Minnesota Mystique 352c7

Minnesota Mystique

Sandra Lee Brand

AuthorHouse™ 1663 Liberty Drive Bloomington, IN 47403 www.authorhouse.com Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640

© 2020 Sandra Lee Brand. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/23/2020

ISBN: 978-1-7283-3955-9 (sc) ISBN: 978-1-7283-3954-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019921186

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do

not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Epilogue

About The Author

Preface

I lost my Husband in October of 2015 and thought I would never recover from that tremendous loss. I am often not sure that I have even made inroads in the grief that overwhelms. I believe that the greater the love, the greater the grief. Wayne L. Brand was a man who liked to follow our dreams and I decided that I would end my career in education in May of 2018 and follow one of mine. As soon as I came to that conclusion, I started this book. Minnesota Mystique is for him, the man I loved more than life, itself. He believed in me more than I ever could. I have been a storyteller from the time I was a small child. With my knowledge of the two cats I possess, a rare and amazing breed (Russian Siberians) and exposure to Communication Disorders, Real Estate and the Foster program, I decided to begin this book immediately. The book was my therapy as I was in control of everyone and everything in this existence. The book is about the trials of a young family in a quest to foster and adopt a traumatized three-year-old boy. A mystery cat appears and makes their life enhanced as only an animal with special powers can do. It is the first book I have ever written. I sincerely hope you adopt my near to life characters and enjoy this book. It is titled Minnesota Mystique. Although it is fiction, it is based on my life experiences. I have readers and they tell me it made them laugh, chuckle and cry. I want to thank all my friends and family who encouraged me in this quest. My friends were crucial when I decided to publish. Bonnie Preble read, edited and added to the story when I used language that was not reader friendly. Gretchen Boehme edited for me and found errors as small as a missing period or comma. My book became homework for Maureen Smith Anderson. She went line for line. Maureen was with me Christmas day when the publisher gave birth to this book. The from other friends encouraged me to give wings to MM and even start to plan another. It sat on my computer for a year before I gave it a chance. Now Minnesota Mystique is giving back to me.

My friends were encouraging as only those who really know me can be. It has both religious and mystical qualities based on the reader’s take on life. I hope you like it. It was written for all of you who love children and animals. I am hoping to write more for you for your and my enjoyment.

Chapter 1

I drove with grim determination! The snowflakes were coming down gently and soundlessly, but I knew that could change abruptly. I needed to stay alert and anticipate signals from my environment that would dictate my driving style. I had grown up in Minnesota and understood our quirky weather changes with or without meteorologists’ warnings. This gave me a false sense of confidence and a dangerous disregard of climate change. I had seen unpredictable results during my life in this northern state. Focus was a critical component. Focus was a problem for me today. Growing up had been a challenge with an alcoholic father and a mother determined to bring her five children to maturity with responsible foresight and visions that included successes founded on love and dedication. Her devotion and determination had made up for the loss of a positive paternal influence. My father could have been the poster boy for bad parenting. My mother had made a difference with her drive and foresight. We had been raised by a single mother who had been unable to realize her own talents and gifts, in her need to allow her children to achieve the best of their abilities. We had been her full-time job in combination to a multitude of other jobs she managed to procure to keep the family safe and fed. My brothers and I were all strong and highly motivated. There had been no other choice for us. Now, we were all away from home, busily becoming the people she wanted us to be. She could now concentrate on the task of putting money aside for her retirement. She needed to have her own dreams fulfilled. I have to it that I was not exactly sure what they were. Does this make me a bad daughter? I did know what she expected of us. We were supposed to put ourselves through college and go on to achieve great feats which involved developing our gifts to help others. Being the oldest and only girl had refined my natural mothering tendencies. I had followed my need to help children into a career as a speech and language

pathologist. Mom was pleased. My brothers were on their way to careers acceptable to our mother. We had no drug lords in the lot of us! Her expectations for us were being realized. Mom had also taught us to be aware of our environment and the dangers around us. We lived in a state given to horrendous weather changes with the most danger involving snow and ice. I knew better than to let my wandering thoughts take me away from the very important job of late fall and winter driving. However, that is exactly what I had allowed. Thoughts of the past occupied my mind and blocked the concern I should have had for the forecast of storm conditions coming to fruition. Minnesota natives knew the care they had to take, but, my normal “devil may care” attitude and tendencies to think five things at once created a problem, even for this true Minnesota native. I needed to turn these pleasant thoughts into thoughts of present dangers. The flurries were intensifying. Three more blocks and I would see my ivory bungalow with its green trim and two car garage. I started to hum the song I was hearing on the radio. “Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high….” It gave me a calmer outlook. This was a time for attentive behavior not relaxed acceptance of my environment. I really knew better than to continue with the calm happy attitude being close to home amplified. The inevitable was about to happen. I was a Minnesotan, I could still see the road, so, snow was not foremost on my mind. The snowflakes continued their gentle dance on their way to meet the ground. It was becoming a winter wonderland. There is an eerie silence in this kind of weather. It was so very calming, almost hypnotizing. I didn’t notice the icy edges these snowflakes had added to their form. Yes, in Minnesota, snow plotted and planned. Winter was such a long season that our precipitation had time for diabolical deliberations. This, ultimately, created a problem for me and one small creature about to enter my fiefdom.

Chapter 2

The familiar uplift I always felt at the sight of my home was short lived. I first sensed danger and then saw a furtive movement. What was that? It was small, dark and very fast. Two rounded eyes reflected my headlights. I turned the steering wheel in a panicked reaction. I also hit the brakes!! I knew instinctively not to do either of those maneuvers. However, it was exactly what I did. Some faulty instinct kicked in! Enough icy snow had fallen to cause an instantaneous problem for my car and for me. I slid to within inches of my garage door while holding firmly to the steering wheel like that was going to help me! Mercifully, the car had stopped, and I was ok. I sat very still as if still waiting for the crash I seemed to have avoided. It took a bit to realize I had stopped. Breathe, I ordered myself! My heart beat so hard and fast I was afraid to move. I am not sure how long I sat in that frozen position. Then, I started to cry and shake, so much for calm Minnesotan acceptance. The distress was partially due to the near miss of my garage, but, more to sudden and intense fear that I may have hit something that was or had been very much alive! I knew I had to make a move. I had to check and remediate whatever harm I had done. I took a deep calming breath. I was as ready to beard the lion as I could be under the circumstances. Breathing seemed to be my primary task as I changed the pattern from short gasps to a big inhale. I needed the increased oxygen that would bring to me. I would need to counteract the icy gale which could, very likely, take my breath away. My winter skills and knowledge were finally helping me. I opened the door and felt painful arctic needles from the wind and icy sleet try to push me back into the car. This icy acupuncture continued with its agenda. I pushed back hard and landed on the driveway with little grace but, upright and ready for action. My sturdy black snow boots gripped the driveway surface. I checked balance and then bent to my task. In this weather you could bend to lessen your body as a target. I moved ahead as a frost-bitten taco. I had to find out if I had injured something or, horror, worse. I moved cautiously forward. I

continuously scanned the tundra as I advanced. Slipping and sliding on the icy surface, I made it to the street and looked for a small form. Had it been a small dog? Maybe it was a cat? I saw a lump being quickly covered with ice and snow. I forced myself to approach. I gently and fearfully pushed the shape with the toe of my boot to find it was only a freezing lump of icy snow packed tightly together. It had no life and never had. It had probably been loosened from the rear s on my small SUV due to the jarring turn. I couldn’t do anything to help that lump. Now what? I staggered to the curb and wept for what might have been. That did not help my situation. Instead, it offered more external hydration as I felt my eyelashes begin to freeze and stick together. You Minnesotans out there know how that can happen. It was still possible that I had wounded something and it had dragged itself out of my path or been tossed from the spinning tires. I surveyed the immediate area and looked for little tracks, heck, any tracks, and found nothing. I slowly turned and surveyed all I could see. Everything looked smooth and very white. I looked back at the snow lump. It was still a snow lump. The shaking that followed could have been from the cold or from the trauma I felt. I was an animal lover and what I may have done was devastating to my psyche. I could not have forgiven myself. I should have been more careful. I refused to give up. I should have brought the blanket from the back seat to wrap the victim in. I was insulated with enough bulk to protect me from bites from an animal in pain, but I needed the blanket to give it warmth. I felt the cold penetrating my defenses. Snowstorms can creep beneath any garment invented by man. It did its best, or, in my case, its worst. I shook from cold and shock. The attempt to find my possible victim had been fruitless and it was time to rethink my plight and strategy…from a position of warmth. I struggled to get to and into my red SUV with its lights ablaze. I imagined how its red bulk must have appeared as it bore down on a tiny life. The struggle to open the car door was even greater than the first time. Now I was moving against the wind which was pushing me and the effort was taking place on icy ground. Once in my car, I pushed the garage door button and the garage door eased up. I saw the cavern of safety, my garage. Lights burst forth from my sanctuary. The entire garage was illuminated by the

garage door opener. I spun to watch for another intrusion from the winter world. Snow blew in. Nothing moved in a linear manner although the snow was beginning to do so. Then, the garage overhead light was turned on as well. I looked around in case some small creature would race ahead of me into the garage and its relative warmth and safety. Still, no life form moved. I started to ease forward. I slowly inched my vehicle next to Les’s black sedan. His bigger and more impressive car was perfect for his job as a real estate broker, but, now my frozen fingers made it a formidable obstacle. I carefully made my frozen fingers perform the miracle called parking.

Chapter 3

The door from the house to the garage opened, suddenly, and Les stepped out with his arms wrapped around his tall frame for protection from the invasive frigid temperature. I opened the car door and pretty much tumbled out. One look at my face brought apprehension to his. “Lee!” His face showed alarm and deep concern. “What is going on? Why were you outside so long? I heard you drive in and then nothing until the garage door opened. What is wrong?! What happened? Are you hurt?” “Please,” I muttered, “I saw an animal in front of me. I hit the brakes and slid into the driveway. I didn’t hit the garage, but I stopped before I drove in to look for the animal. Please go look outside. I might have hit a small animal. I looked, but just can’t push myself to keep looking anymore. I saw it! I saw something…” Taking my arm, Les gently and quickly directed me and my stumbling feet in the direction of the house. We managed to get in although entering through the door opening, connected as we were, was a challenge. Both of us wanted in and he didn’t want to release me until I was safely inside. It would have been a funny sight to someone not familiar with the circumstances. It had to appear to be something like an “I Love Lucy” segment. Somehow, we made it in. I collapsed on the mudroom bench. It was a convenient work of art. It held seasonal hats, caps, and coats or sweaters on hooks on the high back. We shoved rain boots, garden shoes and other seasonal footwear under the seat in the spring, summer and part of fall. Everything was packed in the closet between seasons. It was in winter mode now, so it held the appropriate caps, hats, scarves and coats on the bench’s back. Snow boots were positioned under the seat part. It was the perfect piece of furniture for the mudroom. My task, now, was to remove my outer gear and place them in their appropriate spots. That was not to be. The task was just too formidable. I had never felt so helpless. I don’t think I had ever sat on the bench before. Now it was essential as my

wobbly legs would go no farther. I landed on it with the little dignity I had managed to retain. I had never hurt any life form (with the exception of the goldfish I had taken for a walk when I was three) before and the realization that I may have done so now was devastating. Ahhh, poor Goldsteen. I had only been three and I thought his view of the world must bore him. I was older and wiser now. I should have been more careful, more aware. Les gazed at me with concern. What he saw in my panicked face caused him to grab his boots and jacket followed by cap, scarf and mittens. He performed a rapid transition to a bundled being and was out the door. I managed to kick off my boots and left my coat, scarf and fur lined gloves in a tumble of cloth on the bench. “New use”, I noted before I stood to try out my legs and then headed to the kitchen. The bench now held a multitude of outdoor wear in a wild jumble. Some repair of body and mind was dearly needed. Tidiness could be performed later. There was a time to be responsible and a time for recovery. It was recovery time now. The winter gear would patiently wait until I could get to it. I immediately let go of those thoughts and leaned into the new task. Sustenance!

Chapter 4

My Keurig beckoned and I traded out parts to make it accept the carafe sized pod. One cup would never do. It was time for a caffeine and sugar partnership. I filled the water tank and it requested the cocoa or coffee pod. I located the carafe sized hot chocolate pod and inserted it. Mission accomplished and the chugging that ensued was a familiar comforting melody. I put my elbows on the counter and watched as it gave up the chocolatey prize. It took forever before it yielded the mega sized hot chocolate with the reward of a second cup just waiting for Les when he came in. That was the plan, anyway. I sank onto a kitchen chair and turned to the digital clock. Part of my present problem was revealed by the clock. I had dallied too long at school. The time it took for a snow dismissal meant that I stayed later to get my paperwork caught up. It was 6:00 p.m. The weight of this realization made me drop my head. I was exhausted. Work at school coupled with the struggle I had with our weather teamed up to wear me down. Why did my mind go to workload at time like this? I think it was my way of dealing with present reality. I would prevent present worry by substituting past worry. I would go back to the potential winter tragedy when I could no longer force consciousness to stay on my workload. I presently had two worries to clog my rapidly revolving mind. I was a logical person when I was allowed to be. Now, I was back on the winter tragedy I may have caused. That didn’t take long. It was so devastating to me that I got up and paced around the kitchen with cocoa in hand while in my stockinged feet. The distress was overwhelming while I waited for Les to come in. However, a glance down brought a tiny smirk. Had any one at school noticed that my socks didn’t match? They were not even in the same color family. Please Les, save me!!! OK. Back to school worries or, maybe life concerns. It had been a whirl wind week with doctor appointments from last week and resultant notifications this week. Medical appointments meant medical results. We had gone through a series of tests to see if there was a reason we had not

conceived a child. We were now waiting for these results. These thoughts caused another channel for my crazed mind. We were ready to be parents both emotionally and financially. Back my mind flew to work: IEP (Individual Education Plan) meetings and progress reports were paper hurdles. Tonight was to have been late with completion of the meetings already planned. These meetings had been planned for right after the school children were dismissed. Completion of these paper/parent tasks with some of the afterschool activities were now going to be rescheduled with a time allowance we didn’t have. The carrot reward for completing the work week had been an evening of pizza and beer. We considered those comfort foods to be the staples of our lives as busy working people. They definitely were our Friday go to food! We tried to block all concerns on Friday nights to just enjoy each other in a stress-free environment. Now, it was back to the present. I went to look out the window. Where was Les? Had he found something and now had to deal with it? I knew he would do that before he came in. I found myself in full worry mode and went from window to window carrying the rapidly diminishing cocoa. My mind was spinning. Tomorrow, would be the big discussion. We had planned an uninterrupted day to talk about our future. We had future plans to consider, medical results to discuss and additional news I was about to tell him. What was the plan now? We had big plans for us ahead. We were still on for our personal discussion in depth. Our plans would be realized tonight and tomorrow if he had not been forced to reschedule business meetings not held today for tomorrow. His clients probably cancelled any interactions not imperative. Tomorrow those cancelled meetings were to be held. I was glad that may have allowed him to get home early and rest before dealing with his crazed spouse. Next week would have to be rescheduled. The new schedules and events would all require additional time. I was already tired and stressed from a busy and crazy week.

Chapter 5

Twenty minutes ed and I had finished mine and then half of Les’s cocoa before I heard the garage door close and the entry door open. Finally, a reddened Les appeared shaking and rubbing his hands to return circulation. Frost ringed his eyes, caught on eyebrows and eye lashes. Light snow still clung to his hair not covered by his stocking cap. He reminded me of the abominable snowman with a hangover. He had kicked off his boots and outerwear too quickly. I knew that his mess had ed my mess. Today, I did not care at all. Tomorrow, oh well… I stared at him. “Well, I exclaimed, did you find it? Is it….?” “Well”, he echoed, “because you would accept nothing less, I walked one block on both sides each way.” “And?” I pleaded with only minor hysteria. “Other than a suspicious icy snow lump with your boot prints all around it, I found nothing.” I challenged, “Is that good?” “Very.” he conjectured hopefully. He wanted me to believe that if you couldn’t find it, it hadn’t happened. I was an easy convert to this belief as I really needed this to be the case. I also knew he would take the task to heart and not just for me but also for the wounded one out there. I raised one eyebrow. Both of his went up. I scrunched up one side of my mouth. One of his eyebrows went down. We were certainly communicating nonverbally but to no avail. I sighed. What if it was hurt? “Ok”, I mumbled and handed him the remaining half cup and turned to make more. Even turned away from him, I could sense his relief. I was acting sane. I had every reason to be in deep distress, but I had calmed myself. The little being must have escaped. “This is the first week of October, sooooo this should melt. Don’t worry. We won’t find anything then either. Right now, the layer of snow is only an inch or so deep. I would have seen it.” Les offered. We looked at each other and made a silent promise to attempt to turn tonight back into a normal beginning to our weekend. Time would only tell how much

success we were to find in this attempt. We needed relaxation and a return to the norm after a wild week. We just needed to kick back. We needed each other. But I couldn’t let go as I was so worried; I may have done something some harm. I opened my mouth to speak and the concern that I felt must have easily revealed itself as he quickly anticipated my words and added, “I checked all the bushes for an animal or evidence of one for four houses around us. I found nothing. I only hope the police don’t show up with charges of a peeping Tom. The neighbors might not so understanding.” He looked directly at me as he changed the subject, “I have been waiting to tell you something nose to nose…I got my doctor’s report back today while you were at school. Doc had yours, too. Since I am allowed to know your records, we talked, and you and I are supposed to make an appointment to see him. I didn’t make one yet as I wanted to have this chat and decide together.” Silence filled the room as he gazed at me waiting for my reaction. I sat back on my chair to give him all my attention and because I really needed to do just that. What a day and what a night! He didn’t know how I would handle the news and didn’t know what to expect from me next. We were having a mute standoff. I was organizing my thoughts for a reply. He was anxiously waiting to determine my acceptance of the news and the resultant response I would give to him: my patient man. The Keurig hissed and growled. I obeyed its command and poured another cup of hot chocolate for him and one more for me. I pumped an unmeasured amount of crème de menthe into each. I turned with both cups and shared one. This was needed medication and one sure fire way to prepare for the subject. “Now?” I queried. “Do we need the appointment, or did he give you an answer?” He responded, “Enough. He told me enough to have our answer without the meeting.” He waited with those raised eyebrows again. I was about to find out the results and decide if there were additional questions for our medical advisors. Would there be more medical interventions needed and how much and what would they be? I studied him to give me some idea of what was to come. This man should never play poker. I could read him like a book. He revealed the next hand with a slight curve upwards of the corners of his lips. “He said there was nothing he could do for us. All tests showed we were fully operational! He

suggested a vacation and relaxation. Babies should not be a problem” We could have laughed or cried. With sleet hitting the windows with escalated force, we chose tremulous smiles and relieved sighs. That was the best we could accomplish at this time. The question floating in my mind was, “If so, why not?” I wasn’t even sure what it meant, so I kept silent.

Chapter 6

To “stack” the deck in favor of parenthood, we had decided that we would adopt. We had gotten married when I was 25 and Les was 30. Now, I was thirty and …. nothing….! We had not conceived and decided to seek an answer and do what we must to reach parenthood status. We had more than one plan. We were prepared to raise a little family however we could. We both found adoption a natural and perfect way to begin our family. I work with handicapped children on my caseload. Some of my children were in special needs classrooms. I had fallen in love with them and thought that maybe the reason we weren’t having our own was that we were supposed to adopt a special needs child. I had worked with these children and Les had heard all about them from me. Many of the children on my caseload were visual learners and only needed some auditory instruction and correction to take on the world with their inherent joy and energy. These children were loving and creative. The growth seen with these little ones was encouraging and exciting. Gifted children could easily be found in their ranks. It was all about learning and how they learned. I am an advocate of brain-based learning. If we could have our own, too, our family would simply grow as much as we felt we could handle. Our home was ready. Genetics didn’t have to be a factor. We were financially set. We were ready. Bring on the kids!

Chapter 7

After much investigation, we decided that being foster parents first would be our path. We would not wait to conceive a biological daughter or son. We were ready to be parents now. We had just completed all classes and steps to gain specialized therapeutic foster parent status. We stated our willingness to take the first special needs child as emergency foster parents with longer term possibility. Now, we were waiting for a notice of availability…or so Les thought. I should have said, “so I thought Les thought!!” How about two thoughts in one sentence from a Speech and Language Pathologist? He knew more than I had anticipated. This man was an ever changing mystery lately. I smiled at Les. I had my own good news to share. “I got a call today. There is a little boy who needs us now. He is three years old and is ready to be placed in a foster home. Let me tell you about him. We have an appointment for a week from today if I don’t call and cancel. I want to do this, but it is a decision we both must make. I can tell you more about him.” I hesitated to regain breath and make sure he was listening to the whole story without need for clarification so far. I was fully prepared to go on with my dissertation. “I feel so drawn to him and his story. His name is Oliver.” I continued. I took another deep cleansing breath and finally waited for his response. I felt like jumping up and down but maintained my dignity and felt the need for his buying in! This was a two person responsibility, in the least! Eyebrows shot up and they weren’t mine. A mouth dropped open. His tongue rose to upper lip. Lips pressed tightly together and made a thin white line. Head tilted and reddish-brown curls fell to the side. Then he smiled and nodded with preconceived knowledge quite evident. Wait! I had the book on this man. In fact, I wrote the book on this man. This was not in it. Could the frozen tundra he had just come from caused this abnormality? Is this a frozen Botox-like reaction? Had I overstated my case? Had I done it too quickly, like a babbling brook? Had he understood me? Was

this yes or no… or what? Maybe if I just waited patiently…OK, that was not a skill of mine but… Suddenly, he leapt up and pointed his finger at me. Now my mouth dropped open. He roared in laughter. “Now, you, who thinks she knows me so well that she knows what I am thinking.” I continued to stare at him. What had happened to this predictable calm man? Was I slow on the uptake due to the entire traumatic experience we had just barely survived? “Welllll,” he offered, “I also got that call and have his history.” Ah ha! Now I understood. I had not experienced brain freeze. “Here is my plan. We have the weekend to get his room ready. I am thinking blue and yellow. My mom has a crib she saved, but he really needs a little youth bed. I think it converts to one. Oliver! What a perfect name! What more do you know? What do you know? Speak!” crowed my excited husband. This looked like a long night. OK. I loved this man more than can be expressed and I consider myself quite a wordsmith. I couldn’t think of a thing to say. He stood there plopping marshmallows into his cup to microwave for his special version of hot chocolate. He felt a celebration required a handful of this confection. He felt cocoa was the special occasion that required marshmallows. His eyes rolled up in that special right brained thought position I was so familiar with in my dealings with those right brained children and my right brained husband. He hadn’t even noticed that I wasn’t talking. He was planning. I was beginning to read his signs again. He was deep in thought. I waited for him to re me but then realized I couldn’t wait anymore. I opened my mouth and tried to push words out. Nothing! Instead I produced a steady stream of tears, sobs and gasps. Good grief! At this rate I was going to be dehydrated. He didn’t seem to notice because he was moving ahead on his own. He knew me well enough to know he could move on. I could see him calling his mom. The game was on! Les and I stayed up all night on Friday discussing how we could help Oliver. No one knew how long he would require a temporary home. He was exhibiting possible selective mutism and more. A full-blown investigation looking for his parents and his family was in the process. Until something culminated in that area, he could be with us in a healthy loving environment. That was our plan.

We had thought we had prepared ourselves for this potential happening. We would be happy for him with any outcome. Many times, education of the parents made a reunion possible for these children and their parents. We would be pleased to have that happen for Oliver with us providing a safe and healing haven for this child in the meantime. We wanted to help him be safe as his parents learned how to care for him and were given another chance with their little one. We had convinced ourselves of this. We were ready…soooooo ready! The other outcome might be the long process of adoption of the child for us. We were sure that the first child would not be the culmination of our dream. He may be returned to his parents. We were prepared for that. We would hold strong to this conclusion. Adoption seemed an unlikely outcome, so we would stay focused on the main objective: a better life for this little boy. Bring it on! Saturday morning and a snow removal to free our vehicle, found us shopping. We agreed on the paint colors fairly quickly. Les’s mother, Louise, was coming over with brushes and all the other items needed to transform the cozy room into a temporary home for Oliver and other children to follow him. We could easily change the color to pink if future residents required it. Maybe even purple!!

Chapter 8

After a wild flurry of activity over the weekend, I went back to school on Monday. I was sitting in the teachers’ lounge trying to center my thoughts and noticing that blue paint had worked its way under my fingernails when my best friend popped in. She was my high energy pal who served our school as the Varying Exceptionalities Instructor aka Crystal. She knew everything about my life except the most important happening in our lives right now. I inhaled in preparation for the story. I was wondering how she would take it. She loved all children, so I was excited about the possibility of sharing our news. She could be a big help to Les and me. I had even planned the scenario in my head. This was not to be. She was too excited to let me begin. That was not uncommon for her. She had something to tell me and I could tell there was no stopping this fireball of a friend. Her story had to be told and right now! I prepared myself to wait to tell my news and to listen to her. There would be no other outcome. This I knew. “Next weekend is a special, ‘Adopt a cat’ event at the animal shelter. I want to go and get Jamie a pet. A cat would be so much easier than a dog with our snowy existence. Litter boxes and no outside winter turd hunts! Our neighbors have a dog and the upkeep in the winter is not a good thing to discuss so close to lunch.” She was pumped and couldn’t stop talking so I just listened. Actually, I had learned through experience that this was always the plan and a necessity for this friend and her verbal flurries. I would have my chance when she stopped to get my approval. She always expected my approval on her endeavors which often included my participation. It was a formality as no matter what my reaction was, it would be reworked to her satisfaction. “Howie has agreed, as next week is Jamie’s fourth birthday! Just think! My son will be four! Jamie gets a kitten for his birthday. Pllleeeeeaaase come with me. You should really think about it, too! We could pick litter mates and have play dates!!”

