.”

  It was true. Gib never ceased to surprise her, but usually with outrageous behavior beyond the invention of the most creative minds. “I don’t have very many rules and he still doesn’t remember any of them, or so he says. I have them taped up on his bedroom wall like the counselor suggested. He gets a gold star for every rule he keeps. If he manages to get five stars, he gets a special reward. Hasn’t worked. Consequences are far from his mind at all times and he steals what he wants if I don’t give it to him. I wish I could relate to Gib as easily as you and Kyle do. It’s hard to be a friend when you have to be a constant enforcer. No wonder Gib hates me.”

  “He doesn’t hate you. I like Gib and he knows it. Why we get along so well.”

  Alexis choked back her tears. She couldn’t cry now and smudge her mascara. “I do love him. The counselor doesn’t believe me. She says I resent Gib because my parents adopted him while I was in college. I don’t resent him. I do wish he’d show a little affection once in a while. He does for other people. Why won’t he smile for me like he does for you and Kyle?”

  “Gib loves you, too. He just doesn’t know how to show it. Besides, you said it. He only smiles for a select few. I’ve seen him around others. He’s as detached as an unmoored rowboat. Anger is the way he chooses to relate to you. At least he relates. Better than being ignored.”

 

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