That declaration made me laugh. I had grown up with enough pets to know cats did not like play dates! The mental images of the hissing and growling to be witnessed by my naive friend highly amused me. She was headed to an eyeopening introduction to the feline world. Her parents had not allowed her to have pets as they had been in the service and frequent moves had not allowed for a furry friend for their daughter. She had always wanted a family and a pet. It was all coming together for her. It could not be fun for me. A cat in our lives wasn’t even a consideration. One dependent at a time was a better idea as we did not know what was ahead for us or what needs we must meet. Would there be behavioral issues? This was a distinct possibility. I was just going to push this to the back of my mind for now and maybe forever. I thought about the near accident. Someone had not been a responsible pet owner. Children placed in the foster program may have been handled with the same lack of responsibility. We would deal with one little being at a time. Pets were not in our plans. She stopped to take a breath and allow me to agree with her. “Umm Crystal, it looks like I will be having my hands full with a little one soon enough. I don’t want to add more to that scenario. Let me tell you all about it!” She gazed at me with obvious curiosity. Then the 30 seconds ed and, so typical of my friend, she interpreted my comment her way. She blurted, “Oh no. Not the hunting dog! I can’t believe Les talked you into that! Spring cleanup is so disgusting! With a kitten, we could trade off kitten sitting.” This provoked more smirking on my part. “Come with me! The Kitten Jamboree will be fun. These were late litters and there won’t be any more until next spring! These kittens are 12 weeks old, so moving fast. Les would agree on anything you really wanted! He is just that sweet a man.” When she took a breath, I jumped in. It might be my only chance for some time! I told her about Oliver and the possibility that he would be moving in with us for an undisclosed time. We had a meeting set up for next Friday. She gazed at me with her big brown eyes and I could only imagine what was whipping through that mind of hers. That thought usually scared me a bit but now it didn’t. I will analyze that later.

“Ok,” she finally began. “You will find out more on Friday and then we will know what kind of kitten would be best for Oliver. I need a rowdy little male for my busy boy. You may need a sweet shy kitten for yours or… We will be able to pick up both kittens on Saturday. This is so exciting. Our boys can play together. The kittens should be litter mates so they can play together, right? This is even better than I thought! Ok, I will pick you up Saturday morning. Bring Oliver! This is even more exciting news!” “OH! Look at the time. Mrs. Brown is expecting me to pick up her math needs group. The life of a Varying Exceptionality Teacher never slows! Lunch later?” I was only allowed an “Ummm!” before she flew off, full of energy and generating plans for her little group. Those lucky kids were about to experience high energy learning at its best. A play mate for Oliver! There would be get togethers with the little men! I was getting into the program! This was like a dream come true. I should not plan too far ahead. Social Services had told us that they always try to reunite the children with their parents or other family . For now, he would be with us. It had to be enough. It was enough. I hadn’t taken all those child development and psychology classes for nothing. This parenting thing would be a breeze. My biggest problem now was to detour my friend. There would be an addition to our household. There would be only one addition. There definitely would be no animal added!

Chapter 9

I needed to run to the PreK program and make plans for him to be there until I could pick him up at the end of my school day. Wow! A child had just left the program when his parents decided to move to Florida! A position in PreK had opened thanks to our early snowfall and the temptation of the sunshine state’s warmth and beaches. These parents had taken off to Paradise and left an open spot for Oliver. If I moved fast, that opening could be ours and I really needed that to happen. Things were, indeed, moving along so fast. I knew very little about this guy and what he was capable of doing or being. It was Monday. Life would change on Friday. We were ready. We were prepared! I started to make my world-famous lists. I didn’t know whether to be scared or excited, so I chose both! The lists were slapped up on the refrigerator (mental note: get more magnets) for hubby’s perusal. He was used to this routine and almost always looked at the refrigerator when he came home. First on my agenda list was to tell Crys that we were not getting any pet at all! Ok, maybe a goldfish but that would be a really big concession. He would be at the age I was when my well-meaning kindness caused the demise of the family goldfish, sooooo; I decided to text this message of pet refusal to Crys because she never lets me finish without trying for her way. There was no time for that. We were definitely NOT getting a kitten. I would do the text later…much later. It would give her less time to come up with arguments. There would be no cats!! We had completed all the training necessary to pick up this little boy. We knew he came with a bucket load of challenges. He had been dropped off at a fire station. He was the result of the Safe Haven program. My concerns for him kept growing. We had little information on this traumatized child. Someone had pinned a note on him noting his age and name. Oliver had just turned three years of age. No one would be back for him any time soon if at all, according to the note and the authorities handling his case. The authorities were familiar with this kind of forfeiture. The note was the kind you may attach to the box you put a puppy in before dropping him at a shelter.

He had been tested and examined and reexamined. His hearing was normal, but he did not react to sounds or words around him in a normal way. He had probable diagnoses of Anxiety, Autism Spectrum Disorder and Selective Mutism. Social Services were interested in placing him with us due to my profession. We were best suited to deal with his unique combination of needs. We were also ready to do our best to meet his unique needs. He was ready to be placed in a temporary emergency home until determinations for him could be made. We qualified for that in addition to longer term possibility. We also qualified for potential adoption. We did not see this happening our first time out but needed to look at all possibilities! When the parents did not relinquish rights but could not be reached it complicated placements of these little lost souls. ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) was a label assigned until they could get a better exam result for him. It was an immediate medical assumption based on behaviors at this time. He displayed symptomatic behaviors now. It would help to place him in a program. It was too early in the testing game for a clear diagnosis, but they had to move fast and with well-placed logic. He needed a change in his environment and the only alternative to us was a group home with older children. Should there even be a consideration of anxiety? Of course! How could he not have that? He was old enough to know what had happened to him and develop fears. He was old enough to know what was happening but too young to really understand it to any degree. I was anxious just imagining it and I was ten times his age. A barely three-year-old child had just been dropped off with no possessions of any sort. Did that mean the parents planned to recover him and kept his things or were there no possessions? Was this a decision to be changed as soon as the immediate crisis had been remedied? Did they want him back as soon as some unknown problem was resolved or were they just discarding a responsibility that was growing? What kind of parent would do that? What else had been done to him? How would we know what he knew and what we had to remediate if he wouldn’t talk? The road ahead was long and full of detours. I felt the pain empathy can bring.

Selective Mutism was something I had worked with a few times with amazing results. One of the prime beliefs is that anxiety caused the victims to fear speaking anywhere except where they felt safe. Where did he feel safe? Did he feel safe anywhere? We hoped to offer safety and a loving, accepting home to him. Once in a program, following the diagnoses, he could begin treatment and his reaction to the treatment would help the specialists decide if the diagnoses were correct or had to be adjusted. Sometimes the diagnosis was right on and the therapy would help the child and those around him to cope with his disability. Other times, only time and acceptance would reveal how best to help him develop to his best potential. He was owed this. Occasionally, the diagnosis was not correct but disguised in the conditions enveloping the child. Time and therapy was essential and the IEP (Individual Education Plan) was an instrument that would change to meet his needs as they were exposed and/or changed. I added more to my list. I would pull out information about these disorders and review. I was on my way to hunt down our school psychologist. He would be helpful in the review and I had the testing results to give to him. I wanted him to be aware of any circumstance that could arise in the school setting. Following that I would seek the school counselor. I had signed releases for these resources. I was so ready.

Chapter 10

I would tell Crystal that we planned on keeping Oliver’s environment as stress free as possible. We did not know how he would interact with any kind of animal. He may have had frightening interactions in his first three years of life. Many things, including pets, may be added as time went by and we felt he was ready. Even then, we would expose him, but not in his home environment. I practiced these points of view so that when she called to protest the no kitten rule. I would be ready to explain and enforce this firm denial of pets. I will have a week free of work to see if we could break into his world. I wanted this time to see what I needed to reveal to get her assistance and the assistance of all who would touch this child professionally and/or personally. I didn’t need another life to care for, so, absolutely NO pet. When I thought of a kitten and my friend Crys I realized that there was only one letter different between pet and pest as well as fiend and friend. Crys had to be handled carefully because she was so very worth the time. NO! No kitten for us! This was feline refusal at its best! I was going to be loving but firm…very firm! NO CAT! I had been given a week off from school to get Oliver settled into his new home. Friday, we would pick him up and the dedicated “at home week” would begin. I took a deep breath. I had visions of a sweet little boy who would open up once he felt safe. We would spend the week getting to know each other, playing and shopping. My fantasy world was being wildly created. Reality was going to hit soon! I said a little prayer to have the necessary patience and skill to help him. Les would be magical as children and animals were all attracted to him. He had this aura about him. Social services were hoping that I would make a difference, but my bet was on Les. No one could resist him. I was a prime example of that! After my home life with my father, I wanted no man in my life. Les was and is so very special.

I couldn’t wait to see Oliver and Les interact. I wondered what Oliver’s exposure to men had been. A woman had dropped him off. Was his experience only with his mother? I would make a list of questions like this one to ask Roger. As Oliver’s social worker, he should be a great help. I would add this list to my list of lists.

Chapter 11

It was dark when I approached home. I had made lesson plans for my replacement starting next Monday, one week from today. All materials were lined up. My student files were made readily available to the sub. I knew all was ready for the best experience possible for sub and students. That had been a big concern. These were also my children. I would check on them throughout the week. There was always the possibility that the school would also be unable to find a sub and that they may decide that one week was not enough time to replace me and my services. I may be expected to catch them up when I returned. That was worst case scenario, so I had sent work home with each child to keep them abreast of their development so far. Les was bringing home dinner-his surprise. I chuckled as I realized it was his turn to cook. This counted, he insisted. I would relax by the fireplace until he arrived. Food delivered was food delivered no matter where it was picked up, cooked or microwaved. This had been our adopted thought on nourishment when we had married. I saw no reason to change it just yet. We worked long and hard hours and were into enjoying the time we had together in our own way. Cooking together was the only time we had ever argued. We often ordered out or went out. We figured this was cheaper than marital counseling. This belief was enjoyed by the local restaurant owners who all knew us on a first name basis. Les was always a great tipper and that only enhanced our popularity. Take outs and eat outs were our life! Everything looked organized and ready for this next chapter in our lives. We felt prepared for this adventure but were a bit unsure as we had not met little Oliver yet. One of my chosen thoughts involved the process known as worry. When we worry, we miss moments of joy and positive experiences. If the worry does not evidence itself, we have wasted good times. If the worry does become a reality, start worrying then, if you must, but it is best to work on resolving it. Worry gets in the way. That is my credo; most of the time.

As I turned in my driveway, I saw a small dark shape flash by. Two rounded eyes reflected my car lights. It was a flash. This creature was so very fast! So, my mysterious critter was back and had survived my wild turn last Friday. I was surprised at how relieved I felt. A great weight, I didn’t know existed, was lifted. Things were looking up and this was a sign that I could relax a bit and anticipate happy times ahead! My mind turned completely to this little mound of fast-moving fur. I was going to help it! I was! It may have been caused by my near miss of her and my resultant guilt or my way of also appeasing my cat crazed friend. My next impulse was anger toward someone for leaving their precious furry family member out in inclement weather. Was this a repeated act of negligence or had they never recovered their pet once it got away? Neither situation said much for them. None of the possibilities left them guilt free. They did not deserve this creature. Then, I thought the shape might have indicated raccoon, but the swift rapid and fluid movement said no. Raccoons sort of shuffle, I reasoned. Also, we had become careless in caring for our garbage container. Raccoons were not tidy and made their presence evident by their messy exploration and dining habits, all made possible due to our neglect of garbage duty! None of this was evidenced around our neighborhood. Some one’s small dog or cat was more of a probability. The smooth stealthy action indicated cat. Was it feral or neglected and frightened? What could I do about it? I needed to know that it wasn’t a careless escape of some beloved pet. This looked like the need for another problem-solving list. I put my car in the garage and left the door open as I called to the, almost assuredly now, cat. Do cats really come to “kitty”? Nonetheless, I tried and tried. I looked for tracks to show me direction as the lawn still maintained a light frosting of snow. No tracks!?! Did this beast float above the ground? “Kitty, kitty, oh sweet kitty” I crooned. I scanned as far as I could see and then lowered myself to the ground to peer under the bushes. Les pulled in and I rose to standing and turned to talk to him. He popped out of his car now parked in the garage. “Wow. Waiting for me with the garage door open! How sweet. I am so impressed but the on your knees greeting isn’t

necessary, impressive, but unnecessary.” He was in a jovial mood. I was determined to him in that mood as soon as possible. I had to laugh. He stood there grinning. He was so funny and endearing most of the time. I grinned back but then presented a more serious side as I blurted “I saw her/him just now, the ‘here kitty kitty’ creature. I called her and tried to find a path, tracks to search for her. Nothing! I found nothing! Don’t look at me like that. I know I am the only one to have seen her and there is no evidence. I couldn’t be more confident now that I have laid eyes on her again. She exists! Don’t ask for a description as she is too darned fast”. “Did you note any wings? Perhaps she has the ability to hover. Did you look up? Perhaps we will see a report on TV about an unidentified flying object. Yes, I think hover is the answer.” After this declaration he started to slowly circle and look skyward. My amusement was rapidly changing to annoyance. He was too into his message to notice. The verbal entertainment continued. I will add that the entertainment was strictly for his own enjoyment. His smile morphed into a smirk as he added. “Yeah, well. First of all, how do you know that this spirit animal, this mystical creature, is a girl? I am trying to buy into this but all I have gotten so far is frost bite. Maybe we should call this mysterious kitty creature Frosty!” He made this declaration with arms lifted skyward to address the kitty kitty. Just then his head jerked to the right of my frozen ear. His upper teeth seized his lower lip. He had seen something and that was for certain! I took the cue for my next action. Would I be vindicated by another appearance of the furry one? I was pretty sure I had scored when I whipped around. As I turned, I saw movement by the front bushes. Then there was a blur of movement and again eyes were reflected as the swiftly moving mass/creature ran past our security light which snapped on in response to the movement. She seemed to be crossing back and forth in front of our house. What plan did she have? “Oooooo. You saw her. You did” I whispered. What the heck! Why did I whisper? Did I think I would scare the swift little vision away? It was already gone. She was already gone. We had ourselves a little mystery. She had run back

and forth a couple times and then vanished. If she would just let us, we could help her. How could I tell her that? If we caught her, how could she tell us her needs? How could we find her home, her origination spot? This made me think of Oliver. I could have just described him. For now, we would go into the house and I would start new lists.

Chapter 12

I decided to start calling her Mystique. Perhaps, Oliver and I would walk around to the neighbors asking them if they knew about a lost cat, one of the walk and talks I used with my speech kiddoes. We looked for colors. We looked for shapes. We looked for movement and change. We discussed and named all of it. Some first words were spoken by my little charges during these magical times as we strolled hand in hand in the halls on the school campus. Maybe this would work for Oliver too. I considered these walks as my magical intervention. Sometimes we sang as auditory memory and vocabulary blossomed with songs. Right brained children love musical movements. I played to their strengths and the rewards were legendary. Did I say I love my job? I do love my job! I was very positive and unbelievably relieved. I had not hurt another life form. She was safe and possibly coming to us as evidence. Perhaps she chose us for another visitation because she knew this, on some animal level, some super sensory level. Did she also know this continued to worry me and she had come back to show me that she was ok? Was she some kind of spiritual message which left no physical evidence of her visits? This had to be a good sign. I would call animal control and ask for their help. I had heard that they had cages to catch loose animals. I had to watch it closely so she would not be stuck in it for very long. It was winter and she needed movement to help her stay warm and be able to enter the protected environment that she must have found. I wanted to catch her and return her to her rightful owners right after I lectured them on their responsibilities for this little life. I would take the cage in at night so she wouldn’t get caught overnight. She must go somewhere warm at night and required this freedom for safety. Perhaps I should check for these warm sites anywhere near us as she seemed to have a set location. I should be able to see pounded down snow to signify her safe zone. How was she getting food? The temperature might restrict this search for her with Oliver so we must rely on other resources. If the weather was bad, I would not take this little boy outside. I would search before he came. Animal control

might be the answer. They could give me an idea of local habitat. Meanwhile she seemed to be taking care of herself quite well. Could I put out food for her? That would only be if the trap didn’t catch her, of course. Would the neighbors hate me if it attracted raccoons or other critters? I had to make a list of all the things she may need. If we caught her, maybe Crys would take her as a friend for her new kitten. I smelled Chinese food and quickly moved to enter the garage, close the door and shed outer winter gear. This would be one of our last nights together for just the two of us. Soon we would be three. I felt a thrill course through my being. I looked at Les and saw the excitement reflected. We were ready! We were oh so ready! Yes, indeed, or so we thought. We were in control, or so we thought. The naivety we shared was laughable as I look back. Life had so much to teach us and we were willing learners just not aware of how much we needed to learn. I called Animal Control in the morning and they brought over a trap. We set it up with a can of tuna I brought from our pantry. We supplied only the best albacore for our little distraction. This proved to be a royal waste of time. The food was consumed. The cage was sprung but empty. The cage was stored until a time when we could return it to animal control. The fail proof device failed! We had a smart fur ball on our hands. I started leaving out food for her. I quit when I saw big paw prints. The neighbors’ lab was enjoying the treat! He was also leaving us torpedo sized thank yous. I must talk to that neighbor.

Chapter 13

The week seemed to drag by. I was super busy at school and with friends as the news got out. They all wanted to help. I was offered all kinds of clothes and toys. I thanked them, but said we were pretty set up for now and would rely on their help when we realized more of his needs. I really appreciated the offers of play dates but…I was just too new at this to know what to do next. I needed more time. I certainly needed some experience. Experience was on its way! It was finally Friday morning and our appointment to meet the little boy named Oliver was right after school. I was ready in every way possible, so why were there butterflies in my stomach? These butterflies were not flying in formation but were flying blindly and crazily within their cage. These were more like mammoth moths. I had not felt this much excitement since our wedding and getting my first job! I could tell by looking at Les that he was right there with me in the excitement department. We deliberated over what to bring with us. A large fuzzy teddy bear was essential. That would be a welcoming sight for Oliver. He would have a fun friend. It was as close to a pet as I was willing to get. This did not require any care other than an occasional trip to the washer. We decided to name the bear Winston. That might make him more like a pet for Oliver. We left for work and the day dragged. My groups were all running smoothly and I laughed at the interchange they offered. My little group of ASD kiddos were asking questions and questing for information. I couldn’t have been happier with them. Was this a sign? We spent the last few minutes reviewing their grade level vocabulary. I was crushing child communication. I was so very ready for Oliver. This had to be a good sign! Have I said I was ready!?! We went home early and vacuumed the car. What if he had allergies? I may use that as an excuse for a pet free environment if Crys came back at me to consider a cat. Les insisted on buckling in the bear for his safety and as a good example for Oliver. We went back inside to have one last cup of coffee and go over a couple of my lists. Les said he counted 14 lists, but one was simply a list of the lists. That one shouldn’t count.

Then we got the call. Oliver had an episode when he had been told someone was coming for him. He saw them pack the few things they had bought for his personal use and needs. The fear had been paralyzing. They had trouble calming him and he needed one more night of being alone in the hospital before we picked him up and then we had to wait to see if he would go with us. We were scheduled again for tomorrow morning. It was a big comedown for us. It also started us thinking about all the fears we had to work through with little Oliver. We realized we had a huge challenge ahead of us. Just getting him to our house seemed a mammoth task. We arose early. Breakfast was impressive. We had both prepared to feed ourselves to survive any challenge. We needed sustenance and energy. We barely touched that food. I watched the food grow cold and poured more coffee and then…more coffee. I looked at Les and recited. “We met with psychologists, social workers, law enforcement and learned R.” We thought we knew what we were doing but reality hit us…and hard. I suddenly felt insufficient. I should have done more research, read more material to us, located more experts and so very much more. Then, there were always more lists. I needed more lists. “We’ve got this!” Les suddenly crowed! He even picked up a slice of the cold toast and bravely gulped it down. I think my lips were trembling when I smiled. He was our hero today. He would show this confidence today and I only hoped I would catch it from him. I called and reminded Crystal that we would not go to look at kittens. She gave it one last courageous try. I assured her that no furry creature that required feeding and clean up was on our anytime soon list. She seemed amazed by my resistance. She definitely wasn’t used to it. It even surprised me! It certainly impressed Les. I told her to have fun. They were out shopping for kitten items. That was just like my friend. She had no idea if there would be a kitten for them, but they were going to be prepared. So far, they had ten pounds of litter, three litter pans: one for each floor and were deliberating about a diet. I added some items to her list to get her thinking about that rather than my refusal to her in kitten ownership. I hoped her confidence would invade my being. Would there be a

kitten waiting for them? Would there be a little boy waiting for us? Today we would all find out!

Chapter 14

We walked around the house for yet another final inspection. In his room, the youth bed sported new linens and a solar system bedspread. Above his bed, a solar system hung from the ceiling. The ceiling also had glow in the dark stars. His little blue and yellow room boasted toy boxes filled and shelves packed with books. I was amazed at what we had accomplished over that crazy weekend. Louise had wanted to give us the world but had settled on the display in his room. Les’ mother was a blessing as was my own. Clothes in size three hung in the closet with little boots below. A shoe pouch on the back of the door held little shoes. We would get more once we knew his favorites and exact sizes. For now, he was Little Boy Blue. I felt a shiver run up my spine. I had meant the word blue to represent a color choice we made for him, but realized depression was also tied to the word, blue. Prophetic? I hoped not, but the realization that it could be true shook my world. Then, to make me laugh, I hope, Les asked me if he should buy two seasonal tickets for the Vikings or if I would also like to accompany the boys. It was effective. He was my positive thinker and mender of all problems. I SO LOVE THAT MAN! I laughed. I firmly stated, “Three!” We were ready. We looked at the time. We could wait no longer. We were afraid that if we didn’t get there early, they would call again and cancel. We looked at each other and knew the unspoken. If they couldn’t reach us at home and if we turned off our cell phones, they couldn’t cancel. He grabbed his coat and threw mine to me. Then he grabbed the little blue blanket he had wanted to include. We were off! I do mean this in the good way. We were not off our rockers-ok, maybe just a bit. We arrived early and were left in a room for the big “meet.” A social worker walked in tugging a small child behind her. He was beautiful and looked like a little angel, at least what we thought a child angel should look like. He glanced up. Crystal blue eyes flashed at us and away. They returned for a second look at Les. Les was leaning forward with his hands on his knees. Oliver’s little hand was dropped by his social worker and I put out my arms to

him. I crooned his name and lowered myself to one knee as an invitation for him to come to me. He didn’t move and then looked up at the lady who had led him in. He determined he was untethered. He glanced at us and looked quickly at his companion again, saw he was free and acted. He turned and dashed to the farthest corner in the room. Thank goodness the door had been closed. This was obviously not my plan. He was supposed to run into our welcoming arms. There, in his safety corner, he brought his knees up to his chest and tucked his little head into his arms which were ed by those skinny knees. Blonde hair flipped forward to hide his face. He was so thin and so small. Introduction made. After half an hour of waiting and coaxing failed to sway him, the counselor suggested we try to take him with us. She stated that his time at the hospital had to end and he would either go to us or they would ask a local group home to make temporary space for him where we could visit until he was ready. This was a call to action for us. I looked at Les and saw he was looking at Oliver with a face softened by his overpowering gentle but firm countenance. He was obviously touched by this little refugee. I sensed he was about to take action. This was the big face off. Could we win this one? We had to win! Les walked over, reached down and took his tiny hand. A gentle tug on the hand was a call for action. He stood with his head down and obediently followed us to the car where we gently put him in the car seat and belted him in. Then we stood back and looked at each other. Les jumped in the front after closing the side door. He immediately locked the door to prevent an escape. The problem was that he also locked me out. We were off to a fantastic start. Les noticed and leaned over to let me in. OK. This was going better now. They were going to let me go along. Oliver paid no attention to the teddy named Winston buckled in next to him. Les leaned over the seat and tucked the blue blanket around him and spoke softly, “Ok Oliver, we are taking you home. We will take care of you and love you. Please, be ok with that, alright?” There was no refusal or agreement in this little one. I think my heart broke. I know that Les’s did.

Chapter 15

When we got him home, Les freed him from the blanket and his car seat. He took the tiny hand and helped him alight for the next phase in his young life. We didn’t want to frighten him more by picking him up as we took both hands and led him to and through the door. Close was not a comfort zone for him. I wondered if he would ever crave closeness. Diagnoses of anxiety, attachment disorder and autism spectrum disorder all were indicative of the lack of a need for physical or emotional closeness. The same procedure continued for eating and bedtime. He was ive and remote. He refused to eat and went limp when we changed him into his pajamas. He allowed us to put him in his bed. He was a breathing doll. He curled into a ball. My heart ached for this little being. Was it fear or lack of need that kept him distant? Time and care would help us to determine this. He turned his body to the wall as I read “Good Night Moon” to him. I fought the feelings that rushed at me. What had happened to this tiny child? Would we, could we reach him? From his position with his back to me, I tried another approach. I gently rubbed his back. He stiffened. I stood and quietly left his room. I left the door open to let him feel his freedom and gain his trust. Les and I stayed up and found solace in each other. It was early in our coexistence with Oliver. That is how I knew I had to think of it. Oliver showed no signs of accepting us or his new environment. Was that what it was for him… just another environment? Evidently so, as what else could he think? We didn’t know anything about his past except the most recent. Someone had placed him alone in the cold and he had stayed as he must have been told. Had that behavior been trust or resignation? I suspected the latter. He did what was demanded of him. Before we went to bed, we agreed to not overwhelm him. Tomorrow would be spent at home with us. I couldn’t call it his home as he had not accepted it as such…yet. I must have checked on him every hour all night. I ran into Les on several of those excursions to Oliver land. We would make eye ; raise our heads in firm conviction to our quest and to encourage each other. It was only

the beginning. Were we ready? Sometimes we stopped for a hug of encouragement from each other. I noticed that his bedside table held a small glass of milk and a peanut butter sandwich, just in case. Les must have brought it to him. The next morning it was still there. It was untouched by him as was everything in his room and maybe in his life.

Chapter 16

Sunday brought more snow. I moved our little guy to the table and his booster seat by taking his hand. Les had a scrambled egg, bacon and toast with juice ready for him. We decided to eat at the table using this as a model. We ate. He sat. He hung his head and only occasionally looked through his long blond hair to examine us. His face gave us no clue as to his thoughts. His face was blank and asked or demanded nothing from us. I opened the door to pick up the Sunday paper. Something whipped by me at mind boggling speed. I felt the soft damp touch on my leg. I must have jumped a foot. Turning around I watched as the cat spun around the corner and into the kitchen. It was the shape of the furry kitty kitty creature! I was both excited and alarmed. I raced behind; paper forgotten. I got there to view a fluffy ball leap onto Les’s lap. Mystique rose to Les’s face with her paws on his chest. She stared into his shocked eyes with a mission. He didn’t move to protect himself or encourage the investigation of this creature. Whatever she saw there seemed to appease her as she butted her head against his chin in acceptance and maybe even affection. She marked him as her own as she continued to rub against his chin. Then she sat down on Les’s lap and turned her attention to Oliver and me. Les was still immobile. Was he in some kind of shock or afraid to scare this miraculous fur being? I looked across to see Oliver’s large round eyes fixed on this furry mystery. She turned her head to look at him. He pulled back but I saw a tiny flash of baby teeth. Was that a smile? Yes, I was pretty sure that it had been a fleeting but for real smile. How could I get that smile to reappear? I felt a tiny sense of hope and encouragement. Mystique jumped to the floor. She shied away from my hands reaching to pet her. She looked back at Oliver. He locked eyes with her. Mystique slowly opened and closed her eyes. Oliver did the same. Oliver’s little shoulders sank, and I realized that he had them up near his ears in reaction to stress. He was a tiny

tense being, for sure. Her sense of acceptance seemed to have moved to him, at least, where this ball of fur was concerned. I don’t think he had ever seen a cat before, but he seemed quite interested. This creature was closer to his size and was a stranger in the house, as well. She was a big sturdy girl! At least, I thought she was a girl. She had offered some form of peace and understanding to Oliver. He had just accepted this from her. He had not accepted us, but she had found us suitable. Maybe he would follow her example. She was relaxed. Maybe we needed to follow her example and hope that Oliver would also accept us and relax. She seemed to be our best hope to crack this standoff we had with our little guest. We, apparently, had two guests now. I looked at Les. He had seen Oliver’s interest and acceptance of the newbie, too. He chortled and muttered, “Looks like we have a pet. I had kind of hoped for a lab to play fetch with as a pal for Oliver and …me. But, this not so little kitty… belongs here. She picked us.” His smile started small and then seemed to envelope his face. “How do you know it is a girl?” I returned his much earlier question. We both laughed and two sets of little rounded eyes, one set crystal blue and the other gooseberry green, moved to look at us in astonishment. Laughter seemed an unknown to both of our little guests…or maybe just our laughter. Our new, not so small, cat winked at us. Was that a sign? I was pretty sure it was. The initial tension had been broken. We had a pet, or she had us…perhaps… probably. Mystique moved toward the refrigerator. She was moving to the next step on her agenda and in our unspoken agreement or contract. I caught the not so subtle hint. I opened the refrigerator door and reached for the milk. She seemed to know the function for this big humming white chest. Would she accept some milk? The way to find out was to offer it to her. I lifted the milk from the shelf with that thought foremost in my mind. I wasn’t prepared for her next move. Fleet feet left the floor and landed on the second shelf where she bit into a piece of wrapped cheese and pulled it out of the refrigerator with her next leap to the floor. She ran to the corner with her prize and slid her green eyes over me with a dare to retrieve it. I wondered why she didn’t challenge Les. He might be the one to

grab it from her. No, I had to be the villain. Did I smell like one? Did she sense that? Was it just because I was standing and surprised and he was sitting and chuckling? I smiled and assured her, “Yeah he is the soft touch. You are one smart kitty kitty.” Instead of taking her ill-gotten prize away from her, I took some braunsweiger from a shelf in that cheese giving box and cut it into small cubes. She kept watching as I took another slice of cheese and diced it. Both items were placed into a saucer and pushed toward her. She stood and abandoned the cheese she had been unable to release from the wrap. I added a saucer with water and one with milk to her buffet. She slid over to the meal and purred. The room was filled with the sound of her pleasure. Now there was no doubt. Yes, we had a pet. Let me rephrase that. She had us. I looked at Les, “Food in…. Food out” he stated as he grabbed his coat and left to pick up supplies for our newest family member. He moved as fast as the cat. Les was definitely more! I wondered when I had signaled acceptance of this little beast to him. She had moved in but without supplies. Les seemed to know just what to do about that! He was on a mission to meet her needs. She seemed to be here to stay-for now.

Chapter 17

No one had posted about a possible lost cat long before she chose to move in. I had been looking, Yes, I had! So, I figured that she was ours and we were hers if that was the decision made. Who was I kidding? That decision had been made by the vote of three. If they had asked me to vote I am pretty sure I would have voted yes. They just never asked. What did it matter? I would have been outvoted. I looked at Oliver. His eyes were locked on the cat. Were those blue eyes expressing hope, desire or fear? We would find out. The purring went on. I am pretty sure it was the cat! The three of us, Mystique, Oliver and I sat and exchanged looks. I spoke to them both. “You are both new here and both very welcome.” Mystique purred back but Oliver said nothing. He definitely did not purr in any way. She blinked slowly to show her pleasure and he did not. OK! Halfway there! Oliver looked back at me and then locked eyes with our (maybe) new pet with a wistful and yet apprehensive expression. I would have loved to know what they were communicating. I had the cat’s number there. She seemed to be moving in for the time being. Suddenly, I started to laugh. I had to tell my friend, Crystal that I had gotten a cat after all (probably). Two sets of eyes widened and looked at me in apparent surprise. I chuckled softly and the cat looked back at Oliver with that slow wink/blink of hers. Oliver seemed mesmerized by her. He visibly relaxed. I did, as well. This cat might very well be a very special gift. I always loved a great gift. Would great fit her?

Chapter 18

Oliver hadn’t eaten anything. They had told us that might happen. He was small and underweight. They had given us advice on how to handle this problem. They could not tell us what he liked to eat. He had eaten for them after a day when they put various choices out and left the room. He ate very little and actually shoved some of the food into his pockets. We all knew what that meant. He was saving for an emergency of his making. As he sat fascinated with Mystique, she returned to the mutilated slice of cheese, lifted it gently and carried it to Oliver’s chair where she dropped it. She looked up at him and then down to the cheese. Did she want him to open it for her or throw it away? He slid out of his chair and grabbed the slice. He was fast. Before I realized what he was going to do, he had freed the slice and shoved it into his mouth. I am pretty sure dairy was on the recommended list for his diet. First meal accomplished. Mystique was a better mother than me. Well, we would see about that. Now I knew we had a pet. This was not just any pet. She may just be our nanny. Oh! Wait! Feeding wasn’t complete. She jumped to the table next to his plate and watched him. I wondered if she was going to eat his food. Could she still be hungry? It was hard to tell how much was fur and how much was fat as she was one fur ball! Instead, she removed a piece of bacon from his plate and dropped it near him, also on the floor. He picked up the bacon and ate it. I watched in wonderment as the eating action was repeated and repeated. I didn’t intercede. I watched and learned. Nanny indeed! We had ourselves a fun furry feline of a nanny. I didn’t make a move. I was prepared for any consequence to me if she showed any aggression at all. So far, she had been exceedingly gentle. She moved to the plate again and watched him and then looked at his plate. He climbed up onto the chair and scooped eggs from the plate into his mouth. Oh! I couldn’t let her be on the table. I couldn’t let him eat with his hands. Well, maybe just this once.

After all, it was the first solid meal for either of them, at least for him. Feeding completed and plate empty brought the next task to mind. I sidled closer with a warm washcloth for his hands and face. Fear radiated from his little face. The cat jumped on the chair next to him. An idea struck. I moved the cloth over the cat and she seemed to like it. Then I rinsed it out and moved to him. He watched. He allowed me to do the same for him. That cat couldn’t be allowed to leave this house. I wondered how she was for baths and bedtime. As if in answer, she sidled over to Oliver and removed a tiny bit of egg I had missed on his sweet face. Her little pink tongue flicked out and completed the task. Her future duties would definitely include baths! How could I have ever thought a goldfish would be a suitable, if necessary, pet? In one of my psychology classes, I had read that the children of parents with lower incomes were healthier. They were allowed pets and played on the floor. There were even reports of them tasting dirt and ignoring the five second rule. The five second rule was known by all who worked with children. If something dropped to the floor and was picked up within five seconds it could go into the mouth. There it would be washed by saliva and ingested. Children with animal and dirt experience had better immune systems. We were following some form of health rules to the extreme here. Children of higher economic status parents or squeamish mothers were more subject to tougher health challenges for their children. It was thought that the immune systems of children exposed to more environmental “dirt” developed better immune reactions. I was ready to accept that vague recollection right now. Sustenance was in Oliver. Feeding accomplished. What was next? Should I consult my lists?

Chapter 19

The door banged open. Our first full day with Oliver was going to be full of surprises. Les stumbled in and I burst into laughter. His coat and boots covered most of his pajamas but the sight, humorous as it was, let me know that he was nervous, too. “Don’t laugh.” he mumbled. At least, I think that was what he said. His mouth held a bag as his hands were full. He had come home loaded with pet supplies. He dropped the bags and added, “I think my appearance got a discount at Walmart. They liked the pajamas and a grandma hugged me. I sort of forgot that the pet stores wouldn’t be open so I went where I could get emergency supplies. I didn’t know what color Frosty Mystique would like so guessed neutral for now.” Hmm. It seemed we would not fight over the name for our fur guest. We would use both of our choices. It was too long for Oliver to eventually learn so it required more thought but… He unloaded litter, litter pan, cat food, bowls, toys, food and a beige and brown fur lined bed. He pointed to the bed. “I hope she can tell that this is fake fur. I was not sure what she would think but it looked warm. Just in case, I found this green baby blanket to put inside it. The grandma helped me. She really knew her way around! She claimed she knew cats too, as she had three of her own. Please tell me one is enough. You don’t think FM would require a fur pal, do you?” Yes! FM was the perfect adaptation! We had a pet, we had a name, we had supplies. We were ready, yet again. I murmured, “Quite an investment. I hope no one comes to claim our furry friend. We would just have to bill them!” He gasped, “We would certainly not kill them, but we would battle them in court. Oh, wait, did you say bill or kill?” He continued, “Oh no! They left her outside. FM deserves better than that. She is home now. Oh great! Oliver ate! How did you get him to do that?” I responded, “Pure feline magic. Please don’t ask more.” He looked carefully at

me, shrugged and didn’t. Smart boy! An impossible feat had been accomplished. This was something to brag to the social worker about as long as he didn’t ask any “how” questions. Quickly changing the subject, I replied, in a contemplative manner “I think this day will be a pj day. We will stay comfy and safe in our nest today. There will be no more excursions into the tundra. Agreed? I am not sure what we will do but we will definitely do it here!” He looked down at his muddied and wet pj hems and said, “Agreed, after a quick transition for me. These aren’t my favs anyway! I may have an answer to your question about activities. I had been thinking while driving and then the grandma was an unbelievable fund of information. When I got to the store and she helped me, she suggested a cozy day of treats and movies.” I responded, “Hey, I got those pjs for you! You have had them the longest. They were one of my first gifts to you.” He countered, “Yes, and I do just love them, but you got all of my night gear for me so one of your choices will show up on me in five!” He raced off. Had he gotten some sugar into him? Maybe from that grandma? Boy, was I ever going to learn more about the power of grandmas. I looked over at the other two new family . FM was quietly grooming her paws and ignoring me. At that moment she looked up and our gazes met. There was that slow blink again. I must learn more about cat communication! She was telling me something that Oliver seemed to understand. Therefore, so would I! I had books and I had google while Oliver had instinct. He was faster in his acceptance and understanding of our new roommate. Oliver switched between watching me and watching FM. He seemed confused but sat on the kitchen chair with little feet on the chair cushion and chin resting on his knees. He seemed a bit more animated. He wasn’t rolled into a ball. That had to be a good sign. Now what? I wanted Les to hurry back. We seemed to have a truce and I was afraid to move or speak to threaten that situation. I knew Les would know what to do as he had instincts to match those of FM’s and Oliver’s! Where was he? Hurry! A figure leapt into the room. Was this a hint of things to come? Les was wearing his superman pajamas. I had bought those for him as a joke when we had first

gotten married. I vaguely ed seeing them in the bottom of his drawer. I took in this character and quickly looked at the other two. FM had her back arched but remained unmoving. Oliver had a faint smile on his face. Both Les and I had seen that little concession. Oliver quickly looked at me and quit smiling. What had my face told him? Had my lack of assurance and confidence and perhaps fear revealed something to him in my pose or face? I had to start practicing in front of a mirror. FM lowered her arched back and sat with her gorgeous eyes fixed on our man creature sporting new fur. He seemed harmless enough, seemed to be her opinion. Oliver quit watching her and turned his face to Les with newfound confidence. Just let someone try to take our feline nanny away! Oh wait, I couldn’t show violence in front of the kiddo. I would have to check out some local attorneys. Possession is nine points of the law; I had been told. THE CAT WAS OURS TO KEEP!

Chapter 20

Les rushed over and proclaimed it time for a Halloween movie. I protested because scary was not on the agenda. He replied, “Oh ye of little faith, I picked this up at Walmart, too!” and produced one last small bag he had kept hidden in his jacket pocket but had now retrieved. It was a Peanuts Halloween CD. With that proclamation he swept Oliver up in his arms. The little boy stiffened, and eyes widened. He didn’t struggle and the move to the family room commenced. Schedule accomplished! This was even not on my list of potential activities. It looked like we had a new activities director and nanny. This job may get easier, yeah! Sure! We moved into the family room where Les plopped the little lad into a beanbag chair. He remained stiff with eyes on Les. My so appreciated husband set up the CD and started it. He then crossed to the fireplace and started it, as well. My slow moving, curious mind became aware that he was doing this as much for me as little man. Les took my hands and led me to the sofa and then vanished… again. Oliver watched his exit with renewed interest. He didn’t take his eyes off that door except to peer at FM who seemed to know what was going on. I smelled it before I heard him returning. He carried three small empty bowls and a huge bowl of popcorn. As he set it on the coffee table, he switched directions like a whirlwind and dashed off to return with three cups of cocoa prepared Les style. I sipped and realized the cocoa was warm, not hot, for Oliver’s sake. Les ed me on the sofa and matinee Sunday began. Oliver accepted the cocoa and popcorn. This time he consumed his treats with us in the same room. He kept his back to us. I witnessed another move ahead. Bless Les and FM! I must not brag so no one tries to hire them away! Wait, maybe he could write a book about his and FM’s strategies and we could get it published and…. We took a break at noon. Pizza and cola were on the menu and on the table. This little guy’s diet was due for a makeover, but not just yet. Again, he did not eat.

FM was too repulsed by the spicy smell to help us. Oliver didn’t eat. Les motioned me out of the room. He put his fingers to his lips and we stood in the hall for an undisclosed time. When we heard the clink of his glass a few times we stepped back in. The plate and glass were empty. FM was chasing a piece of pepperoni across the floor with grim determination to kill it. I said, “The cat ate it.” Les added, “Then wiped her paws on his face? We have a smart and tidy cat.” Two meals down and I was exhausted. Did we really have to have three meals a day and snacks? Now, we had the cleanup to be accomplished. FM was not about to do her tongue cleanup as she found pizza disgusting except to chase small bits and kill them. That only added to the mess. No, wait! Oliver retrieved FM’s now killed pepperoni as she dropped this fresh kill on his foot. He popped it in his mouth for disposal. I looked quickly at Les to find him deliberately ignoring this new clean up technique. We trekked back to the family room after boy and room clean up. Oliver followed and returned to his beanbag. I chalked up a mental note to get him a smaller chair that would fit him better. The bean bag seemed to swallow him up but met with his requirement for hiding in plain sight. It seemed to offer him some anonymity that gave him comfort. We would dig him out of it at bedtime. We hadn’t allowed time for a nap and I saw him trying to stay awake by rubbing those beautiful eyes of his. Oh no! Strike…. who knows. This parenting thing was a constant challenge. He fell asleep with FM tucked into his side in the gigantic beanbag chair. He had to be relaxed to drift off like that…right? FM purred him a lullaby. I noticed that Les may have modeled that nap behavior for him. I decided to them as last night had not been restful. We awoke in time for us to watch a few more movies. Our first optional family task was successful! We had familial napping permanently ensconced in our data bank as an acceptable and soon to be traditional family event.

Chapter 21

Dinner was macaroni and cheese with hot dogs. This is kid friendly cuisine. Oliver laid his head on the table and fell asleep again. He had two rough days that we could for, so far. His life had been drastically altered. He was used to change but didn’t seem to like or trust it. Carbs and stress took their toll. Les gently picked him up and took him to his room to cocoon him in safety, at least our version of it. Did he even have a version of his own? Where did he feel was his safe place? We would do whatever it took to give him one. The question was whether he would be able to keep it for him. We spent the rest of the evening talking and planning. We adjusted our plans for him. We were not taking him out into the world we knew. He was too bruised by life to get out into it just yet. Fun and frolic would have to wait. For now, we had navigated Sunday. More movie time seemed to keep him relaxed. We had successfully put Oliver to bed in his room and he was, hopefully, set for the night. Now it would be our turn. We were exhausted. We sat on our bed for a brief respite before the energy required to begin preparation for our night could be found. Mystique came in to us. We both leapt up. We had neglected our newest family member. She padded in and then reversed directions. We followed her to the outside of Oliver’s room. She wanted us to let her in. That wasn’t going to happen. We had yet to trust her completely. What if Oliver was allergic, although, he had shown no signs? What if he rolled or stepped on her? Would she retaliate? Les spoke first. “Let us set her up in the laundry room until we learn more about her. I read that was best for the first week or so. Animals like the security and safety of a lair.” We hastily emptied the litter into the litter box and positioned it in the corner. Next, came positioning her bed with the little blanket tucked into it. Food was placed in another corner. Since she was staying, I started a list of other things she would need. She needed a cat tree, scratching posts and many more things that the pet store would

convince us were required. Can I get vitamins for her? Of course, silly me! This was her way of collecting her pay, I rationalized. She hadn’t left Oliver’s door and chirped at us when we went to get her. Les looked at me with wonderment, “Shouldn’t she meow?” She pushed her body against the door and walked its length only to reverse and repeat. Back and forth, she walked while looking first up to the doorknob and then to us. I am pretty sure she thought we were communication challenged. We were pretty sure she was hungry again. Maybe we could tempt her into her new room. Finally, Les swooped her up by arranging her paws over his shoulder. This seemed to be her preferred way of being carried. We took her to sniff her food. As she was checking it out, we rapidly exited and shut the door. We may be taking tentative steps into the world of parenthood for little boys, but we thought we rocked parenthood for kitty cats. We heard faint chirping sounds from the room but decided she was just singing herself to sleep. Two dependents put to bed! Task completed. We rocked…sort of. For sure, Les and FM did! I was learning and I was pretty sure my learning curve was pretty impressive. I wasn’t about to bring it to anyone’s attention, just yet. When we went to bed, I felt great sorrow overcome me. What had this dear little boy been exposed to in his short life that made him so fearful? Would we be able to handle his fears and replace them with love? My thoughts tumbled in a neverending tornado of doubt. Was he capable of receiving and giving love? Sleep finally came. I woke up and froze. I thought I had heard quiet, gentle heart-breaking sobs. I wanted to go to him but realized that I probably frightened him as much or more than whatever he was ing now. Had Oliver awakened and been afraid or was he dreaming? I listened carefully. There was no doubt that he was sobbing. The sounds were so quiet that it took a bit to be sure. Now, I was sure. I heard the click of a doorknob but no other sounds. I did not hear the soft rustle of movement. We had hard wood floors so there should not be the silencing found with carpet. Was that another door click? The sobs had stopped. Had someone entered his room? Why had he stopped crying? Was he terrified? Had his parents come for him? I sat still and listened. Could I hear above the loud

beating of my heart? My mind and my heart raced. I heard nothing. The absolute silence was more terrifying than the sounds had been. Had someone broken into my home and was he or she now with Oliver? I had to do something. Were there two and were they waiting and listening for our reaction to the invasion? As soon as I got up, they would hear me. This indecision was taking time. I had to act and right now! I woke Les with a finger to his lips. He looked at me with wonderment. I pressed my finger to my lips. I pantomimed stealth with my fingers. He continued to stare at me. Then I pointed to the door. Finally, “Someone is in here.” I whispered. Les reached our open door in seconds. He sped down the hall and vanished through the gaping portal that was Oliver’s doorway. I followed. I noted that the door to the laundry room stood open. Had they opened that on their way to find Oliver’s door? Les was moving swiftly but quietly. I marveled that this precious man thought first of checking on Oliver. I was on his heels, but my legs weren’t as long or toned as his and I had a late start. Something glowed gold green in the dark, catching the night light from the hall. Was it a gun or a knife or… Les switched on the light. He held a raised shoe in his hand. Was that some kind of weapon? Can you sole or toe someone into submission? Oliver opened those crystal blue eyes of his. Standing on the little bed in front of him with back arched and hissing, was Frosty Mystique. Vengeance shone from those crystal green eyes. I saw Les standing in the room in front of the intruder. Oliver reached for his protector and I gasped. Would the angry beast rake him with the claws we had not clipped? FM dropped into a crouched position and backed closer to the little boy. Two sets of eyes stared at us. I suddenly realized that we, Les and I, were the intruders. I slowly walked in and reached for the cat while talking softly to her. I saw Oliver’s little lip tremble. Les put a hand on my shoulder. He murmured, “Chamomile time. Work comes early and I need help sleeping after this. Just leave them. We will check when we go to bed. We should have left his door open. We will from now on. Hers should be left open, too as it is now her dining room and bathroom. Her bedroom is in here with her roommate.”

Reluctantly, I exited the little blue and yellow room. Over tea, we commiserated. I talked about feeling like a failure. Les talked about my gentle loving ways that would win over both of those hearts taking refuge in the blue and yellow room. He told me that he had the heart of steel before he met me. I knew better but loved him for it. Finally, we both crept down the hall. We peeked into the room. One set of glowing eyes met ours. She was pressed up against his side and he had one arm laid over her. He was breathing gently and evenly. She was gently purring to him. It was a Hallmark moment. We had a babysitter capable of chasing away demons. We would sleep now. The demons wouldn’t move into our room as we would leave it open as well as Oliver’s door so FM could guard us all.

Chapter 22

On Friday, I would take Oliver to the Pre-Kindergarten room that would be his home when we worked. I would sit with him for an hour or so and then take him home. It would be an introduction to his workday home. I only hoped it would go well, as there was no easy alternative. He would be just a short distance away from me and I could be summoned as I was leaving my cell phone on vibrate at all times. The next Monday, he would have to go there for the day. I had the week to prepare myself and him for that. Now, just how was I going to do that? Perhaps I should consult FM. I had to read those books I had found online on cat communication. Les and I had our breakfast and I saw Les out the door and on his way to work. I sank into the family room chair with a cup of coffee. I got up for a quick check on Oliver. FM was gone but I heard the crunching sounds which told me she was collecting her reward for a night well handled. Oliver slept on. FM and I were on duty. All was well. I went back to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. I pulled the laptop to me and googled cat with heavy fur who chirps. Google told me that the additional sound I was probably going to hear from a chirping cat was called trilling. It told me that certain cats make that sound. It is a positive welcoming sound. Mama cats often make it to their babies. When I thought about it, I was sure I had already heard it. I became mesmerized. I spent about an hour researching what breed our beauty might be. I settled on Russian Siberian. I read that they are strong and adventurous. They are supposed to have originated in the forests of Siberia in Russia. They are beautiful and resourceful. I shivered just thinking about it. I tried to imagine how this was even possible. These cats would have to be the cream of the crop to have survived that climate. They would have to be very healthy and very smart. Should I learn Russian to communicate with her? No, with the craftiness and intelligence needed to

survive they also would have to be multilingual. She understood me. That would have to be enough for now. Over and over, I read how intelligent they are and found myself hooked on this breed. If she was this type of cat, her amazing survival outside could be explained. I had already noted her hunting skills when she stalked and killed that piece of pepperoni for Oliver. The breed had not made it to the USA until 1990. They are stocky but agile which makes them incredible athletes. I had witnessed her smooth gait and jumping abilities. It sort of alarmed me at first as it was jungle cat movement. How could something with so much power, be gentle with a tiny boy? FM was showing me how! I needed to watch her and the amazing maternal skills she portrayed for her little human/kitten. They have larger rounder heads and paws than the similar breeds of Norwegian Forest cat and Maine Coons. Most notable are their tufted ears, expansive and luxurious neck ruffs and extravagantly bushy tails. Eyes are rounded and large. Those eyes are usually a gooseberry green gold color. Their coats have three layers with a soft as a bunny downy coat, a layer called awn and lastly, guard hair. I had yet to touch her but really wanted to do so. Les had. I would ask him about the fur. Maybe she would let me close enough to touch her soon. I think she read my mind as she jumped up to check out my coffee and I had my chance. She blinked slowly and meaningfully and then purred! Then, I found the information that lightened my load. Les’s sweet mother was deathly allergic to cats. The info stated that Russian Siberians were hypoallergenic. Could this really be true? As rare as this breed seemed to be, could we have found one? Actually, she found us! I knew we could not give up this cat but was pretty sure we could not give up Louise, either. Therefore, the hypoallergenic quality would be crucial. I looked up breeders and was dismayed at how few there were to be found. The information I had pulled up had warned me of this fact. I was afraid that her real owner would show up. I certainly would search high and low if she were mine, or, more aptly stated, if we belonged to her. She moved with such grace. She reminded me of a dancer.

They are very capable of problem solving and easily learn tricks. Hence, the doors that opened themselves. She never closed them! She seemed to think that life should be filled with open doors and opportunities. I would have to agree with her. We smiled at each other using cat language. I printed out pictures of this breed. I was hooked. I carefully laid the pictures out on the kitchen counter. I also put the information in a neat pile at the end of the row of pictures. I could easily review them and Les could get a bird’s eye view with little effort on his part.

Chapter 23

I heard a little chirp and looked up. Standing in the doorway was a boy and his cat. The vision was beyond adorable. I sucked in a quick breath and said, “Are you two hungry?” FM sashayed in and leapt onto the table. I opened my mouth to protest, but merely watched as Oliver followed his friend to the table and climbed into his chair with the booster seat all by himself. I put cereal that had been recommended by Crystal, in a bowl, poured in some milk and set it in front of Oliver. I vainly offered a spoon. They both just stared at me. FM licked her chops and innocently denied that she had already eaten. I had heard the crunching but not seen the actual eating, so I guess that doesn’t count in the cat world. I had so much to learn. However, she was very willing to teach me. This would work out to both of our satisfactions. Then it occurred to me. I grabbed an additional bowl and looked in the cupboard. Yup. Cat chow was right there-the soft kind. I snapped open the lid and dumped it into the bowl. It slid in with a soft thud. I looked back at my customers. They continued to stare. I just hoped I was headed in the right direction. I placed the bowl in front of FM in her position on the table. She stretched to sniff Oliver’s and then sniffed hers and started to eat her repast. Oliver reached over to sniff hers and then his. He proceeded to stick a finger into hers and taste it. I was horrified, but then he lifted his spoon and started to eat his own. I assumed his must taste better to him. Feeding accomplished! This mother stuff was getting easier, but we couldn’t lose that cat! I said a little prayer as I watched the two diners. We had a peaceful morning as I watched Oliver throw a little rolled sock that FM preferred to her mice. She had taught us this by jumping onto my bed as I rolled socks to be placed in the drawers. She ran circles around the room and then brought it to me. I got her hint and separated the socks into two rolled prey. She would leap upon the sock by jumping up high and landing on her two front

paws to be followed by her back legs. I had seen arctic foxes do this in videos to punch down into the snow and get those rodents. She was punching through imaginary snow to get her prey. My job was to reroll the sock when she killed it by kicking it open with her back feet before bringing the sock to her little pal. He handed it to me, and I rerolled it tighter. Then I handed it back to Oliver. He would throw with all his might. It was a form of interaction. Playing with my two…done! Then, I saw and heard a miracle. Before returning the sock, FM raced around the house with it tucked against her fluffy ruff. First, the smile appeared on Oliver’s face with the evidence of perfect white baby teeth. Oliver than laughed! Yes, he did! I ed in with a soft chuckle. A bonding moment accomplished. FM and I rocked! OK, FM rocked, and I tottered a bit, but I was still learning.

Chapter 24

How did this feeding ritual come up so often? Had we really eaten this often before Oliver? I had grilled cheese sandwiches and heated tomato soup when I heard the door open. Oliver raced behind me and hugged my legs. I raised my spatula. A small figure covered by packages rushed in towards us. FM raced to intercept and raised her back as she let out a screaming rage filled noise. Everything stopped. Les peeked in the door behind the bundled being. He had his “Uh oh!” face on. His mother dropped her packages and screeched, “A cat!!!” My heart sank at this new complication to immediately CATapult back to its original and proper place. I had to fix this and FAST! Oliver was seeking safety behind me. Oliver trusted me and FM to handle this scary being confronting him. FM was taking her guardian role very seriously. The screech was replaced by low growls. These sounds came from FM as I identified the being as my mother-in-law, but my two sidekicks did not know her or trust her. I didn’t know how to feel. I was thrilled that Oliver was seeing me as safety and had gotten over the intense fear that made him race to hide. He was curious and felt safe behind me!! BUT then, I felt overwhelming regret that Louise had found out about FM in this way! She had not been prepared and that was abundantly clear! She didn’t hiss or growl, but she did react! “Oh! Yeah! Sorry Mom, I forgot. I will move our new guard cat to another room.” Les moved toward FM who was still puffed up but no longer hissing or growling. She hadn’t liked the surprise any less than Louise! Both beings stood and examined each other. “No!” insisted his mother in an unusually soft voice that stopped her son on a dime and caused my head to whip from FM to her. “Oliver trusts that cat. Watch him! See that, will you? Amazing.” Oliver had moved from behind me and to his knees next to his protector. The cat relaxed and pushed up against him while keeping her large round eyes on this new threat. “Just bring me Benadryl. Now!”

She sank to her knees and called gently, “Here kitty, kitty.” I smiled as I realized that sanity had been reinstated. I informed her, “Tried that. She doesn’t know she is a kitty.” FM padded slowly toward her. I know FM had understood what I had just said and decided to show me up as being uninformed. It seemed as if she had a sense of humor! FM sniffed this new person and leapt into her lap as she had done with Les. I moved to intercept and grabbed the tissues on my way. Les charged in with the Benadryl and a glass of water. Oh jeez! One should never take the mother of her husband for granted! She proved that to me with her next statement. Louise’s eyes opened wide. “What did you do to this cat? Did you wash her in some kind of anti-cat shampoo? If only I had known about this shampoo long ago. I do love cats. I always wanted one of my very own. Hi baby” she crooned to her new feline friend.” I was finally convinced. The final puzzle piece had been laid. “She is a Russian Siberian cat. They are hypoallergenic.” I responded. She was impressed. Score, me!! Les looked at me like I was crazy. I could tell he thought I was doing some kind of psychological thing to his mother. I pointed to all the printed material on the counter and he moved to read it and look at the pictures. I heard him mutter, “Miracle.” His mother responded, “What a good name for this cat!” Hmmm. Frosty Mystique Miracle? Nope. It didn’t flow. She was FM. Meeting of Grandma and FM, accomplished. Now the task was to open all those presents. Maybe there was one for me. I was about to explain to her that Oliver wasn’t really open to new people but, she stopped me with her gentle little smile and the declaration, “I know. Les told me when he was trying to keep me away for a while. I am now a grandma…kind of. Right? Grandmoms know how to win the hearts of their little grandsons. Just watch and learn!” She walked over to Oliver. He looked at her but didn’t turn or shy away. She offered him a bag. He just looked at her. She sat on the floor and took out a truck and gently rolled it to him. He stared at the truck. He lifted it and looked at her. Then he gently pushed it back. Wow, we were good at this parenting stuff. Grandmom accepted. I decided to take credit for all of the positive stuff happening right now. After all, hadn’t it been Les’s job to fill his mom in on the

new resident? That gave me the right to claim this success. OK, maybe Louise deserved some praise, too. Score something or other for me! I mean who was counting? The rest of the evening was filled with Louise cooing to boy and cat. She apologized to FM and told her that she would have brought a present if “someone” had told her that a royal feline now resided at the house, too. FM looked at both Les and I. We should have explained the royalty within our house to this other royal being. Correction acknowledged! That night, I was able to tuck in Oliver without having to carry and put him in his big boy bed. I picked up FM and walked into his room while telling him it was time for bed. Oliver followed. He put his hands out to FM. I placed her on the bed and she immediately settled on the extra pillow I had put on the bed for her. Oliver followed her and let me tuck him in. When we went to bed I listened carefully. There were no noises. I heard no crying. I was convinced I heard purring. I had read how it was supposed to be comforting. It must be true because that is all I . Insomnia handled! Score something or other plus one.

Chapter 25

It was now Tuesday morning and we had successfully put off the visit by the social worker until Wednesday afternoon. It was a courtesy meeting to see how things were going. I was nervous. What would Oliver think? Would he think Roger was there to take him away? What would social services think if chaos broke loose? Would this be a deal breaker for our little union? I confessed to myself that I was not about to return to hysterical mode. I am better than that. I am a problem solver. I took a deep breath and went to find FM. She would be in Oliver’s room. But no! She walked down the hall and petted against my legs. I just love this cat. She came to where she was needed. Before Les left, he told me he was going to take the afternoon off and come spend some time with us. He could always sense what I needed. Right now, I needed him at my side. FM, Les and I could create safety and calm for Oliver. Somehow, we had to convince Oliver he was here to stay as long as we could manage it. This had to be the way to prepare him for Roger. Roger was not assertive when dealing with children. I had observed this of him and appreciated it immensely right now. He could gently approach the most terrified little person. There was a sense of calm and acceptance about him. He was almost a human cat cross over. I was on my second or third cup of coffee when scuffing noises were heard. There was Oliver wearing the slippers Louise had given to him. They were too big, and he couldn’t lift his feet, or they would fall off. FM was jumping from slipper to slipper while trying to kill these offenders. Oliver was giggling. My heart sped up. This new unleashed joy was due to FM. The most exciting part was that he seemed no longer to be afraid to have me see him happy. Score! Other than hiding behind me, Oliver had not willingly touched Les, Louise or me. FM was frequently touched by Oliver but no one or nothing else. Teddy bears sat at the foot of his bed and in his shelves where I had put them. I ached for this show of affection to anyone or anything else, but, did not push him. I hoped I would immediately recognize when and if I could touch him like a

loving guardian should. Likewise, we had not gotten him to smile or laugh at us. We had to share those moments with FM. I wondered what progress we would have made without that cat. How had her appearance happened at just the right time? I shook my head as I tried to figure out the perfect timing of an angelic fur ball. FM may also acquire the role of Family Manager! I wonder if she could cook. Could that fluffy tail dust? Oliver voluntarily climbed into his chair. I put out two kinds of cereal boxes. He looked down and away from these items. I picked the one he had eaten before. When placed in front of him, he looked at FM waiting patiently on the table. OK, I hadn’t enforced that no cat on the table rule. It didn’t seem to be going to happen any time soon. I repeated the cat food procedure. Both cat and boy looked at me with, “That took you long enough,” expressions on their sweet faces. Oliver picked up his spoon and began to eat. Breakfast was served! What would they teach me next? Maybe I should get a placemat for the cat. She didn’t use a spoon. To amuse myself, I had placed one by her bowl. She chased it across the table and whacked it across the room. Oliver laughed. Score! She pranced back to her food. He threw his spoon off the table. I laughed. OK. That had not been one of my smarter plans. Another lesson learned. Cats, at least ours, did not like to step around eating utensils. I got a new spoon and showed it to him for his approval. He looked at his bowl and put his face in to lick up the left over milk. It did not go well, and he looked up and at me and then the spoon I still held. Phew! Spoon accepted this time as he agreed to continue breakfast. I would not put one on the table for FM again and face the dual ejection of utensils. Breakfast accomplished, sort of successfully. Faces washed and my two were released for the morning. I heard them race to my bedroom and open a drawer. Sock killing commenced until FM got bored. She jumped onto the windowsill overlooking the front yard to take on her guarding role. She was set to maintain control over her fiefdom. Oliver hadn’t been ready to abandon the play.

I was worried about Oliver as he stopped to view the transition of his pal’s attention to this new role. Apparently, he recognized this job as only hers and turned to play with his new truck. I realized that he was playing on his own without his pal. He moved ahead soundlessly but focused. We had gained ground on Oliver’s program! It wasn’t first rate interactive play, but he had sort of played with Louise by pushing the truck to her. Now, he was playing without his guardian. Chicken noodle soup homemade by Louise and toast by me were being warmed and prepared when Les walked in. Oliver was in his chair and FM was on the table. Luckily, we have a sturdy table because Les walked over to the table and climbed up on it. Oliver’s eyes widened and he giggled. His giggle was irresistible. Les and I chuckled, too. Thankfully, Les climbed down and was sitting in a chair when I served us. This time, I put FM’s favorite food, chicken with gravy, on the floor and all went well. She accepted her food on her very own placemat. Les had made that essential connection with Oliver. Oliver would now eat with two legged creatures, too. I had considered that Oliver would move to the floor to eat with FM. He had seemed indecisive but after a long gaze from FM to Les he made a decision. He would eat with humans, too. What a learning curve! We were moving ahead.

Chapter 26

We bundled up Oliver and he wept as we carried him to the car. He reached out to the house. It surprised me until I turned and saw FM in the window. We took this little lad shopping. The Mall was decorated for Halloween. We had planned on buying him a costume, but he was too terrified by what he saw. We rationalized it by saying that it was too cold for him to be out. Observing other children enjoying Halloween in costume would be his first experience. We would move slowly and cautiously. We walked through the Mall with Oliver clutching my coat. It was overwhelming to him. When we drove home and onto the driveway, Oliver started to rock and reach toward the window where he had last seen FM. We feared we were back to square one with him but when we unbundled the lad and set him free, he ran through the house until he saw FM. She had taken her time off from duty to grab some much-needed sleep on top of the dryer in the laundry room. Oliver plopped on the floor and looked at us with relief. He put his arms up to her and she hopped down to him. He sighed and displayed much relief as he buried his sweet face in her soft fur. We had just scored again. We had successfully taken him away from his bit of security and then returned him. Now to mop up the melting snow from the front door to the laundry room and get that coat, boots, cap and mittens off the lad. All was well. Guess what! It was time to eat again! I had lost count. Was this the tenth meal today or did it just feel that way? I felt like I was always feeding someone meals or snacks. TV dinners and restaurant food weren’t continuous parts of our lives now…as much. We had pizza. Yes, again! He had eagerly eaten it before, and we were not about to ignore success. Popcorn followed later with kiddie movies and then bed. Were we establishing a norm? Did this feel right to him? Apparently so, as he reached for FM and closed his eyes. Our little man was ready to sleep. We were moving ahead, but would we be ready for the visit by a man who may

represent moving away from what was becoming comfortable and a little predictable for this traumatized youngster? We had one more meal. Yes, I was beginning to tell time by the meals eaten. One more breakfast and one more lunch and then it was time for Roger to appear. Wednesday morning found a repeat of all morning activities but with less speculation and more confidence. Was it me or him or maybe even both of us? Les was chatting away to Oliver with occasional eye happening. I reminded Les of Oliver’s diagnosis of ASD. It was for my rationalization of Oliver’s lack of attention as much for Les’s acceptance of the behaviors. We could relate these behaviors to ASD. If he was, indeed, an ASD child he was acting in an acceptable manner. Lessened eye and lack of interaction were always problematic. I wanted to let Les know that each interchange was a big concession on the part of our little love. Les promised he would be back for the meeting with the social worker, Roger Blake. I really appreciate that response from my other half, maybe two thirds. After a soup and sandwich lunch, my charges sat on the floor and watched me load the dishwasher. FM walked over and sat on the dishwasher door when I moved to the top rack with dirty glasses. She was certainly feeling at home. I coaxed her off with scratches and cuddles. I herded them into the family room and brought out a book. I am sure you have heard of how hard it is to herd cats. This was pretty similar to getting these two into the family room. It would have made a wonderful “I Love Lucy” sequel. I finally gave up and carried FM with Oliver trailing behind. Both of them would look at the pictures when offered, but forced me to sit on the floor to make this work. FM got close but Oliver did not. Eventually he moved to my side as FM climbed into my lap. I felt his tiny arm encircle FM and then land on my arm. He looked up at me to test my reaction. I smiled. Oliver smiled and I swear FM did, too! I read. They looked and listened. Sometimes FM commented. Oliver did not. The door opened and silence ensued. We sat on the floor and waited. FM and I seemed to know what was going to happen but Oliver wasn’t so sure. Les walked in and he adjourned to the kitchen for a bit of liquid refreshment. He

brought some for us and we all sat on the floor with Les and me taking turns animating the book, Dewey: There’s a Cat in the Library. There were more versions of the book but we had chosen the children’s version. We were a hit! The book definitely was! We decided to keep this book in our family room. Both listeners were fascinated.

Chapter 27

The doorbell rang and Oliver and FM both reacted with jumps and doorway surveillance. FM and Oliver ran to the kitchen to better see the foyer and the house entry from that vantage point. I went to the door and let Roger in. I decided to take Daniel to the lions. I walked him into the kitchen while offering coffee. When he entered the kitchen FM calmly surveyed him. Not so, Oliver. He shrieked and jumped from his chair to the ground. Roger was in the doorway, so he ran to the farthest corner of the room. Once there, he curled into a ball and softly sobbed uncontrollably. He rocked and moved to a soft whining sound. This was new. I wasn’t sure if it was an improvement to the old ive behavior. Three of us were too stunned to respond. I thought I had prepared myself for this but felt a feeling very much like betrayal. FM walked near the sobbing child, but not too close. She seemed to want him to come to her and out of the corner. Roger explained, “I was the one who picked him up from the firehouse and I was the one who took him to the hospital where I left him. Then, I picked him up for our initial processing and then to meet you. I keep moving him to new places. He associates me with change and doesn’t like it at all, obviously. This is the worst I have seen him react. As odd as this may sound, it may be a good sign. He is afraid I am here for him and he really doesn’t want to leave.” I walked to his corner and put my arms out to him. He crept on hands and knees to within inches of me and cowered. I lowered myself to his level and urged Les to take Roger to the living room. Once they left, Oliver ran out of the kitchen, past me, into and down the hall. He continued to his room. He vanished into the room. FM ran after him so I knew he would calm down best with his furry pal for comfort. I brought Roger his coffee and kept an ear attuned to Oliver. I went down the hall to peek into the legendary yellow and blue room. Oliver wasn’t in the corner where I looked for him. He and FM were on the bed and were calm but sad. I left them there to take care of each other.

I walked in on time to hear Roger say, “How long have you had the cat?” to Les. My “uh oh” radar went off. Our confession of the appearance of FM began with the perfectly timed reaction from Oliver. We discussed the calming behavior FM offered to Oliver. I brought out my psychological training to make a case for our furry family member. I said, “She is a therapy cat. Do you hear that he is no longer screaming or crying? She has that effect on him. She has no training but just knows. To take her away would be an unforgivable loss to him. It certainly would set us back.” Why hadn’t we thought of this? I believed that we didn’t this restriction because we did not want to deal with it. We ed that animals in the home of foster parents had to be approved. Roger had been kind when we explained our focus hadn’t been on regulations but on this child. We also told him the entire story about FM and Oliver. I think he agreed to a compromise just to escape the entire unedited version of our precious FM. This resulted in requirements for vet appointments. We accepted this proclamation with relief. This could have gone badly for us as we had not gotten preapproval. The rest of the day got a little better when Oliver saw Roger depart and he got to stay. He had peeked around the door to the living room when FM left him and strode into the room first. His little face went from panic to bewilderment. He advanced into the Roger free room and hugged his cat. I am pretty sure he thought that FM had saved him from the transition man! He was surviving many of his fears. I know he was confused but becoming more accepting of his new environment. I wanted to think that he was beginning to think of this as home.

Chapter 28

Dinner was going to be called in. It had been a stressful day for all of us. Dinner was Chinese, which Oliver refused. We gave a bit of chicken to FM. Oliver watched her eat this strange “not pizza” food and crawled out of his chair and over to her. He took a piece from her dish and ate it. Neither Les nor I flinched. Then, he returned to his chair, climbed in and started to eat. So, now we had a taster. If it smelled suspicious, but FM ate it, it must be ok. Her roles were only growing. My fear of losing her returned. Roger just had to agree to allow her to stay with us. We needed her. Bedtime for Oliver was enhanced by Les and I taking turns reading a story to him while we stroked FM to get the biggest purrs we could for all of us. I swear that my own heartbeat kept pace with her purrs. Imagination? I will never agree with that. That cat was magical. Thursday morning came. This time Oliver pointed to the cupboard and made eye with me. I took out two kinds of cereal. He pointed again. I ed the cat food was in the same cupboard. I got one out. Oliver pointed to the cupboard. I got the second can out. FM walked around the boxes and the cans. She knocked one box over and sent one of the cans crashing to the floor. Was that a sign? I didn’t know if it was real, but it was real enough for Oliver and his guardian. I was very relieved when Oliver didn’t make his selection by knocking his food to the floor as FM had. Maybe it was only funny once for these two with their shared communication. Yes! I realized with a shock. I was a Speech and Language Pathologist who hadn’t, until now, recognized this separate boy/cat language. I would watch it more closely from now on. We all ate what FM had assigned to us. Mission accomplished. Another meal was survived by all. Les called with time sensitive and essential news. He had gotten an appointment for FM with his friend who happened to be a veterinarian. He would be home shortly with a large new carrier for FM. I was nervous and was afraid my two

charges would notice. They watched me with suspicion, but no one made a break for it. It was interesting, that both of them could sense my concern. I had to gain control. They were beaming speculation of my feelings to each other. They were communicating again! Dang! I really needed to learn their communication. When Les arrived, he tempted FM into the carrier with outrageous treats. He closed the door and we packed up boy and cat and set off for the vets. The ride went well with Oliver’s fingers poked through the carrier offering more treats. When we arrived, I took the carrier and Les hoisted Oliver to his shoulders. Oliver looked surprised but settled in nicely. FM grumbled and hissed her disapproval of this new and unsuspected confinement as well as the trip in the car. She knew something was up. Her dignity appeared to be challenged. She and Oliver just couldn’t figure it out. Dr. Cavalier met us in the waiting room. He allowed us to bring Oliver in as Les had explained all to him. A separation at this crucial time would not bode well for man or beast. The twosome was a comfort for each other. Dr. C. understood completely and utterly amazed me with his understanding and comion. When he opened the carrier, our feline beauty swept out. The vet said, “She looks like Mrs. Clark’s Russian Siberian. I think your wife is right, especially with the allergic reaction your mom didn’t have to her. Want me to send for a DNA test? I would bet money on this one. She is stunning.” I was full of questions, “Does Mrs. Clark still have her cat? Could this cat be hers? What is her cat’s name?” I was emitting worry waves to all around except our wonderful vet. He smiled and patted me on the shoulder. He petted FM and me in the same manner. Dr. C. grinned first at Les and then at me. “Her cat is named Czarina. She was just here yesterday for Ina’s wellness check. She is a brown tabby. This one is a golden. I have only the one Siberian on my patient list. Les asked me to call other vets within a ten mile radius. There are no others in the area. We would have heard if anyone had lost this beauty. I will check to see if she is chipped. We may get many questions answered if we find a chip and can trace her to her home. This cat is not out on her own on

purpose.” I told myself to not worry until we knew we had something to worry about. I worried. We left with a clean bill of health. There was no chip. Labs would be in by tomorrow, but Dr. C. was confident that all was well. Les would pick up the health certificate for us and for Roger tomorrow. Oliver and FM were still suspicious, but trusted us to this point. No side trips were planned so all should be ok. Yet another mission accomplished. I hoped and prayed for success. It was essential. I felt guilty because I had told Roger that we would keep FM at the vet’s until all was deemed ok. I calmed myself with the thought that we had not said how long that would be. Yup, all was well. Let us take FM and Oliver home! Both our little loves were quiet on the ride home. They seemed to accept the fact that the disagreeable venture out was now over, and we were going in the right direction. They were not smiling. There was a bit of grumbling from the kennel. FM was released from the carrier as soon as we entered the door. She flew out of the carrier and down the hall into Oliver’s room. Oliver raced behind her. The comfort would now be reversed. I put the carrier in the laundry room on the floor. Then I peeked into the yellow and blue room. Little feet peeked from under the bed. This companionship and caring went both ways. Oliver was showing concern for FM. I sat down in the kitchen for a cup of coffee with Les. We were now evil beasts and had to gain acceptance again. How long would it take? I shook the treat jar, but no one showed up. Hmmm. Guess it would take some time! Oh wait! Someone was coming. It was Les with a liquid reward for me. He had come from the dining room and I quickly abandoned my coffee.

Chapter 29

“Rotten wife and mother” were my thoughts as I realized it was now early afternoon and no one had eaten. Les made the offer I couldn’t resist. He left in haste and returned the same way. Burgers and fries from a fast food empire came in with him. The smells brought out two creatures with both interested in the food and pouting forgotten…I hoped. Les was on his way to a dinner meeting. I envied him his freedom at that moment. That feeling was immediately followed by a wave of guilt. Les was doing his best to help, stay involved and maintain what he needed to do for work. I could handle this. I had signed on for it and thought I had prepared myself. I laid out the meal and put out two cans for them to reject. They ignored the attempt at our normal and proceeded to eat the burgers with FM accepting a third hamburger Les had been thoughtful enough to include. She rejected the bun, but Oliver thoughtfully ate it. That is what pals do for each other. We went out in pursuit of FM prey and I let her pick which color sock she wanted. She seemed to prefer red but that may have been my imagination. The day progressed to late afternoon. Another meal due? How had that happened? I decided to cook. This little boy needed to observe normalcy at some level. I cannot say that my cooking could approach that but… I was going to give it a try. I found canned spaghetti sauce and released it from its imprisonment into a pan. As it gently warmed, I got out the spaghetti. A quick call to Les warned him about what was to happen. He asked how he could help. He was stopping to pick up a key lime pie. Did that go with Spaghetti? It did tonight. The smells brought the fugitives into view. FM looked entitled and Oliver looked apprehensive. Without thinking I swooped down and lifted him up to allow him to safely investigate the pot. First, he tensed. Then, it happened. He put an arm around my neck to feel steady and peered into the pot.

His first words were, “Uh oh!” Some other unskilled cook may have made him food before. I was thrilled with the verbalization. I didn’t realize the potential insult until much later. I was so excited that I gave out cat treats and chocolate at a new consumption level. I put music on and danced around the kitchen with Oliver in my arms. He looked alarmed at first but then started to move to the music while in my arms. I think we had created a memory for him. It certainly was for me. We may eat spaghetti for every meal forever more. I think he was a bit concerned about the process, but we would all survive this. The spaghetti turned out pretty good although a bit overdone. The dancing had interfered with the timing. I handed Oliver half a banana and placed him in his chair. He held it and continued to look from me to FM. DANG! Why did I keep forgetting their pact? I offered a few more cat treats to his buddy and both commenced to devour the gifts. I started to set the kitchen table. This was not a dining room meal. Besides, the dining room was so prettily arranged for autumn and I did not want to have to repeat the effort. Maybe I could do a formal meal between the autumn and Christmas decors. That would be before I redecorated, of course. Autumn would be gone for that meal to take place in the dining room with formal dishes. Yes, this would happen at another time closer to Christmas. After this meal autumn would be packed up and the table would hold Christmas décor. It sounded like an efficient process! I need to conserve time and energy. Both seemed in short supply now. Les swept in with his pie and a bottle of wine. I looked at him and then at the wine and he responded. “What? We need the wine for spaghetti. After all, we are not heathens…completely!”

Chapter 30

The phone rang. Les put down his load, chucked a surprised Oliver under the chin and waved me away to answer the phone as he replaced me at the stove.” Mom! I answered the phone with, “Welcome home! How was the trip to Florida? Did you have fun?” She cut me off with her excited retort. “Yes, it was wonderful. I highly recommend it. How is Oliver? When can I see him? How about now?” I struggled to find a reply to save myself and not hurt her feelings. Was this even possible? “Mom, we are still trying to win him over. Tonight would be too soon as we are about to eat and then there is bedtime. He needs consistency right now. A schedule is important for him. How about tomorrow? Come for lunch with us. It is my last weekday with him before I go back to work on Monday.” I could hear disappointment in her voice, but she agreed. We had texted back and forth and talked late into the night, so she was aware of what was happening. I needed her to be understanding and not increase my load with guilt. She reluctantly agreed. Mission accomplished. We talked more about her trip. She seemed happy and excited about the time away and the time ahead. When I got back into the kitchen, food was on the table and there were two wine glasses with wine and one with juice. Yup, Oliver had a wine glass, too. Thankfully, it was plastic left over from last New Year’s party. I thought of how lucky I was! Les knew the routine and had everything under control. Two plates were on the floor and held spaghetti on one as well as regular cat food on the other. FM had turned her back to the red stuff and was picking at her food. I saw we now had a picky eater on our hands. Oh wait! She had just finished way too many treats. I wondered how that had happened. That night our regular schedule was followed. We implemented stories, night light, FM on her pillow and then tip toed out of our boy’s room. We listened. All was quiet. I thought I heard it again. The gentle purr machine invaded my

thoughts. I started to breathe in rhythm.

Chapter 31

Friday morning was here. Mom was coming to lunch and then we would all go to PreK for our trial period. Mom came for breakfast. She brought breakfast, actually. I didn’t that part of our plan. She bustled in with a big welcoming smile on her face and set out her contribution. I could not this as part of our planned schedule for today. Les was thrilled. He left us with breakfast being demolished. Even FM got some sausage which, apparently, she thought was not beneath her royal consumption. Our newest Grandmom was a success. She came without packages, for which I was grateful. If this grandmom thing continued as it had begun, we would have to add on to the house. Hmmm, I wondered. Maybe off the family room with more French doors and…. More changes were in store for us. We decided to go to PreK early and then Mom and I would catch up with a grown-up girls’ lunch out. We would stay with him for a short time and then leave once we sensed he had accepted the new environment. Oliver had sneaked a few peeks at my mom, but they gently coexisted thanks to our earlier conversations. Mary did not push little man but held a knowing smile. She knew Grandma secrets. They must have a book or something that could not be outed until you actually became a grandmother. I laid out Oliver’s outside apparel and looked for him. Crash! Bang! I turned to see Oliver dragging the kennel into the room. FM, apparently, was supposed to go with us. FM looked at this scene and spun around to race to some undisclosed place in the house. That contraption spelled vet visit to her. Oliver turned to see her vanish and assumed this was not going to be a fun time. He looked like he was going to dash after FM when I stepped in the way and began the explanation. I explained that FM did not want to go, and he threw his boots into the corner. Then, he didn’t want to go either.

I assured little man that FM had to stay home for her nap. Truth be told, he had seen FM take naps at odd hours. FM seemed to understand what I said as she returned and curled up in the living room chair. She now trusted us to take and return her charge. She had watched as I had shoved the kennel into the hall for later return to the laundry room. I wasn’t going to take that short trip now and allow Oliver to think about it and change his mind. Those winter clothes had to go on right now to assure us of a successful and tearless exit! Somehow, we were able to get him into the car with explanations that FM needed that nap. I was amazed that he understood. He certainly did not want to her in a nap. I had underestimated his receptive language. Why would he want to her in a nap? He didn’t like naps, of course! I must that excuse. Mom chatted on with him. He listened but maintained the concerned look he had mastered. We got in the car and I noticed his look directly at the window. I held my breath. FM was not in the window! He seemed to accept that FM was not in the window. Of course! FM was going along with our statement that she was going to take a nap and Oliver knew it. That was why he didn’t expect her to be in the window. It would have been suspicious if she had sat in that window laughing at our trick. How did this cat know that? Well, maybe she was really taking a nap. Cats love naps. Do cat angels need naps? Is there such a thing? I was pretty convinced that we had one of those.

Chapter 32

He would now allow us to pick him up, so I carried him into his new classroom and the three of us removed outside gear. He stood by the door. Mom and I moved into the room and started to play with the other children. The teacher was also a friend and knew his story. She turned and smiled at him, “Class, this is our new friend. His name is Oliver. Help to welcome him to our room. Who is our welcome person today? Oh yes, Clarice, please go give him your hand.” She stated with that magical voice of hers. Clarice bounced up and over to Oliver. She offered her hand. He was now getting used to the sight of others of his size. He was even smaller than Clarice but seemed to recognize her child status. These creatures were not so scary. He took her hand. Slowly, he ed the group with her gently towing him. When they went to circle and started to sing, he ed them and swayed with the music. He did not attempt to sing, but swayed in perfect rhythm. I felt very guilty but signaled Mom to slip out. The deal with the teacher was no phone calls from us. She would call us if she felt it necessary. We went to lunch and I fretted. I had picked a very special place as an apology to Mom for holding her off from her Grandma rights. Mom laughed, “You have new Momitis. He will be fine. They don’t eat small children there. We will go find him a nice surprise after lunch. I noticed that he didn’t have a book bag.” We had a very pleasant and calorie filled lunch. Both of us agreed, silently, to not make note of the calories we consumed. When we finished, she led me in pursuit of Oliver errands. She hadn’t gone to college to learn about psychology, but I am pretty sure she wrote a book on it. I looked at my watch and she stated, “Oh don’t worry. I told the teacher we may be a bit late. I saw something when we first got here that I really must buy.” After a little over an hour and one half of lunch and shopping, I got her headed in the direction of the school. As we walked toward the door, I heard singing and

laughter. There were no screams or weeping to be heard. I opened the door expecting him to run to us. Then I realized that he was not at that level, yet. I scanned the room. This was the 3-4-year-old room. They were little and adorable. A sweet little girl with long red curls and Crystal’s Jamie were sitting on the floor playing blocks with their new friend. Oliver looked up and then stood. He went to get his coat and boots and held them unsurely. He looked at us with uncertainty written all over his little face. I looked at that face and saw no evidence of tears. He was confused. Would he stay where he was, or would we take him home? Had we abandoned him or were we back for him? Was this his new home? Mom went to him saying, “Hi sweetie. Let us get you ready to go home.” He let her help him with his eyes fixed on me. I went to talk to the teacher. “He quietly cried when he turned, and you were gone. Now he knows that when you leave, you will come back for him. I asked Allison and Jamie to help him. They are the sweetest and most gentle children in this room.” Miss Johnson reported. I looked at Jamie in amazement. This report of his behavior was a surprise. This wild little man’s second nature was a welcome revelation to me. He obviously had his mother’s energy and her innate skill with children, even though he most certainly was one. This should probably not have surprised me, but he had always been so active and pretty loud in his enjoyment of life as he knew it. Now, I was witnessing something new and more advanced in his character. I thanked him and hugged him. He smiled back at me. When we got into the car my mom said, “I have a surprise for you, Oliver.” Out of a huge bag she dragged a stuffed tabby cat. He had yet to reach out for something. He merely accepted what was given to him. He waited. She waited. I started to explain that Oliver would not reach for it, but she stopped me with, “This is Oliver and Grandmom time. You drive.” I drove. She waited. He reached. He took the cat and gave her the eye so difficult to gain. A faint smile was also a reward. She knew what she was doing. Maybe if I appealed to the publisher directly, I could get that Grandma book. I needed to study.

I just had to trust that I was not the whole answer to this child. I needed to turn loose the pros like my beloved and trusted mother. I felt relieved in a new way. I was delegating responsibility to someone who had asked for it and could handle it. Maybe, I would survive this yet! I wondered if I could sneak even just a peek at that book. There had to be a book on grandma tricks. When we drove into the driveway, Oliver brightened. He recognized and welcomed the sight of his home. Tears rolled down my face. It was a foreign and wonderful feeling for me. Oh my, I feared that I had more than an interest in this child’s life. I was hooked and it scared me. I looked apologetically at Mom. She was wiping her own tears away. I didn’t care what she had planned. She was staying for dinner. She lived less than a mile away. Maybe she could stay over. Yes, she was staying over!! She was an important link in this important chain for Oliver’s acceptance. She would witness and share this life change with us! As I was helping Oliver out of his car confinement, I saw Les’s mother drive up. Both of his “Grandmas” hugged and started to drag bags from both cars. I took in the packages. I wondered how much an addition would cost. Maybe just an attached storage area would be enough. I would talk to Les about getting a hold of his contractor friend. A bid would be a good idea. I wondered how my mother would handle intrusion on her special time with Oliver and us when I heard Grandma Louise say, “Thanks for inviting me for dinner, Mary! I can’t wait to hear about Florida.” My mom looked at me and said, “Would you like to Louise and me for dinner? Les said it was up to you. I don’t suppose you have had pizza yet. We are going out!” They hugged each other again and I wondered just when this closer attachment to each other had happened. I must be blind. Were this little boy and our miracle cat opening my eyes to other things around me? Was I softening and moving more beyond the immediate? This cat and this child were awakening feelings in me I had not experienced or identified before. I thought I had, but the depth of what was happening to me was miraculous. I suggested we order in and was summarily cheered. I didn’t think Oliver could handle any more time away from his guardian fur friend. School experience completed successfully.

This mom business wasn’t so hard. I stumbled into our home behind the Grandmas and an eager schoolboy! Were there more grandmas out there I could find? This grandma thing was working out for all of us quite well! I realized the power of a grandmother’s love and understanding. They rated right below the angel cat.

Chapter 33

Les strode in an hour later with red and white wine. The weekend was officially in session. Cheers were heard. I quickly looked at Oliver. His lap was full of FM and one arm was around the stuffed cat. He didn’t move although a slight cringe was noted. Oliver did not like noise that he did not make. He made eye with Les and a slight smile revealed his beginning affection or at least some sort of attachment to my man. The Moms aka Grandmas swept the autumn décor aside and then put it in a stack on an end table to replace or put away. They began to lay out the plates, silverware and glasses for dinner. I hoped they planned on redecorating. If not, Christmas would come early to my house. With all the grandma presents about it was like Christmas anyway. I marveled at the acceptance I was developing for plans that were not my own. Normally, I would have protested the autumn decorations being removed as it took a while to decorate when I did it, and I definitely didn’t want to replace it to its original glory. Now I watched and thought of putting the autumn decorations in their boxes and getting out the dining room Christmas decorations. I would be ready a bit early. I convinced myself that there was nothing wrong with that. Things that were important to me were changing. Is that what happened to new mothers? I felt a jolt of sadness. These precious women had waited so long for the dawning of the Grandmahood, so newly introduced to them. I was the oldest of my mother’s children with the other four off in college or abroad. I was her only married child. Les was an only child. They were embracing a title that may be taken from them. We all felt something very similar about our nanny cat. I knew this might happen if someone came to claim either Oliver or FM. Each day that ed with no one looking for her and no luck finding Oliver’s parents gave me more hope. I may have to give up Oliver and FM but for

now…. Now I had something else to consider. I loved these two women and just may have opened a door that could be rudely closed for them. They were rapidly developing obvious deep feelings for this child and also FM. Both of them could be taken from us. How would they feel? How would I feel about what I had caused to happen to them? I pushed these thoughts away from me. It was too late. We would deal with this only if we had to. We would handle it tomorrow. This was my new motto. Scarlett O’Hara had nothing on me. Well, maybe Rhett Butler, but I would not have traded Les for him on any day! It was an evening filled with love. Louise and Mary sat on the floor with Oliver and built towers and bridges for little cars to traverse. FM knocked them down and they laughed and started again. Oliver slowly edged closer and showed immense interest in the undertaking. I couldn’t tell if Oliver had ever had toys before and didn’t know what to do, or, if he was just reticent to let go of his reservations. He may have been afraid to take a chance. He watched them with awe and even handed them things he wanted to see them use. He didn’t really actively into the fun. They gently held their hands out for the little boy to allow him to place these important pieces into their hands. It was a magical night because he opened his heart just a little. Trust in the hand to hand was an amazing concession for him. They opened their hearts to the hilt and even bonded more with each other. As all good things must, the evening came to a close. Laughter softened and promises for more times together were exchanged. Oliver watched with fascination and wonderment. Social goodbyes were foreign to him. He was learning. Someone could leave but come back. It had happened before with these special ladies. Did he even understand that they were leaving? Was he thinking of his mom? Was he wondering if she would return? I wanted to say, “Just ask, little man, and we will help you to understand the best we can.” He continued to look with those huge blue eyes. His facial expression told us nothing. It looked like he was thinking and observing, but what was he really thinking?

When coats and boots were brought out, Oliver shrank against the wall. Now he knew for sure that someone was leaving. Was he afraid they were going to take him or that they were going to touch him? Neither action happened. FM sashayed in between and the Grandmas hugged her instead. She even allowed kisses. They had decided to leave together for their respective homes and let us put Oliver and FM to bed. I had the feeling that they were going to take a side trip of their own for more talking and laughing. They had always liked each other but had led very separate lives. Mom liked to travel and see things she had not been able to see while raising her large family. We were her most important job and left her with little time to make good friends and explore new places. When the last chick left the nest, she spent several years just doing this. Now she was around a bit more. She seemed to be settling in.

Chapter 34

Les’s mother had only the one child, my Les. She lost her husband after Les and I were married. It took time to learn to accept the loneliness that ensued. He had been her best friend and playmate. They had years of joy after retirement. His loss was just three years ago. I would see her pick up a picture of her little family and turn away. I wanted to hide the picture but Les said it was part of his acceptance and should be for his mom, too. The greater the love, the greater the loss and the more unknown time needed before the will to continue life would evidence itself. She smiled more now, but I could still feel her grief. There was never a time when she did not feel her great loss. She had friends during the day, but her nights were spent alone. She kept to herself more rather than less. The first year left her numb. Many people tried to help and were there for her. The second year was a struggle to survive and find joy where she could. This was the end of her third year, and I suspected resignation was pounding its way into her heart. Today, I had seen her laugh and smile more than I ever had since her loss. She told me that she saw no end to the pain she felt, but was working on acceptance. I felt the loss of this special man in both her and Les to a level I could only sense. It was deep and vast beyond comprehension. I was further surprised that our moms showed such closeness. I knew they had been talking about Les and me. When our quest to become parents became serious, they talked even more. It now seemed that they were even meeting for lunches and movies. I found out that they had been sleeping at each other’s homes. A friendship was blossoming and my oblivious being had not been aware! After they left together, I asked Les if he had noticed and he laughed as he said, “Is this a test to see if I am aware of my environment, I win. I have loved watching them bond. I knew you were already aware because that is you. Did I the test?”

I thought carefully before I replied, “You did . I wanted to make sure that you were also as happy about it as I am.” I was not about to let him know that he was ahead of me! Suddenly, smiles on both of our faces slid right off. Then, Les and I staggered with fatigue and sought our bed. We knew morning was on its way and we must be ready for it. The time to prepare for that was now! Morning came with a surprise. Something lightly touched my face. I felt feathery softness move on my cheek. My heart staggered a beat and restarted at a racing speed. I opened my eyes and stared up into beautiful crystal orbs. FM immediately began to purr her welcome. FM had taken on a new job. She was focused on my face. She purred louder and stepped onto me. Then, she started to knead. Did cats give massages? Apparently so! “Thank you for this week you lovely girl,” I crooned to her as I stroked her silky soft fur. Les murmured, “Sure! You are welcome.” I am certain that he did not even wake up. My feline alarm clock made it quite clear to me that it was time to get up. I swung my legs over the bed side and went into the bathroom hoping FM would awaken the father figure. The door clicked shut. Then, I found it necessary to restart my heart. The door clicked and swung open. Oh yeah! FM could open doors! She decided to reveal it to me with the complete certainty of her skills. She jumped on the vanity and supervised my bathroom routine. Her job complete, she jumped to the floor and guided me out. She was establishing a routine. Now she just had to teach the routine to me. We trudged to the kitchen. She left and I heard a yelp. I wondered what she added to her wakeup routine to awaken the dead. The yelp was definitely human. I heard bathroom noises and then saw FM leading Les to the kitchen. Coffee was started and I had to chuckle. “You know she can open doors.” he muttered. We went on to clean her litter and add food and fresh water to her buffet. After watching with true diligence, she turned and left. FM went back to bed. Dang! Maybe in my next life I could come back as a nanny cat! Coffee helped to open our eyes. Didn’t FM realize this was not a workday? She was so smart and intuitive in every other way; why not harbor this knowledge as well? We promised to clean her litter box every night in case that was her plot. Perhaps she was teaching us a lesson for neglecting our cat duties.

This was the weekend before I returned to work and Oliver to school. We sat and talked about what was ahead. More coffee and toast would hold us over until we had to feed our human and feline kids. Yes, we had to give FM her soft food when Oliver ate, or he wouldn’t eat. We were learning. We saw some changes in this little boy. They were miniscule, but they were there. We discussed the changes and our hopes for many more. I didn’t bring up my fears of losing him and the ramifications of such an act as I did not want to concern Les more than he already was. Where did all the confidence Les, Louise, Mary and FM displayed come from? I would them. It was time to rejoice. I would follow their lead starting NOW! OK, right NOW! We realized that we were very tired and not sure if we felt relief from our fears or if we were refusing to face them. If the tentative diagnoses were found to be permanent, would we continue to pursue adoption? I was ready to accept him under any , but it was too early to even consider this. If his parents or family showed up and wanted him back, could they be successful? Would they be aware of his disabilities and would that make a difference to them? If FM’s real family found her and wanted her back, could they produce evidence that she was theirs? How do you fight such a case of ownership of an angel/nanny? Why did I ask so many questions? Soft padding noises were heard. We also heard another set which seemed to be limping. Now what? Limp, limp, limp and slide. We focused on the hall. Tangled blond hair over big blue eyes turned the corner. A boy was under the hair. He had found pants and sweaters in the lower drawer and they were sort of on him. He appeared proud of the task he had taken upon himself. He carried his too big slippers. His pants and sweater were both on backwards. The sweater was also inside out. Unfortunately, for one member of our household, his responsible behavior had not been limited to only him. Our precious FM was struggling along behind. She was also wearing a sweater. One foot was caught in the sweater’s arm hence the limping sound. We laughed and

softly clapped. Oliver smiled! So did FM! I swear she did as they both stopped walking to model. I laughed uncontrollably and they all ed me. Did you know that cats are supposed to be able to produce 100 sounds? I think we heard them all as FM complained about her apparel. Les leaped to his feet while I sat gleefully staring. “It is absolutely time for waffles and bacon!” Les crowed. He wanted to acknowledge this event with Oliver’s favorite food to date. I stopped smiling and thought about the statement. He had been with us long enough for us to know his favorites. Then I smiled even wider. We had figured out his favorite food! I think that should warrant some kind of star. I would tell Roger. He was like the big brother who everyone wanted to please. Les didn’t rush to Oliver. He knew this was a special moment and he didn’t want to frighten little man. I took my cue from Les and rose to get a celebratory round of orange juice. FM stretched and jumped to the fourth chair with the three legs she had available. She knew a bit of bacon would come her way and she would politely wait. After all, she ran this household. Royalty always got served first if they trusted the cook and Les was cooking so… Our day had begun! More coffee in the family room followed. FM had shed her sweater with my assistance and Oliver still wore his backwards. Oliver didn’t seem to notice that FM had escaped her garb. I think I earned eternal love from FM when I secretly removed her cloth entrapment. She looked at me and did her slow wink. I did it back. We both smiled. Oliver sat and stared at his car and track set. We waited without intervention. We could see he was thinking. His eyes were fixed on the pieces as he also scanned the overall setting. Then, he quietly began to put it together with precision and devoted care. I watched, mesmerized. “Is this what a baby engineer looks like?” I whispered to Les. Oliver’s concentration was intense. So was ours. His eyes were on his task and ours were on him! Amazingly, FM watched and didn’t knock it down. I thought, “Of course not! FM knows he is doing it correctly.” The communication between man and beast was almost frightening. Our day so far was peaceful and informative. This little boy was smarter than anyone realized. He showed amazing right brained skills

and unbelievable concentration. The track followed the shape his Grandmoms had given to it originally, but he also added a turn or loop. He would stop to consider this and return to the original shape or allow the new shape to stay. We were enchanted by this display of his thought process. I found that I had even been holding my breath. FM looked proud and only interrupted once when she retrieved a sock and dropped it on the task at hand. Oliver stopped to look at her. She looked back. Oliver carefully removed the sock from his creation and bunched it into a rolled design, sort of. He wound up and threw it for FM to chase. It was engineer break time at our house!

Chapter 35

Lunch was Les’s turn and he decided omelets and Jimmy Dean sausage with sage were going to be served. Two breakfasts? Who’s counting? It certainly escaped the thought process of a not-so-skilled cook. Is there such a word as “noncooks”? I think I will proudly take that title. I declared that we make it a word in our household. We all approved of his menu choice and I even showed this appreciation by setting the table and the floor for the four of us. I was also in charge of the beverages. I was the sous chef. By now we had a low shelf for FM’s placemats. Oliver liked to pick out a new one almost every time we shopped. He trudged over to replace her mat with a bright yellow one. Then he trotted off with the blue one. I followed at a distance and saw him trot into the laundry room where he dropped it in front of the washer. From then on, he watched her mat for spots and took on the responsibility of replacement. I placed a basket for his use beside the laundry. He had chosen a duty to perform. I wondered what that meant. I knew what I hoped it meant. FM also liked to sleep in that basket. Evening fell and Les proclaimed, “We need to celebrate little man’s independence. How about some ice cream instead of dinner, Oliver? Want to go with me to get some?” I sighed. Oliver had never voluntarily gone anywhere. Imagine my surprise when he got up and ran to the closet. We were becoming closer to being his family. His receptive language impressed me more and more every day. FM rolled over with her feet above her head and back legs spread out. She did not want to go, and I agreed with her, but I just didn’t roll over. However, I would have if it had been necessary. She stared at me and chirped. Oh yes! It was tummy rub time. The boys left with an ice cream mission in mind. FM sniffed my coffee and I drank it once she had approved it. She seemed to be informing me that no one had sneaked in to poison it. It was a good alliance. She approved and I drank. We

were both relaxed as we waited for the shoppers. FM was gently dozing upside down in her trusting position. Suddenly, she leapt up and raced to the sliding glass doors growling and intent on her pursuit of some unknown. She was projecting her attack on something on the other side of the door. I stood back in my usual, “Les, there is a spider!” pose. Oh yeah! There was no Les and this was not a spider as FM merely batted them about with no alarm. Something had to be done! Could she open the patio door and confront the scary thing outside? I surprised myself. I needed to help her, and her safety overrode my own. I was a woman with a cause. I grabbed a bat from the closet and advanced on the door. I switched on the patio light. FM stood up on her back legs and actually walked the balance of the way to the door on her back legs. Scary snarls like a wild cat emitted from her. I think my hair stood up on end just like hers. On the other side of the door, teeth bared and standing upright like FM, was a raccoon. I slapped the door with a flattened hand, then both hands. Please don’t make me step out!!! It looked up at me and hesitated. Then, I swear I heard it say, “Crap, there are two of them and that one is just huge!” I can’t that, of course. It raced off. FM shook off the scary event with little effort. She came to me to reward me with a leg pet. She pushed her furry body against my leg and then walked around it. I was less successful in my return from terror. I tried to be calm like her. And then, just like that, I was. Kitty therapist was the newest title. I sank to the floor and held FM tightly to me while I crooned and petted her to continue to calm us both. She turned in my arms and licked my face. She wriggled to get free and immediately ran to the kitchen and to the area where we kept her treats. She had earned a big reward and she knew it. I was amazed at how much she had taught me. I was pretty sure she was proud of me, as well. I walked to stand beside her. She looked up at me and decided on the next direction to be given. She turned and strolled over to my chair. She rubbed herself against the chair legs and then sat down next to my chair. I was pretty sure she wanted me to have more coffee, so I obeyed. After all, she was my heroine and she did run this household. First, I offered some treats.

When the boys returned, I stated, “You better have more treats for FM because I just gave her the rest of what we had!” I told Les the story and showed him the tracks on the other side of the door to my story. He appeared to be very impressed. He stroked his chin and said, “Wow! I have to kill all the spiders in this house. Where did that bravery you displayed come from? I expected it from FM but…” He pulled more treats out of his pocket with a sheepish grin, “I didn’t want you to know I bought more for her.” Our guardian cat is a marvel. I being told that angels dwell amongst us. Now I believed it! OK. Angels don’t gain weight so treats can’t do any harm and she does get exercise chasing dangerous socks…I considered his response and thought I would share my latest conclusion, “It is said angels dwell amongst us. Who is to say it is not possible for them to have fur instead of feathers?” It turned out that cats like vanilla ice-cream! Could this day get stranger? And, also, I did kill a spider once. Really, I did! Les wasn’t home and it was quire ferocious. It could have escaped and hid until night when we were sleeping and defenseless. It had to be dealt with right then and there. I was very brave at broom distance. Afterwards I threw out the broom. I didn’t want to deal with its tiny corpse. I had once seen a YouTube where someone killed a spider and thousands of babies came out. I figured I was pretty lucky this time but didn’t want to push my luck. I really should pack some emergency travel cases in case that would ever happen again. Sunday was uneventful. FM now took her new role to heart. The squirrels were nervous, and the neighbors’ cats moved to other yards. I think FM decided it was getting too cold to be outside, so she handled defense from the inside of that door! She sort of saw it as a favor to me. I did not want to find any frozen bodies. She communicated that they were not welcome in our yard quite effectively. I wondered if she would do spiders, too. She had vanquished that one in the bathtub. It was a great thing to add to her resume. She suddenly leapt up and ran down the hall. She was growling as she sped by me and to some other spot in the house. After fruitless searches, I quickly (ok, not too quickly, but the whole point is that I did) determine that someone was

coming, and she wanted me to get to the door and open it before the doorbell could be accessed. She hated the doorbell and seemed proud that I had learned this fact. I knew that when she ran away, she wasn’t concerned about the arriving person but wanted out of the room with that horrible sound. My job was to get to the door before the finger could press the button. She was shaping our lives with a determination and stature that befitted her as Heroine and Champion of the household and all who entered. I now had a new chore. I was vanquisher of the doorbell.

Chapter 36

Monday came and Oliver went to school. We started a new era. He went in with me while holding tightly to my hand. He knew something was up and the last time he was in this room I had left him. Jamie ran up to him with his welcoming smile. He took his hand and pulled my boy away while telling him of things that needed attention, fun things! Oliver looked back at me. Eye ! Then he allowed Jamie to enlist his help! They walked away together hand in hand. Jamie would have it no other way. At the end of the day I went to pick him up. I had determined that I would not go to check on him as often as I wanted. The teacher was great, and I did have my cell phone. She had promised me that they would call if I was needed. I got Crystal to help me with that pledge. She laughed at me and texted a picture mid-day she had taken of Jamie and Oliver building a Lego tower. She said Oliver allowed a double hug as long as Jamie was in on that hug. All was well. Bless my super friend. I hope that all you readers out there have a friend like my Crys. It was time. It was time to pick him up! I hurried to get my boy. The other children were waiting with him. They were watching for their parents and were excited about going home! He hung back as he saw each parent and child embrace and celebrate the reunion in many happy ways. All the other children yelled,” Mommy or Daddy” or… Oliver watched and learned. He looked up and saw me watching and waiting. He stood up from the floor and started to run, then stopped and then started to run again. He looked so uncertain about what to do. I went to my knees and held out my arms. I tried not to but couldn’t stop myself. I wanted him to make the first move, but also wanted him to know that I cared about him. Then, he surprised us both by running into my arms. At the last minute he turned and backed into me. I took it! It was very close to a hug! I gave him mine and felt him relax into it. I would have loved to have heard him yell at me the way the other little ones had done. Everyone said he was making progress and that

was true. I wanted the progress to include confidence and love. I wanted him to speak. I wanted… Would that happen? I had heard that first verbal response of “Uh oh!” which I held as a hopeful beginning in my mind. It was in his baby book. I had started that book for him when my mom had brought it to us with the advice, “If we lose him, it will go with him. He will know he was loved by so many.” I need more coffee. Maybe a few tissues would help sop up the disposed of coffee as it routed itself through my eyes. I wasn’t crying. I was disposing of excess liquid. We went straight home as I could see errands were not to be. He was very tired. It had to have been an emotional day for him. He must have felt abandoned again. I carefully looked at him as I released him from his car seat and then from the car. I put his feet on the ground and reached for his hand. He was compliant and stood quietly as I reached for that little hand. He allowed it but did not hold mine. I felt like I had a small stuffed animal in my hand. We had lost ground.

Chapter 37

I held Oliver’s hand and carried my computer. The plan was for some guy time while I caught up on my school paperwork. I had IEPs coming up and I liked to set up everything except the goals as soon as the date was set. These goals would set up procedures and learning tasks for the child being served by me. I needed my files and daily notes on hand for that. This was how I managed to keep my head above water in the paper world. Ask any Speech and Language Pathologist and they will tell you of the endless paper hours that detract from the time spent with students or the time spent with family and friends. It only seemed to be getting worse. My mind was on this as Oliver’s little hand slipped from mine and, consequently, he slipped from my tether to his safety. I noted that he stood right at my side with his eyes on the door into the house. I felt safe as we were in the garage, so no alarms went off. I took this opportunity to turn to grab my briefcase. I turned to herd him into the house. Just that fast, he was gone. I threw the computer and case by the door to the house and quickly scanned all around the car. He was nowhere in sight. He had been so docile and still. I just couldn’t imagine him dashing off anywhere. Where and why had he gone? I looked all around the garage a second time in case he had heard FM and returned. She had softly called for him through the door. My best chance was her calls to him. I dropped to my knees and looked under the car, as well. When I was certain he was nowhere inside the garage, I proceeded to the driveway. I could feel my heart beating. I realized that if he had been in the garage, he would have heard FM calling and run to the door between them. He was always so anxious to reunite with his furry pal. I heard FM calling from the closed door with greater volume and urgency. I returned to the garage and pushed a heavy box against the door to not lose her as well. She hadn’t opened this door before, but motivation hadn’t been hers before

now. I immediately heard the knob rattle. I had been just in time. She was frantic to get into the garage. That was not a good sign for me. I couldn’t handle two run aways. I ran back outside the garage and stopped before I slid on the icy surface. I looked for his prints and saw none. He must have headed out on the icy sidewalk…toward the road. Why would he do that? Had he seen someone or something he wanted? I raced to the end of the driveway and looked down the sidewalk to the next houses. Nothing. No one, big or small, was in sight. “Oh please, not the road!” I heard myself cry out loud with such a pleading voice. The hard-packed snow left after tires pummeled it into trackless and icy surface was giving up no clues. He was so tiny and light that he would have made little in the way of tracks if it had been possible for him to have gone to the road. I realized that my mind was still working, despite the panic I felt. Headlights were coming down the street. Please let it be someone who had kids or pets and drove carefully. I ran into the road wildly waving my arms. This person would think I was crazy. I only hoped the car would stop before it ran over me. I had to ask if they had seen a tiny boy and slow their progress at the same time. It was Les. His big car pulled over and allowed me to move beside his door. I waved him into the garage. I knew he would realize it had to be Oliver on the loose and drive slowly. He drove slowly into the garage He got out with his briefcase in hand. He looked at me curiously. He waited for me to explain the behavior he had observed. “I think Oliver slipped back out of the garage. I can’t find him. Help me.” He dropped his briefcase where he stood and listened as I stammered the details so far. There was no recrimination in his eyes, only concern for me and Oliver. We scanned in all directions outside. Nothing! Thankfully, Les didn’t ask me why or how. I felt so guilty. I needed to set that aside and concentrate on the task of finding this little boy. Was he trying to find the way to whatever home he had before us? Had his first day without us at school made him feel abandoned? Les stated, “You have covered all I would have, but I have an idea. I can hear FM trying to get out here. She may be the answer. I pray she is the answer. I am going to get FM. I got her a harness and leash when I got her carrier. I thought

we might need it at the vet.” He raced into the house before I could remind him that we had a cat, not a dog. I had a winning team and I so needed that. I should never underestimate Les, or, FM as it turned out. I went to the end of the driveway and called. A neighbor had heard me and come out to help. He started to call Oliver’s name, too. Oliver didn’t answer. Of course, he wouldn’t. but he might come toward my voice. At what age did directional sound become effective? I couldn’t answer the question I should have had the answer for, because, I was so filled with adrenaline and fear. Then I realized that it had little relevance. He wasn’t coming to us. He would have come by now. Les came out with our fur girl regaled in a bright pink harness and matching leash and I noted a disgruntled looking fur ball. He put her down in the driveway. She wound herself up into a ball and sat there looking miserable. Our neighbor looked at Les like he was crazy. Was he going to walk the cat at this time? I explained that the cat and boy were very attached. Then he looked at me like I was crazy, too. FM shook herself and surveyed the area. She didn’t move. She raised one tentative paw and looked at me. I realized that she thought she was being held down by the harness. Then she rolled over and kicked as hard as her hind legs would allow. Les flipped her over and moved a few steps away. He tugged gently to give her the idea. She suddenly raised her head and took a couple tentative, experimental steps. She could move!! Fast study, girl! She cocked her head and swiveled her ears as she listened. Suddenly, she displayed absolute intent and acted. She kept low to the ground and swept down the driveway. She suddenly leapt into the frosty grass and sped to the neighbors with Les in tow. Our neighbor and I followed. I did it with confidence, but the neighbor displayed, “Are these people crazy?” on his face. Suddenly, I heard it, too. A whimpering sound could be heard above the crunching of our boots. I lowered myself to scan the bush area. Oliver was crouched under the neighbors’ bush by their front door. We will never know why he did that. We will only know that we would not have heard those tiny helpless sounds. Only our sharp eared cat could have heard the plaintive cries of her charge. Her kitten was in trouble.

Oliver saw us racing behind FM. We were all calling his name as we advanced until I saw him cringe. We were coming too fast and it frightened him. He reached out and my heart stopped. FM ran to him and he enveloped her and cried into her fur. OK. It was not quite what I had hoped for, but it was a display of affection. I would take it. He allowed Les to pick him and FM up and hold them close. Our first really big crisis ended. Lesson to me learned. Never let him go…never. I meant that in so many ways. Les rushed them into our house leaving me to turn to the neighbor. He asked, “Was that a cat who found him? Am I nuts? It sure looked like a super fuzzy cat. Was it some kind of little dog? Did I just see my first rescue cat?” I gave him a quick update of the breed with a request for him to google it. I didn’t want to stay chatting. He understood. I thanked him profusely. Then, I apologized for my haste and ran into the house. Les had left a pile of wet clothes and cat gear in the foyer. I followed his voice to the kitchen with a promise to the abandoned gear that I would return and restore dignity to them. Treats were flowing from the treat jar and refrigerator. I slid into my chair and the end of the line to wait for mine. Les’s eyes were still a bit glazed. FM seemed unaffected like she had known what to do all the time, if, I had just trusted her. She looked at me and gave me her slow blink of love. I had been forgiven, at least by my furry friend. All was well.

Chapter 38

Time ed with little extra trauma due to the heightened surveillance. We had learned another important rule. You should never get too confident and take anything for granted. Halloween was at the end of this week. It hit midweek and I was concerned that a late night would not go well for Oliver. Decorations were kept at a minimum as he seemed very hesitant to approach any of the scary type. Even cute ghosts and childish witches alarmed him. If they moved, they were worse. He never screamed or yelled but he cringed and ran to FM if my home decorations caused alarm. He pulled away from the horror if we were out and about. His classroom set up a safety tent for him but kept decorations at a minimum. He was allowed to go into that little exclusion and regain control. Everything was big and scary to him. His bedroom and his guardian were his safety objects at home. He carefully watched FM as she showed sniffing interest in the changes at home, but little else. Soon, he accepted our meager decorations, but made wide circles around any change that hinted at Halloween. I would have to talk to his psychologist about this. I picked up some corn stalks to put near the door. That seemed like autumn and shouldn’t be scary. I brought them in to the house to place outside later. First, I would rearrange them and secure them with a wide ribbon. Maybe I would use burlap. I had to think about it! FM raced in and leapt for the top. The stalks tumbled down. Instead of running, she started to claw at them and chased the pieces throughout the house. Oliver started to giggle. I sat down to watch. FM grabbed a bigger piece and raced around the house. She was trying to get one of us to chase her and steal her new prize.

That is not exactly what happened. Oh, she had gotten the attention she wanted but the reaction was a bit different. Was he going to run after her to claim her prize? She was inviting a chase. I would soon find out his intention. Oliver moved toward her and then bent over and picked up a piece and put it in his mouth like she did. He sputtered and grimaced which made me laugh. I hadn’t meant to laugh but it had been a natural reaction. OH NO! Had I just made a mistake? I watched closely and saw him turn toward FM as she raced back with her proffered temptation. She skidded to a halt and looked at her reluctant pursuer. She couldn’t believe that he wasn’t reacting as he should have! Chase me kid! He shook his finger at FM. Was this a bad cat gesture? Is that how he had been disciplined? So, FM finally made a mistake in the eyes of little man. Now what? Nothing happened. Adoration continued. FM turned to me. I complied and chased her for her prey. Someone had to do it! The stalks were destined for the garbage, but he had laughed!!! It was so very worth the cleanup that followed. I was pretty sure I had reacted in an acceptable way for both of them. We get our rewards and praise where we can find them. I wasn’t sure I deserved any, but I decided to imagine them. After all, I still had to clean up the car after my delivery of those corn stalks. Later that evening, I went in to do a final check on Oliver. He wasn’t in his bed, but FM was. I felt panic assault me. He would have had to by us to get outside. I would go to the front of the house and search back a room at a time with Les left to check from the other end of the house. Just then I heard a rustle and saw a movement beside the bed. We had placed FM’s bed beside the youth bed in hopes that she would sleep there. Now it was a cute catchall for Oliver’s growing stuffed animal collection. Oliver was curled up in it. Why? I certainly couldn’t ask him, and FM never confided in us where her little pal was concerned. She was not a tattle tale! Maybe if he started to talk and could this event…I felt my heart slowing. Could all these scares cause heart trouble down life’s road, with age? We could try to explain everything to him, but he couldn’t ask questions for clarification.

I sought Les and told him the latest happening as I had not alerted him when I found the bed empty. He did not know how this had frightened me. He laughed uproariously. “In the cat bed?” he asked. As I acknowledged the statement, I saw the humor. I chuckled. “I left him there,” I confessed. Then he grew completely silent and walked slowly toward me. “Don’t move.” He whispered. Oh no. I hated spiders. Could it be? No. He reached into my hair and plucked out a hair. “Aha. I thought so! Oliver is giving you grey hair! Relax, my love or we will have to invest in a beauty shop somewhere.” He narrowly avoided the punch I aimed at him. He didn’t attempt to evade the hugs that followed. We went for a little liquid refreshment. Les offered, “They didn’t warn us about this part of parenting in their classes on fostering. Do you think we should compose a few more points for them to reveal to their foster parent hopefuls or do they avoid these tips to not scare potential candidates away?” I just sighed. I had decided to give up thinking for the rest of the evening…hopefully! I did chuckle which brought him great pleasure. He loved it when I got and appreciated his humor. It was appropriate as I got and appreciated the man.

Chapter 39

Life went on to the next adventure. I reminded Les that we were also meeting at the end of the week to do an IEP for Oliver to get speech services in the school. His goals would reflect language including social language. We had no idea of what his articulation needs might be. You cannot judge how he speaks until he speaks! My concern had been that I would have to serve as his Speech and Language Pathologist. I needed to be his mother. It was an ongoing venture to reward and shape communication attempts. I had gotten the news that afternoon. They had found another SLP to fill the existing open position. It was a critical needs position and SLPs were hard to find. It was one more little miracle to add to the book I was keeping for him. Oliver would have his own Speech and Language Pathologist. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would be completely gray any time soon. Les had set free another concern. Wait! My mother was blond like me but didn’t have a single gray hair. I think I had just been told a less than true story by my dear hubby. It had been a joke but often a bit of truth accompanies a joke. Gray hair! I was not going to worry about it! That night I stayed up late to work on paperwork. I suddenly put my head on the table. The fatigue was overwhelming. Were we doing the right thing? Could we help Oliver? Would the search for his parents turn up someone and then what? As you can tell, these were reoccurring thoughts and concerns. The cameras at the fire station had shown the back of the person who had dropped Oliver off and then rung the bell before running off. I only hoped that she had stood off in the dark watching to be sure that someone would take him in. It was thought that the abuse had not been physical. He did not show obvious signs of restraint or blows. His x-rays revealed no mending or mended bones and he had almost no bruises. His muscle tone was delayed but there could be many

reasons for that. What psychological abuse had happened and how would we find out? I gave it more thought and realized that it had been done. He showed signs of it every day in the form of fear and lack of trust. What event or events had shut him down and ended verbal communication for him? I had no one to ask. He certainly wasn’t talking, and FM may know with her instinct, but she spoke a language only Oliver seemed to understand. The woman who had left Oliver had red hair peeking from the hat covering her head. She had pointed at the step and then at him. He moved to the step and sat on it. She had said nothing to him. This seemed to be how she was communicating with the little boy. He seemed to have been trained to be quiet. He was doing a great job of it. He hadn’t run after her, but had stood to watch her before plopping down on the step. She left Oliver with a troubled perplexed expression on his sweet little face. He looked like being left was not new to him. Sadness and resignation were not new to him either. He was barely three and had been trained like a puppy. He understood how to be quiet and stay. Red heads were in short supply in town and none had children uned for in their history. She had left him, and he showed resignation and blind obedience. Where had she come from and where had she gone? The longer it took to locate a possible familial guardian would increase the time needed to allow him to be eligible for adoption. There were many steps before he could be adopted if that was the route for him. We would continue to offer him a chance to live a normal life as long as we could. He was making changes. Most of them were with FM, but they counted. He had never been abandoned by a pet and she had this sweet affection for him. He needed her. Out life also wrapped around anything we could do for our furry friend. We had a better chance of reaching Oliver with her around. I must add, here, that many of my socks were disappearing as Les tried to see if she had a color or texture or size preference. So far none had been discovered, but the quest seemed never ending.

When I recovered the socks, they were so snagged that they could not re the mates left in my drawer. I had resorted to hiding new ones under the bed in a box neither cat could open, or husband find. It was a small concession to make.

Chapter 40

Halloween was here, today, and the kids were more than a little excited. The PreK program and Kindergarten were going to have a parade and the entire student body of grade one through five was going to stand in the halls to cheer them on. The parade would wind through the school led by the teachers, assistants and volunteers. I went early to pick up Oliver and hold him while the children ed. He seemed overwhelmed by the sheer number of observers. We stood at the end and watched the little ones . We had taken this position to allow him to see the reaction of the other children and parents. His classmates all yelled. “Hi, Oliver!” The costumes that had frightened him were now on the bodies of his peers. He seemed wary but fascinated. We might make it through tonight after all. They had lessened the volume of the music for him and I had placed headphones on him to help. I was sure he did not have a sensory disorder with sound, but just wasn’t used to it. In any case, we were taking no chances. We survived it and I returned him to his room to the celebration. He allowed his teacher to put cat ears, whiskers and a tail on him. He loved his image in the mirror. Did I take pictures? You bet! On the way home we stopped at Target to see if he would like a costume. He didn’t mind looking at them, but they were not going to be put on him. There were no cat costumes, or I might have had a chance. It had been worth a try. The grand moms were coming to have pizza and hand out candy with our little man. He would love to see them. They were fitting nicely into his little world. As his world experiences ed through my mind, I realized just how little that world was. We constantly strove to add to it while erring on the side of caution. All five...oops, six of us, ate a meal made by the grandmoms which meant it was nutritional, flavorful and filling! No pizza after all. They even made a special tuna treat for our girl. Oliver had some, too. Louise and Mary gave Oliver as

much attention as he would allow. Acceptance, comfort and no expectations emanated from them. He felt it and relaxed. He was becoming more trusting of them and would look at them when they talked to him and even climbed up on the couch between them when they read to him. The new book was about a little lost black kitten who ultimately found a home. He was enthralled. He seemed surprised that the kitten was black and other kittens appeared in the book. I think he didn’t realize that there were could be more than one cat. So, he seemed to reflect, perfection can happen more than once. Louise vanished from the scene and snatched FM as she walked by our fuzzy girl. I had gone into the kitchen to check on the candy load when I heard something that got my immediate attention. I heard a gasp and ran into the living room with impressive speed. FM had run back in and was sporting a lion mane attached around her already impressive ruff. Louise must have been responsible for this bit of entertainment. Oliver had gasped and looked like he may cry. Les scooped up our cat and put her over his shoulder. FM was enjoying the cooing and petting and rubbed off her newly found fur on Les’s shoulder. Oliver did not take his eyes off FM until the first doorbell rang. Introduction of our first in-house Halloween costume successfully made. The doorbell, however, did ring. FM hated this loud sound, so she ran off followed by our brave boy. After that, we made sure we got to the door before it could be rung again. Both scaredy cats eventually returned with FM leading the way. She had not forgotten the bribery cat treats our grand moms were handing out to her. She knew she was in line for a few after the humiliation and noise she had survived. She had killed that ruff with great enthusiasm. Oliver bit it, too. The outside lights were on. The next trick or treater, who came to the door, was a fairy princess with thermal clothing under her dress. Oliver made an “Oooo sound.” His little lips were rounded in wonderment as the princess was ed by a dragon wearing a heavy jacket. The evening was progressing nicely. Oliver could not be convinced that he should offer the visitors candy, although he did pick up a bar and then threw it at the next group. At that point we decided that he would be allowed to watch

rather than take part in distribution. He was very comfortable with that change in plans. I was about to turn off the lights when the monsters arrived. Oliver let out a frightened cry and FM spun with back arched and ears pasted back against her head. She relaxed and turned to look at Oliver with eyes rounded and her dolphin sound reproduction emitted. She was definitely saying, “What is wrong with you Oliver? It is just a bunch of kids. Don’t make me work when I don’t have to do so!” Oh yes, we had a grammatically correct cat. This miracle cat had so many expressions that we were always enthralled with her reactions. I found myself chuckling softly, much to Oliver’s amazement. He didn’t think these creatures were to be ignored or to be found amusing. Oliver relaxed and sank back into his little rocker. I must learn how to make that sound! I can sort of round my eyes. I had the chirp down now, but the trill and dolphin sounds still evaded me. I will practice. Grand moms returned to their homes and bedtime routines were observed. I eventually headed to bed while attempting the dolphin sounds. I wasn’t up to the trill tonight. Halloween had been survived. One big challenge a day seemed about right to me. The next morning, I went to my car to put the computer in and started it to warm it up with Oliver and I holding hands. Les was having an automatic starter added to my car. It certainly would make the morning routine easier in the winter. Once the car started and the warming had begun, I returned us to the house to wait a bit and then safely prepare for departure. But, now, we would not go out until the car was warm and ready to go. I was always very alert to his location now. When I got to school, I carried our little one into his class for his day of work. The kids were loud and very active. Yup. This was a typical day after Halloween with sugar highs in all the little learners. Oliver watched the increased activity with interest but no fear or avoidance behavior apparent. Rapid movement was now ok for him. Oliver seemed to willingly get caught up in the melee without his normal cringe due to the loud noise, as well. This made a more definite difference in his normal reaction to sensory challenges. It was a significant positive.

I looked around and had to smile. Let the fun begin! I left for my therapy room while wondering how long my amusement would last once my own students reflecting sugar highs and lack of sleep came for therapy. “Let us see how funny you think this is around noon!” I muttered to myself. My students were excited, and less sugar crazed than I had expected. I took that for a good sign for the rest of the week. I had planned for their change of pace with an active high energy activity. We were having breath control Olympics today with straws, ping pong balls and whiffle balls. The key to a turn was tied to their speech and language goals.

Chapter 41

The day I knew would come, came. Crystal cornered me by the cafeteria. “It is time. Bring Oliver and Misty over to play with Jamie. Our kitten is a riot. He is a tuxedo, so we put a little bow tie on him for Halloween. Oh my, he is cute. We are going to take a picture with him wearing that red bow tie. We will use it for Christmas cards. I think I will have Daddy and Jamie wear tuxedos and red bow ties. I will wear a black cocktail dress with red jewelry. Did I tell you, we named our smallest boy, Sir Reginald? We call him Regi.” He had been kitty for way too long.” I don’t agreeing, but my lack of response was always read as an approval to her plans by the lovely Crystal. If I didn’t want to comply with one of her plans, I would have to put it in writing. This was in the form of a text on those rare occasions. If it is in a text, it must be so. I had agreed, so, now it was time for this to be put into a framework of time and date or date and time or…. just do it! A date was made for the coming weekend only after it was agreed that FM (she insisted upon calling her Misty) would not be coming (text assurance required). My friend still didn’t understand the cat world. Cats don’t like play dates! The week ed with more fatigue and no incidences. It was Saturday morning, and Oliver’s first play date had arrived. We bundled up and hit the road. November meant snow would soon come in greater volume. We currently shoveled every other day. We were still lucky for now, but knew it was inevitable that our world would turn white in feet not inches. We pulled up to Crystal’s two-story home. Blown up snow men and Rudolph bid us welcome. Thanksgiving wasn’t until next week but Crys was ready for Christmas. I looked at the display with amusement. Oliver looked at me for on this sight since FM wasn’t here to help him decide on the scare meter. This was so predictable of our Crys. I noticed that one of the Santa elves was a turkey sporting a red and green hat. My motto for Crys was, “Don’t ask!” The door banged open. They had been watching for us. Jamie was jumping up

and down in excitement and led Oliver off to his room almost before we could dewinterize the boy. These two had bonded in school and a get together outside of those hallowed halls created much excitement. Jamie’s room, as I ed, was a Toyland. I could lose Oliver in there for days. Crystal led me to the kitchen for Keurig coffee and her version of homemade cinnamon rolls. They popped out of a can and had to be baked. Yup. Homemade. This was Crys style. This was a step up for me who believed these rolls could only come in paper trays covered in plastic! Compared to me, she was Mrs. Homemaker. After an hour of “school talk” I insisted upon sneaking up to Jamie’s room to peek in. I stood outside the room for about ten minutes. Jamie was prattling away. He didn’t seem to care that Oliver was not talking. In fact, with Jamie’s love for chatting, I think he preferred it. Oliver was agreeing nonverbally to Jamie’s satisfaction. I had desperately wanted to find Oliver talking. That would mean he could talk but just didn’t trust us yet. Jamie was his best friend and a normal first keeper of secrets. It was a communication growth, a beginning. That was not to be. Nonetheless, they were very happy with their arrangement. I would have to be content with the body language and interactive play I observed. They were smiling at each other and crashing cars into other cars and racing them down a rug imprinted with roads. I was pleased to see the interactive play for a very good reason. Oliver only did parallel play when I first brought him to his classroom. The other children seemed foreign to him. When he showed awareness of the children it was to plop back into sitting position and watch while seeming to be puzzled. It was as if he had never seen small people before. The interactive play I observed now, was very encouraging. It was a type of communication I welcomed. I took communication at any level with this youngster. Had the grandmoms or FM helped him learn this? They included him in play scenarios. Of course, there was FM who played with her human kitten. Speaking of felines, where was the famous Regi? I backed away and skipped down the stairs for my fifth cup of coffee…or my sixth…or. When I got back to the kitchen, I found the kitten happily ensconced in my chair. Crystal had moved my cup to another place setting. She apologized

for the move with, “Oh that is Regi’s favorite chair.” Yup. Familiar priority had been established here, too. Cats have a way of asserting their superiority without the conscious knowledge or awareness of his or her humble subjects. We were subservient and we were not even fully aware of it. What training they managed with their human subjects! Crystal could handle it no longer. Self-restraint was not one of her finer points. She poured yet another cup of the black wicked stuff she called coffee. I could feel the flesh creeping beneath my skin. I couldn’t handle much more of this almost chewable caffeine. The next words let me know she was both nosy and concerned. “What does the new Speech Therapist say about Oliver? Is she making progress with him? Does she think he will ever talk? Is her theory just that he had words scared out of him or that he never has spoken or even attempted verbal communication?” I started to laugh. “I will look for progress of that level after another month or more. If I look before that I will not recognize it. He is demonstrating nonverbal gains. He is making eye , following two and three step directions and showing emotions other than fear and sadness. He smiles sometimes and he loves FM. I can see how he trusts her. That is progress.” Suddenly tears formed. What is wrong with me? I am a tough German girl. I never used to cry. I did now! Crys looked surprised, shocked and sorry in one single facial change. “I am so sorry. I want everything for you. Don’t cry. You’re calm and comfort me. You are my rock. I don’t know what to do except…” She rushed around the table and enveloped me in a long and forceful hug. It felt good. It felt right. I cried more. She hugged more. Just then both boys came around the corner. Both sets of eyes got huge. Jamie rushed over and hugged me as Crys retreated. He whirled on his mother, “Bad mommy. Why did you make Auntie Lee cry? Say sorry!” Crys and I broke out in laughter. Little man Jamie smiled at us both and summed it up with, “Good. Now we are all happy! More hot chocolate?” Crisis avoided…or at least delayed. Sugar reward ordered by the little gentleman who seemed to be in charge at the moment. I looked at the time. “Sorry. Two of us must leave. Come Oliver. Let us get your

boots and jacket.” I looked at him. He stood staring in disbelief and something very close to horror. The emotions he had just seen had frozen him into his little world of avoidance and isolation. I scooped up this stiff little creature and got him into his outside clothes and then into the car. I couldn’t help but notice Cry’s look of disbelief and pity. I had told her all I knew about Oliver, but this was even new to me. He appeared to be in a trance in his escape from the unacceptable. He may have been exposed to something like this and it had ended badly. There could have been a better ending to our first play date. I needed to call in the behavior to our official listeners as soon as possible. I wondered if it was a form of PTSD reaction at the ripe old age of three. How do you treat this at his age? I would call his social worker as soon as I was alone. Then I would report to his psychologist. Right now, I needed to get him home and try to extract him from this trance he had entered.

Chapter 42

I sped home as fast as was safe and still observe the speed limit. I got him into the house and out of the winter gear. He picked up his toy cat and hugged it tightly. FM came around the corner and he threw the toy and reached for her. She stopped moving toward him and gazed at him for a brief moment. Her evaluation completed, she jumped straight up in the air while spinning around and sped off for a game of chase. It surprised me because she had always seemed attuned to his feelings. He sat there in disbelief and then turned his gaze to me. I sat on the floor beside him and took his little hands in mine, “Go play with FM. It is time for chase. She knows what is best for us and now she wants you to chase her.” He thawed before my eyes. He stood and raced down the hall. FM had his number, after all. Did I as well? Maybe FM and I were now a team. I would take it. Oliver was back…as far back as he allowed. The phone was ringing. It was Crys. She was devastated and started before I could say anything except, “Hello.” Distress was in her voice as she said, “I am so sorry. I didn’t know how to fix it. Are you ok? Is he? He just left us. His body was there but…” This time I firmly interrupted her. I recanted the story of our arrival and FM’s intervention with the result. I heard her sigh. I didn’t think another invitation was in the making for a while. She must have had enough of us. Boy! was I wrong! I way underestimated her comion and composure. The next invitation was very soon! I smelled food. I wasn’t sure I was ready to eat anything so soon, but felt a great relief that Les had anticipated a possible problem and thought of a possible partial solution. He understood that a first playdate could be a scary thing. My hands and body were shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was the mega dose of caffeine and sugar or the new incident to add to Oliver’s behavioral needs. Les was making comfort food. I was in the mood for that three-cheese pasta. It didn’t even come from a box! One of us was getting way more talented in the culinary world. You guessed wrong! It wasn’t me! I am sure you guessed me! Dinner wasn’t pizza, but it certainly would do! It did involve cheese, after all.

Life continued in the fashion and direction it had already taken. Les took on the role of chef and never ceased to amaze me. I didn’t even know he knew how to make meatloaf and mashed potatoes. That was the meal the next evening. We weren’t even taking turns anymore. His decision to take over this duty was much appreciated, and he seemed to enjoy doing it. My version of homemade was that it had to be heated on the stove instead of in the microwave. Wait! The microwave could heat up homemade so it should count. I am pretty sure I read this somewhere. Whatever the conveyance it took to the table, it was homemade! Even popcorn counted in my world. Oh wait, I did learn that it could not go in the oven. That was a messy lesson learned. If I ever write a cookbook, a no microwave popcorn in the oven notation, would be categorized in the DO NOT section. I would have a lot to contribute to that section. Well, I wasn’t telling the Grandmoms my version of homemade! They may not agree with me and I wasn’t in the mood to google it to prove my point. I am pretty sure it is in there somewhere. It is all in how you phrase it. I know google would agree with me!!

Chapter 43

I was ready for a change. The good news was that Thanksgiving was coming and Monday was the beginning of the week off. It was change and it was being thrown at us way too fast. I was ready for time off, but not for the big family event that event normally necessitated. I had worked hard and the inclusion of the new speech and language pathologist at my school allowed me to be a bit more paper free for this special week. I needed time to spend with Oliver to gain his trust and to just rest. My brothers and the grandmothers had agreed to skip a family get together to not overwhelm Oliver but had informed us that it would change for Christmas. I felt their reluctance to change this family event, but persisted in my request. Les, being an only child, expressed concern about his mother being alone, so she was coming. She was bringing everything to ensure appropriate and delectable food that could actually be eaten with pleasure. She wasn’t aware of the amazing growth in the culinary world her son was demonstrating at our house. I think we will keep it a secret. I love being fed by many chefs! I think of it as sympathy food and the popularity of this food, even compared to comfort food, was on the rise! I am pretty sure of that. At least in my house, it was! My mom was going to in the festivities of her other children. They had all returned from their travels and were spread between North Dakota and Minnesota. They fought over her, so she was going to spread herself amongst them all. She loved to travel so there was no problem there! The weather might limit her adventures. Her best interests would be observed. Family cohesiveness was still going to be a part of this holiday, just without us. We would be there in heart and probably by phone. We might even skype once Oliver was in bed. I didn’t feel confident in adding flat family to his world, just yet. I actually looked forward to time off without the rush created by work and

multiple appointments for Oliver as well as school related events. He was being seen by a child psychologist. He had medical appointments and dental appointments. Les and I took turns taking him. I asked for respite from it all over vacation. The psychologist suggested we take more time off to lessen traumas for Oliver as long as he was settled into our home. He anticipated that they may have to pull him out if his behaviors escalated as it had in the hospital. He wanted us prepared for anything that could happen to a traumatized foster child. Oliver was teaching us these behaviors and our hearts ached for him. This was even more important with the new coma type of behavior he had exhibited. I was constantly battling off more play dates with Crys and crew, but the psychologist wanted me to try again without big swings of emotions from his adults. Les and I concurred, and I heaved a sigh of relief. I was positive this would help with the bonding. We would have time with him without many others involved. This would be down time for all of us. FM had arrived in Oliver’s heart, but we had work to do. I figured he was curious and accepting of us but there it ended. He hadn’t chosen interaction with anyone except FM. In all fairness, this was interaction!! I had been amazed at the fast attachment these two had with each other. I had read about how animals and small children are so therapeutic for each other. My psychology classes had covered the magic found in these interactions. I was convinced that all I had heard and read had been substantiated with the evidence found in my house. FM was therapy for me and Les, as well.

Chapter 44

There was one more test we were awaiting. Oliver experienced cold or allergy symptoms after being at Cry’s home. Allergy test reports were coming to us Monday. The allergist had promised us that deadline. If it was allergy, we would take action in that direction. We hadn’t started to treat it as a cold as it seemed to end when he got home. I thought he may be allergic to cats and dogs but not our hypoallergenic girl. The week was progressing nicely with no other notable events. Sunday brought a snowstorm and the resultant layers of snow. Les bundled Oliver into his snowsuit and took him out to build a snowman once it slowed to occasional snowflakes. I looked out and saw a smile on the face of my man…. Wait! Both men! It was dreamlike. It really looked like a Norman Rockwell painting in motion. I sat down and let fatigue roll over me, consume me. Relief also came and I just watched them. I needed this time with FM as much as Les and Oliver needed male bonding time. FM seemed fine with everything. I think it was proceeding according to her timeline and plans for us. We seemed to be meeting her expectations for us. Having her approval and lack of concern, did wonderful things to me. She slowly strolled over to me and soared into my lap. She didn’t wait for an invitation as she knew her presence was welcome whenever and wherever she felt like gifting it. Then she pushed and nestled herself next to me in the chair. The slow blinks we exchanged told us both how life was right now. I really expected Norman Rockwell to show up with his painting gear. I blinked at FM again and she seemed to agree, yet again, with her returned slow blink and soft purr. After a half hour, FM went to the door and chirped to get out. She stretched up and rattled the doorknob. No way! She was not going to go out and in the fun. I didn’t care that she had originated from Siberia and probably handled the frigid world better than any of us. I would turn the heat down if she liked! I

could put ice chips or real snow in the bathtub of her choice. She would not be allowed out! She could not get lost! I wouldn’t allow it! Our world would collapse without our furry therapist. I appeased both of us with treats. Mine were chocolate. She preferred chicken treats. I was very careful to not mix them up. By now we knew her preferred food and treat choices and made sure her list was observed. She observed me as I retrieved our treats. She accepted hers with a slow blink and soft purrs of agreement, acceptance and contentment. On Monday there was a reoccurrence of bundling and an outside voyage. FM went to the door, chirped and then ran into the kitchen. Yup, she had this down. Her learning curve was outstanding! She asked to get out and I refused. Then in guilt and a need to appease, I would give her a treat. All was right in her world. She hadn’t even tried the door knob this time, but I didn’t want to disappoint her. My learning curve with her was impressive, too, and so shall it continue. We decided to be proud of each other. This, of course, called for the anticipated dosing of chocolate and chicken. We returned to the window with our treats to find Les galloping around the front yard and driveway. Galloping was the right verb for his behavior. At his heels was a bright red sled with a little boy hanging on for dear life. His face said it all. He was having the time of his life. Oliver may have even been laughing. It sure looked like it. Bright blue eyes twinkled. I could see that Les was doing his share of the laughing. The phone rang and FM and I were both disappointed to have our bit of heaven interrupted. The news was that Oliver would begin allergy treatment for his allergy to cats and dogs if we had one in our home. I told the allergist that we had a cat, but it was a Russian Siberian and that he had no symptoms in our home. FM was a Russian Siberian or an angel, but Oliver wasn’t allergic to either. She was aware of the breed and their claims so was pleased to have our confirmation. When we visited Regi and his family we were to give Oliver a baby Benadryl before going. He was to get a prescription for nasal spray and inhalant to use only if needed. I returned to my observation. Maybe I should take up painting. Just how had

Rockwell painted those enchanting scenes with flying subjects? I would not even be able to photograph them! That last part I told myself, as I didn’t want to attempt it for real in the ice world in which my action was happening. That picture would be maintained in my memory banks instead. When my boys came in, I had hot chocolate and cookies ready on the table. FM was sitting beside her treat door. I kept an eye on her for weight gain, but she was very active and maintained her fluffy round self without adding to her shape. Reward was in order for this group. I felt so light and almost carefree. Fatigue was forgotten or buried or…it was just gone! Life continued at this pace as Les had also taken the week off. We went for walks with Oliver being pulled on the sled. Oh yeah! The sled needed explaining. Les had picked it up on sale for a Christmas gift. The early appearance…. welllllll….we are, after all, talking about the love of my life aka Les. He had the softest heart ever. There was a child and there was snow. There was a sled. The equation added up to what I had observed. Les knew where that sled resided and that it was just waiting for Christmas. He also decided that it was a waste of good times. The good times had to start as soon as possible. I could see that Oliver whole heartedly agreed, if he was, indeed, capable of that with his limited experience with gifts and holidays. Ok. I imagined that he agreed. I should have majored in wishful thinking as it was a distinct skill I possessed and practiced. In fact, I seemed to be honing this skill!

Chapter 45

The day before Thanksgiving arrived and so did Louise. She actually came the day before Thanksgiving to get settled in and was immediately taken in by her crazed with joy, son. He insisted that she bundle up and go out for a wild sled ride. Time was not to be wasted. She turned to me with a dubious look on her face but Les could not be thwarted when he was motivated. I just smiled. She would have to make this decision with no help from me. I already knew what the outcome would be, bundle up, Louise! Oliver watched and listened and then proved the vastness of his rapidly developing receptive language skills. He ran for his coat and started to jump for it to try to get it off the hanger. He understood what was on the agenda and wanted in! The Grinch had nothing on me in the heart department. Soon three fun loving individuals were running around the yard. Louise was clutching wildly to the sled as both boys raced over the snow. Instead of the terror I thought her face would reveal, I say bliss and sheer joy! I was reminded of the fact that Les was just like his mom. Her face was mirrored in his. They even took time to build a fort. I watched as they pilfered my best bucket and our newest snow shovel to pack the snow blocks, they needed. Les and his mom were whooping in joy. Little Oliver looked like he was trying to them but couldn’t get it worked out. Whoop therapy was going to be put in his next IEP. I smiled as I imagined how that would go over at the next meeting. Perhaps I would call for an amendment meeting to add this new therapy goal to his present IEP. I laughed out loud as I imagined the confusion that would cause! My job was to put away all the items from the bags containing essentials for tomorrow’s dinner. Les had grabbed his Mom and byed her plea to put the food she brought away first by looking at me in silent entreaty. I agreed. Louise had looked at me with “traitor” in her eyes, but I knew she would forgive me. After all we were talking about her son.

They came in with rosy cheeks and big appetites. Lunch was consumed even though it came from a can and plastic wrap. Tomato soup with cheese and grilled cheese sandwiches were thought to be delicious. The four of us looked each other over. We all needed a nap. Louise and I rinsed dishes and loaded the dishwasher under FM’s supervision. The boys went for naps. Louise itted that a nap would help her to recover from the chaotic play. I added that I was exhausted but mine was long standing. Being a new Mom and continuing with a regular “before” life was hard work. I had a lot of makeup to do in the sleep department. We went our separate ways to the next part of our unwritten holiday plan. Imagine me without a written plan or list! It had finally happened. I blamed it on overload! Everyone awakened and outside play continued. I put a roast in the crock pot and a bake it yourself loaf of bread in the oven. We had a repeat performance and decided that the mandatory three stories would be read, and we would have a late dessert of ice cream sundaes. The fireplace was started, and stories shared. Les said he and his mom would put Oliver down for the night if I was willing to finish cleaning up. It was a divide and conquer technique at our house. They never returned and I went to see why the bedtime routine could possibly take so long. I walked from room to room to check on my group and found them all fast asleep. FM was curled up beside her boy. She looked up when I came in and stretched and flipped over for her tummy rub. It was the only part of the routine I could complete so; FM got an especially long one. We both enjoyed it and I am pretty sure we were both purring. I didn’t have all her sounds down, but I excelled at purring. We had been known to have competitive purr offs. I was not alone because I had her. We retreated to the kitchen for a couple treats and more conversation. FM helped me work on my trilling and chirping. As I said, I had some of her purrs down to perfection but...

Chapter 46

The next morning, I didn’t need my feline alarm clock. Wonderful smells throughout the house proved intoxicating. When I went to check it out, I found FM supervising from her post in Oliver’s booster chair. Louise was explaining the process to her during the dinner making tasks. I stood back and watched and felt that Grinch heart thing going on again. Tears of happiness are for real! I made sure Oliver wouldn’t see them. He didn’t understand tears of joy…just tears. Eyes, ears and noses were super busy as was evident when Les and Oliver also arrived in the kitchen. They all appeared refreshed and ready for another day of complete joy. That was also on the menu for the day. I would have married Les anyway, but his mother had been part of the deal. It had been win win for me! I realized it even more today. We ate breakfast late, so it became brunch. I liked this new routine. Maybe I could retire early…way early. Or maybe, I could become an author and write at home surrounded by these loved ones. It was something to think about and put on my bucket list. I had investigated this possibility long before Oliver arrived. I even picked a publisher and editor. As soon as life allowed, I would write this book. But, for now, one dream realization at a time! Well, maybe two or three could be handled. The day continued with games and books and stories around the fireplace. Why was Rockwell so late? I mentioned this to Louise, and she gave me her motherly smile. She gently stated, “Perhaps he could visit as a ghost or spirit as he died in 1978”. Hmmm. I was probably aware of that but decided that I refused to believe it. I would wait for him. He would want to be here. Every moment of our present existent was worthy of being a painting and maybe there was a Rockwell replacement. His replacement was probably snowed in. He should invest in a red sled! We moved on toward the moment of the dinner. The smells had overtaken the house. They should invent a potpourri that smelled that good. Until, they did we would continue to have our living version aka Louise.

At one point I could not find Louise. Everything was under control in the kitchen, so she left me in charge with little fear of a mishap. The table had even been prepared by me when I was told that I was on vacation and needed to stay out of the kitchen. It was the only task I was allowed. Those orders I loved to follow! I walked to Oliver’s room as I heard a murmur from there. Oliver was sitting on Louise’s lap with eyes half closed. A nap was underway. I am pretty sure they are not doing grandmom cloning yet, but I would have been a customer if it was only a reality. What a gift she would be for so many! She was reading to him from a new book that had magically appeared. It was a Christmas favorite from Les’s childhood. I gently closed the door and felt my heart swell. Maybe now I understood the Grinch at his special moment. Lucky Grinch. Lucky me. Louise came back into the kitchen later with a sweet smile on her lips. She stated, “I am trying hard to not love him. It is too late. I have lost the battle” We hugged and said no more. Les walked in and ed the hug. What were we to do? After Thanksgiving, it would be time for the big talk. Today we were going to celebrate our combined love. That was enough! The warmth in that house was not solely due to the furnace, kitchen stove and family room fireplace. It emanated from all of us. Little man woke up in time for the big Thanksgiving meal. I think the wonderful smells woke him. Louise was sitting in a chair. Oliver walked in carrying the new book and went right to Louise. He put his arms out to her while clutching his new book. She picked him up and walked into the family room with him. There would be a slight delay for dinner. The dinner was a big success. Grandmom Louise was going to stay overnight. She had been scheduled to return to her home. She had no choice. When it was nearing time for bed, Oliver, vanished into his room. I fully expected a game of chase to burst forth from his room. He may have been going to his bedroom in preparation for play or books. Naps were not easy for him. Those big blues didn’t want to close. I believed that he didn’t want to leave the conscious world in case something happened, but the

question was whether that was good or bad. He was more willing to go to bed at night when he saw that we would all be doing the same. Just recently, I thought I heard him come into our room during the night. Perhaps he was making sure we were still there. When I checked on him later, he was sound asleep in his little bed. I could have imagined it but, I think that he may check on his new world when his people are unconscious. He may need the reassurance that he is not alone. He would not go to his bedroom to prepare to sleep. He simply fell asleep wherever he was if he was ready before we were. It seemed to still be his norm. Most of the time we carried him to bed while he was still awake but sometimes, we just found him curled in a corner with his cat. We carried him to bed with FM checking the windows before ing us. I turned and went into the kitchen to bring out some celebratory wine. There was FM washing the dishes in the sink. I adjusted her focus by putting chopped up turkey in her bowl. I appreciated her part in the celebration, but, thought that she had done enough work and didn’t need the dishes on her list. She was our everpresent hostess. We came to an agreement and I packed the dishwasher while she packed herself with fresh turkey. She liked a little gravy on top! I went to check on Oliver and saw him race past me and up to Grandmom. He already had his pajamas on as we had done that about an hour ago. We introduced him to eventual bedtime that way. Pajamas were sleeping clothes. It was part of his transition. He brought Grandma another pair of pajamas. I asked him, “Do you want to change your jammies?” The pair he carried was one of his favorites, if not his very favorite! He responded with a shake of his head-the first time he had answered my question with any sort of communication other than compliance. Usually a question like that was just like talking to myself. It didn’t keep me from asking, however. I am the eternal optimist. I was pleased and curious by his head shake. I quietly said his name and he turned to me. Another coup! “What do you want, Oliver?” Let us try that again. He turned to Louise who was sitting in her chair. He laid the pajamas on her lap then looked at her and locked gazes with her. He gave her a big bright toothy smile! I didn’t think my heart could swell more. It was so very evident that the Grinch had nothing on me.

He was indicating to her that she should put on the pajamas. Grandmom was staying over. Grandmom smiled sweetly at her little friend and said, “These are too small for me, Grandson. I will wear Mommy’s new pink ones. Let’s go see what you think of them.” Off they went to invade my chest of drawers. I had sort of wanted to wear those soft pink flannel pajamas myself but……Grandmom was staying overnight and it pleased Oliver so, so be it. As they ed by me hand in hand, she gave me her wicked little smile. Those two certainly could bring on a smile of my own. I thought of the fact that we had not heard anything on his birth parents or family I feared the consequences of this boy-grandmom bond for both. I worried but did not know what to do about it. I was pretty sure the Grinch didn’t have these waves of fear and sadness once his heart grew. He certainly had them before but having had his heart swell to such a big size had been his remedy. It didn’t work that way for me. I reminded myself, yet again, to not worry about what was possible, only stay focused on what was evident now. I knew I would be telling myself that several times. I went in to turn down the covers in the guest room for our overnight guest. I also found extra toothpaste, a toothbrush and laid out bath towels. Anything else she needed she could find as she was becoming quite accustomed to our home and where everything hid. Just before I left the room, I placed a small mint on her pillow. Welcome and Good night Grandmom!

Chapter 47

That night, when I woke up and went to check on Oliver, I felt a renewed and more intense panic. He wasn’t in his bed. I quickly surveyed the room. His stuffed cat and FM were nowhere to be found. He wouldn’t be able to leave as we now had dead bolt locks and chains on all our doors. We even put new locks on the windows. Debate had begun about putting in a security system, but FM was sort of the best of the best in that category. Where would Oliver go? No one could have gotten in with our increased security and our guard cat. Now, to just relax and search were the only wise options. He wouldn’t be interested in catnip or a beer so that helped to eliminate reasons for nighttime movement. He might have followed his guardian on her rounds and fallen asleep somewhere. He felt safe in his little yellow and blue room. He had never have left his room, except to go to the bathroom at night and he rarely did that. Of course, he was suspected of checking on us, but he was never missing when I checked his room. He wouldn’t take the stuffed cat with him in any case. As long as he had his selfpropelled cat, he didn’t take the carry-along cat unless to share it or show it off. Yes, FM would follow him to the bathroom but not the stuffed cat. FM saw trips to the bathroom as a confinement area for her humans and an area which was handy to get maximum pats and scratches. She loved humans of all sizes in her water room. OK. I sucked in my breath and then concentrated on slow and easy breathing. It was a calming technique I used with my stuttering students. I found it worked for me as well. A room by room search was the plan before I awakened Les. I knew many children’s books. The one that came to mind now was the one about the boy who cried wolf. He cried wolf when none was around, to get attention. Unfortunately, when he needed help because the wolf really showed up, help hadn’t been there for him. When I knew I needed help, I would seek it. Everyone in this household needed all the sleep possible.

My little lamb would be safe, but I just had to find him to convince myself. I would start with this area and then would enlist Les’s help if I was unsuccessful in my search. The bathroom was first on the list. When I approached, I noticed that the bathroom and guest room both had open doors. That would make checking even quieter. I started with the bathroom and even checked behind the shower door and down into the tub. FM liked to drop her favorite toy, the coils, coated with a rubbery substance, into the tub and play with them in their imprisonment. Other times she relished chasing them through the house before bringing them back to one of us to be thrown. Oliver and FM might both be in there. Oliver went where FM went. No life form in the bathroom! Two rooms down. I figured I could call FM or rattle her treats to see where she came from but would not do that yet. I didn’t want to disturb her unless necessary. If they were cuddled up together somewhere it might awaken Oliver. If I found him asleep somewhere, I could just carry him back to his room without disturbing him. Now, I was going to quietly invade my mother-in-law’s privacy. The soft light from the hall revealed suspicious lumps in the guestroom bed where lumps shouldn’t be. This could be important in my search. It was encouraging. I took a deep breath and entered. I hesitated and confirmed that Louise was fast asleep. Just an aside-what the heck! If you are asleep you are rarely fast. Even sleepwalkers…but, this is not the time to digress. I moved with the greatest stealth I could manage. It wasn’t FM quality but pretty darned good for me! I sneaked up to the closest lump on the end of the bed. I pulled back the blanket. Soft fur rewarded my fingers from this search. The murmured plurrrt sounds let me know I had found FM on break from guard duty. Oliver had to be nearby or else safe, if she was here and relaxed. I relaxed, too. The other corner hosted something silky. Two cats? What a silly thought but I had been thinking of getting a pal for FM to be with her when we were gone for the day or maybe on a trip one day. What a strange time for that thought to come to the surface. A closer surveillance revealed the silk to be attached to a little boy’s head. I had found them. They were tucked under the throw from this room. All was well! But why had they come to the guest room when they never came as a pair to

ours? I felt a great release of tension. I hadn’t even been aware that I had been holding my breath. I glanced up to view an unaware grandmom and saw the stuffed cat tucked under her arm. What a great host little man turned out to be. He had sensed this special grandmother’s loneliness and wanted to help. He hadn’t snuggled next to her but had given his cat to her, the stuffed one. Then he had taken up a post nearby. Had grandparents been a part of his life? Had they been an important loss for him? If so, why hadn’t they searched for him? Perhaps he was becoming attached to this person and not as a Grandmother. Perhaps one day we will find out. I heard FM trill to me. I reached out and scratched her soft head. She rolled over to present me with her tummy. A gentle silky scratch was good for both of us and her purr would help the room’s sleepers sleep even more soundly and help me to relax as well. She stretched and released me from this pleasurable task. I tip toed out with a friend. FM jumped down and returned to her patrol of the house. I felt bad about disturbing her during her break so rewarded her with a few treats. All must be well as she calmly accepted them. I tip toed back to our bedroom. Les was awake and sitting up in bed. I responded to his raised eyebrows by reliving my trek. He sat quietly while I told him about my experience from my scare to my discoveries. I could see his eyes change from concern to great loving softness. He was touched by the gracious and loving behavior the little boy had shown. Oliver did not snuggle, but he gave her his special toy for comfort. He knew she was in a new place as he had been. What else had this little intuitive boy known or felt? Tears welled. That was a kindness he could display without touch. I thought about the ASD label again. Touch and eye were two give aways. But, inexperience with people and touch and lack of affection could cause this as well. Could he have an attachment disorder? I must talk to Roger about this. Oliver was very attached to FM and showing more willingness to interact with us as well. Now, I had more thoughts to keep me awake. I wondered if I could

persuade FM to dispense some of her purr therapy. She was on duty elsewhere. Les’s look of pleasure at the endearing story was replaced with a look of great remorse. His mom had found love with another little boy. I knew he was worried that she might lose the recipient of her love. She was lonely and Oliver had turned on a light in her world. He had offered her purpose and a need she could help meet. Oliver seemed to have sensed it and returned as much of her unconditional love as he could. He did this is his own halting but sincere way. We had signed on with the knowledge that we could lose him, but we would help him. Had we taken into consideration the feelings of so many others so important to us? I didn’t asking them to sign on. We had entered this responsibility with so much naivety. Life’s lessons are not always easily accepted or understood. We hadn’t imagined that our family would attach themselves so closely and quickly to the little travelers on their journeys through our home. The key was in that plural word-travelers. We could only hope this love would be moved to a new little needy recipient when Oliver no longer needed us. Life went on with more awareness of what could lay ahead for us. Louise had gone home with much acclaim and promises of more time together. I noticed that she referenced multiple coffees and get togethers with my mom. Those two had always professed that they liked each other but that was now developing into a genuine friendship. I was pleased beyond words. They were no longer so alone.

Chapter 48

We ended our vacation week and those special times with Little Man. The conflicting emotions were tantamount to the biggest joy in life and the greatest sadness possible all at once. What had we done? I kept saying this to myself. Were we really bad at this foster gig that we had taken on? I beg to differ. We rocked. If we hurt ourselves while creating love and safety for children-so be it. This boy would lead his life with love and confidence. Just how he would do it was yet to be determined. He was teaching us how much we could give to a little lost soul. We may just be a detour for him and his little friends to follow. I would say this to myself many times to help make it real. We had a purpose and a goal. Was it like this for everyone? There would be no foster parents if this was the case. Some of my students had foster mothers and fathers. I needed to get help from Roger. He had to have dealt with these feelings from other foster parents. He would have developed techniques to help others learn how to handle and survive fostering. No, it may alarm him regarding our competencies as foster parents. I couldn’t risk it. I would do better. I would. I had to do better! I was sure of one thing; we were meant to do this. Perhaps we could even add to the training program for future foster parents. We might be able to encourage them to take this important role on. We could act as free advisors and maybe even offer through get togethers. We were committed to the hope that we could give children new beginnings. We also harbored the knowledge that we could also lose any child assigned to us. We were determined to improve his or her life by bringing in love, acceptance and encouragement. We would do this either in his or her return to birth parents or with us, permanently. I repeated this to myself in many ways. I was trying to make sure that this feeling continued as we became dangerously attached to our boy-cat team. We had been committed. Were we now? Somewhere Oliver had birth parents. Their intentions and reasons for leaving him were unknown. I had to keep reminding myself that this was all about the child and not us and our family.

Now, I just said it again and would keep saying it to not forget and maybe anchor the thought! We wanted to continue to brighten the lives of children who were lost with the hope that one would stay with us one day. We hadn’t known that such strong emotions would become so much a part of the process, especially at the beginning. We could share that knowledge. We could prepare others for this noble cause. Then a new concern hit me. FM and Oliver were tightly bonded. If Oliver eventually went to his birth parents, would they accept the cat as well? I immediately felt guilty referring to her as “the cat” because she was so much more. Could Oliver be persuaded to move on without his guardian? Could we survive losing them both? Was Les thinking the same thing? I decided to not bring it up in case Les was not dealing with it. We would live in the moment. I again thought of adding another cat. Perhaps Oliver could attach to that one too and we could keep our girl. The double loss would be mammoth. We had to get another child or another cat. OK, I was worried way ahead of time. The bestcase scenario would be to keep them both. Meanwhile I must research attorneys for help with both loves. My mind refused to give up these thoughts even though I tried to move ahead by investigating the possible attorney solution. I also could not imagine one without the other. They were a unit. FM and Oliver were the perfect bonding between man and beast. The transition for Oliver had been so smooth because of our little lady. I had to look at a replacement for FM if I had to let go of her, too. I knew this breed was hard to find. Like Scarlett O’Hara, I would deal with that tomorrow. Tomorrow, indeed, was another day.

Chapter 49

School was as big an endeavor as ever with the heightened excitement of our students. Yes, Christmas was everywhere, and we were headed to the big event with special classroom events and the tasks related to those events. Everything leaned in that direction from writing assignments to …you name it. We were a rocking institute of learning! You must work in a school setting to understand the true cascade of events and behaviors. Excitement rode high. Some of the kids did not want school to end. I found that out when I found a little girl crying and unable to tell me why. I tried to reassure her that school vacation was soon to happen. Those thoughts made her cry even more. It was time for the school counselor to find out what was happening or not happening at home. The excitement was intoxicating for almost all except Oliver. He sensed the difference and heard the stories but, was merely confused by all of it. He swayed between smiles of discovery and fears of change often accompanied with noise and action. He did not show us the trauma “freeze” that he had exhibited at Crys’ house. However, we often were concerned that he might. So far, he had stepped toward the chaos with a little smile only to retreat when it opened to include him. He was a watcher and not an interactor just yet. We had hopes. I partially judged this transition by eye . He was less afraid and often fascinated. His teacher and staff were magical in all his actions and events. They told us of his behaviors and how he reacted when they gently urged him toward acceptance of his new life. I knew his teacher and her assistants had been trained to work with all kinds of children, but I truly believe their brand of magic had been born into these individuals. I sensed his increasing acceptance of his educational world every time I dropped him off and every time I picked him up. Yes, even every time I peeked into his room through the window in their door. I was an addicted classroom peeper. He looked up and caught me one time. I froze. He gave me a very gentle smile

and responded to Jamie’s hug and push toward a new adventure. I stepped back and saw him turn one last time to check on me before I returned to my errand. Then a special moment happened. When I stopped to pick up little man, Jamie came up all excited. He said, “Ollie said my name. He did! Didn’t you, Oliver? Say it again!” There was no response, but it was handled well by the Jamester who spun around to run for his coat and boots. His mom was coming in the door. Had Oliver spoken or was this simply wishful thinking or another child saying Jamie’s name and Jamie thought it came from Oliver? We will never solve this mystery. I was pretty sure Oliver’s first word would be the name of his guardian. I asked for validation by his teacher and she reported that she had not witnessed it. She confessed that Jamie had been trying to get Oliver to say his name and it could have been the wishful thinking I suspected, but, then…as if to comfort me, she pulled out a picture drawn by Oliver and gave it to me. The picture had two large beings with a smaller one and a pet in between. We knew the pet was a cat by the gigantic whiskers it sported. I was thrilled. Was he seeing us as a family unit? When we got home, I helped Oliver tape it to the family display, aka as the refrigerator, for Les to discover. When he saw it, he scooped up boy and cat and the sounds of giggles and cat complaints were heard throughout the house. Treats for all of us were needed. It was time to shop again!

Chapter 50

We were headed to two weeks of Winter break better known as Christmas break for students and their parents/caregivers. Oliver had loved Thanksgiving and all the happenings then, but this was bigger and wilder and more colorful. All his senses were being triggered. Christmas was everywhere we went and was even everywhere in our house or soon to be. I started to decorate early and slowly. I noticed him as he discovered every change. He didn’t display either acceptance or fear. He was taking it all in. I even let him put up our manger scene in the house and he helped Les outside as they put up lights and our large lighted snowmen. Again, ive but curious were the descriptive words for him. I would have given much to have read his mind. We had been taking Oliver to Sunday school and wondered what knowledge and comfort he had acquired from this. His Sunday school teachers had raved about how thoughtful and attentive but silent he was. Was he taking it in or just being compliant? We had cued them in to what was going on in his young life and noted how careful and accepting they were in their interactions with him. He was in another healthy environment. They knew he needed time and reassurance. His world was still scary and uncertain. They all loved this little being. His receptive language was blooming. His big expressive eyes were an opening to his world, and I saw so much reflected in their blue depths. But there was so much I did not understand because I did not know his background. I was uncertain about his diagnoses. Therefore, I could only guess what his reactions might be. I was afraid that I wasn’t as prepared as I needed to be for him. I tried not to watch him every second to give him a more natural environment, but as duty and love mingled it became harder. Every time we got a call from our assigned social worker, Roger, our hearts stopped. So far routine checks were the focus, but we knew that the Christmas season found negligent parents in the mood to reunite, at least for a time, with

their abandoned children. They felt this love blossoming all around them and the entire child centered happenings warmed even the stoniest of hearts. Christmas brought joy, but also isolation and loneliness to many. It was a hope to be had and yet produced memories to crush the spirits of those in less than ideal circumstances. What was it to the family of little Oliver? I had to wonder if it was like animals who got adopted over Christmas only to be abandoned as the responsibility grew and their caregivers’ ambition and love didn’t. The innocent and vulnerable, who required and deserved the most and best care, often received the least and worst. These dear animals found themselves abandoned. If they were lucky it was in an animal shelter and out of the winter elements. There needed to be other committed people to help with the transitions to better futures for so many injured and abandoned. I decided that later we would help with the animal shelters when Oliver was ready for it. Then, I realized we would do this with him if he remained with us. I would begin now by writing a check to them and tell Oliver what we were doing. He and I would bring food, towels, litter and blankets to animal shelters. Oliver could become part of the rescue and healing to, perhaps, help with his healing. There would be Benadryl, of course. My thoughts moved back to Oliver’s present situation. Would that happen to Oliver? Would there be a time when Oliver would be taken from us too soon, still traumatized and not speaking? I wanted to give him freedom from his fears for Christmas. We would always be here for him as long as it was possible. I blocked my mind to all other thoughts. I knew that Crys had taken on the responsibility of helping at cat shelters. She and Jamie loved it. She even got her so busy husband to help out. They ed the rescue groups at pet stores and helped with adoptions. She would be thrilled to bring us into this world.

Chapter 51

I was standing behind my friend, Crystal, when I overheard a little boy talking to Oliver. We were on our way into the room to pick up our little ones. This little boy was at least a head taller and found Oliver fascinating. He was often found talking to Oliver. He stated, “My mom says you don’t even have a mom. What did you do with her? Want me to help you find her? Santa is coming and you need a mommy and daddy. You can’t even talk. How will Santa know what to bring you? Maybe I can tell Santa what you want. You want the same things I do! I will tell him when I see him. Don’t worry” The little boy veered off to greet his proud mother. Oliver stood so still. Tears welled in his blue blue eyes and threatened to roll down those soft round cheeks of his. He scurried into a corner of the room and slumped into it hugging his knees tightly. Was he missing his mother? What should I do? He seemed to understand what the other little boy had said. Had the interchange made him sad because he missed her or because he feared her possible return? What was this little boy thinking? He was so small and so vulnerable. He looked alone and lost. It reminded me of when we first met him. I could see how far he had come but also how easily he returned to all the despair and loss. He looked so alone and agonized. I would talk to his teacher about what was being said about and to Oliver. How had the mother known and why did she say something to her son? Perhaps the little boy had merely heard two adults talking. First, I would take Oliver home to his best comfort, his furry guardian. I would search for a solution tomorrow, in person. I left Crys hugging her excited Jamie. He was telling her about the songs they had learned. He couldn’t wait to sing them to his Dad and furry brother. I knew that singing was such an important part of life and especially at Christmas. Oliver would sometimes swing his head in time to a song. Our home always had

music on and both FM and Oliver seemed to enjoy it. It was always soothing and not loud. Neither of my little loves liked loud!! I reached Oliver’s corner and knelt beside him. I had often reached little nonspeakers with song, so; maybe we would focus more on that by involving him when I did my personal sing alongs. I called his name and watched him glance up at me. Tears filled my eyes and he watched me with widening eyes. Would he freeze, run or scream? I fought back those offending tears and gave him a genuine smile of welcome. I moved closer, put my arms out to him but did not advance too closely to this frightened, sad little boy. He had retreated in mind and body. He would be invited to make the next move. If he did not, I knew that I would have to invade his self-imposed solitude. Then it happened. He reached out to me. I moved to accept that request for comfort. I knelt beside him. He put those tiny arms around me. Our tears blended as I stood and lifted him. I kissed his tear stained face and whispered those words, the ones I had been afraid to say but, had so longed to say to him. “Oliver, I love you. I know I am not your real Mommy, but I am your now Mommy. I am your mommy now. I love you Little Man.” His arms got tighter and I felt him sigh. Was that resignation, relief, sadness or fatigue? His arms got even tighter and I couldn’t have put him down if I had tried. I didn’t want to ever put him down. I slipped his coat around him with one free hand as I held him close with the other. He was so small and thin for his age even with the weight gain he had achieved. His teacher’s assistant had seen this interaction and knew to let us go without interruption. I smiled my thank you to her. I slid out of the room, through the door and into the hall. Our escape was hidden from others in the happy bedlam PreK always added to the end of their day. I was relieved to see his teacher also watching us with real concern on her face. She knew this was not the time to discuss his day. She also noted his safe exit from the class. I found a quiet corner in the hall for us to both recover. Then I was able to dress

him for outside. I never put him down again until I had to buckle him in the car. He had stopped crying. His despair seemed to have worn him out as he slumped into the car seat. I buckled him up and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. I told him he was safe and loved. He closed his eyes.

Chapter 52

On the way home I swung into the Mall. We both needed the distraction of fun before we went home, even with FM waiting for Oliver. He seemed to have lost the sadness. He appeared to have shoved it aside with the bewilderment that had replaced it demonstrated on his little face. Santa Clause was at the mall and it was time for Oliver to see Santa. Had he ever seen Santa before? How would he react? Would it frighten or excite him? He was looking around with curiosity shining from his big blue eyes when I swung into the mall. I looked for fear and saw only a desire to figure out what was up now. Shouldn’t I have Les here in case it went poorly? I really should have FM here. We forged on. We parked and I loosened Little O from his entrapment in the car. I sang, “Santa Clause is coming to town” as we walked from the car to the mall. I also chattered to him about Santa until we saw the big man, himself. Oliver listened and I hoped. He looked and I hoped. I kept an eye on him as we moved ahead on this adventure. We both needed Santa, but only one of us could sit on that red knee. I hoped that my explanation and PreK experience had prepared him for this red, velvety and hairy vision of humanity. We had been told to introduce him to new things slowly. Did this constitute fast? I pursed my lips and pressed on! This was for both of us! Santa was up on his stage in a large decorated chair. A festively decorated and lit tree was behind his chair. A line was formed leading to the great man and we ed the end. I spoke to the mother and her little girl ahead of us. She asked Oliver if he had his list ready. He pressed into my side and buried his face in my long coat. The lady purred, “Oh, he is so shy! How sweet. My Lilly doesn’t have a shy bone in her body.” Lily was pulling on her mother and shrieking in excitement. She was not used to waiting in line and felt entitled to go right to the front of that

line. Oliver looked at her with puzzlement showing all over his dear little face. He knew how to wait and felt no entitlement of his own. We moved ahead. An elf came and gave us candy canes. Oliver accepted his with a tiny sweet smile. I really should have taken his mittens off first. Mental note: to pick up a new stick free pair before we leave. This mom stuff was not always easy. Someone should write a book for those of us who became a mom to an older child. I am sure that no one can think that far ahead. With that deliberation in mind we moved on. I was learning every day. I, again, thought of my learning curve. It needed a steeper upward movement but… I knew that I was learning. The other mothers had years of experience ahead of me, so I had to learn fast! Other little friends would benefit from this acquired knowledge. Maybe I could write that book as I experienced it! Sure, I have plenty of time as I will just do it in my free time! Yeah! Sure! Now it was time for Oliver to meet the jolly old elf (ELF???). An elf came and took his hand. When I saw her coming, I quickly swept off the sticky mittens. She gave me a grateful smile. See how I can learn! Oliver obediently let her lead him toward the big chair with only one look back at me. I smiled encouragement and waved him on. He had watched other children approach Santa and had also seen them successfully leave. This gave him courage. Santa reached for him and Oliver saw those big hands coming for him. He looked up at the large round bearded face. He pulled back and plopped on his little bottom. Tears came, but no sounds. He resisted ively as was his way. Santa looked at me and said, “Come on, Mom. Help your little one. You can both sit on my knee.” I was sure all the other mothers and fathers were jealous. I could just feel their envy. I WAS GOING TO SIT ON HIS KNEE! The great man himself had invited me! Oliver’s head snapped around. Concern was evident on that angelic face. He looked for “Mom” and saw only me. Santa had said the “mom” word as if she was right there. He looked relieved and reached for me. I wondered if I had interpreted that the right way. It was right for me but… Did he feel relief because he now knew he had a mom or was it relief because the person he knew as mom

was not there? It definitely was relief and maybe even a bit of gladness. I picked Oliver up and gratefully sat on Santa’s red knee with Oliver on my lap. That Santa could have been a werewolf and I would have sat on his lap. This was supposed to be part of our adventure. I just hoped I wouldn’t hurt Santa. I wondered if he carried disability insurance in case of knee damage. Santa smiled at Oliver and asked him what he wanted for Christmas. Oliver just stared. “Mom, what does this little boy want for Christmas? Santa asked me. It took a second for me to realize he was talking to me. Oliver looked up at me quizzically. That “mom” word again surprised both Oliver and me. He recovered faster than I did. For just a second, both Oliver and I were nonverbal. Santa raised his fluffy eyebrows as encouragement to me. He seemed to think he needed to offer us both encouragement. He did by offering a warm smile and nod. I recovered and replied, “Oliver doesn’t talk. I think he needs a real and permanent home with a real Christmas tree surrounded by the love of everyone in that home for what may well be his first Christmas.” Santa looked at me and then little man. I could see understanding taking over his gentle countenance. He took it all in with immediate and correct understanding, as it turned out. Santa then wiped away tears in his twinkling eyes and spoke with true conviction. “So, it shall be for this little boy! He will have the first of many very special Christmases! Merry Christmas, Oliver.” Wait, I didn’t telling this Santa Oliver’s name. How had he… He lowered his bearded face and kissed the top of Oliver’s silky head. The camera snapped. We had our first and best Christmas picture with Santa. I looked at Santa to thank him and swear he had an ethereal glow about him. I gave him a tremulous smile and I gripped my boy and staggered off the stand. I asked for ten copies. I couldn’t count right then but thought that would be a minimal amount. I paid and then looked back at Santa. He had a new little boy on his lap, but he was looking at Oliver and me. Then he winked and turned to the new chatty little one pulling on his beard. We required a special ending to our Santa trip. Ice-cream before dinner was warranted. I think this was going to be with any topping desired. It was just that

kind of event! Santa was met and a new fear was conquered and now would be a cherished memory. We had the evidence! We were late getting home. The house smelled unbelievable with Les’s latest culinary creation. I could hardly wait to hear what was on the menu! He was becoming quite the chef and even seemed to enjoy it! Since both Oliver and I didn’t like onions, Les was a magician with other spices. He had worked hard over this pasta delight. Even Oliver’s little pug nose ed interest as he lost his winter gear and ran to the kitchen with his new mittens still in place on his hands. Oliver loved his gaudy mittens with lights that flashed. Could those things even be washed? The sticky pair in the little bag would go straight to the laundry. Were we going to have a mitten disagreement here? He didn’t want to relinquish those treasured hand warmers. Oh yeah! I had ed to pick up new mittens. I bet you thought I would forget, dear reader. I was still learning but chalk up another score for me!! We went through dozens of mittens until we found this super gaudy but, perfect pair. This could be in a list of required items to secure, to be found in the back of the book. I think that is called an index, right? He tried to eat dinner with those flashing hand covers that night. I told him that would not be possible if he wanted to wear them to school. I only hoped the blinking wouldn’t keep him from sleeping. Bedtime was a battle I would not fight. At least it would be easier to keep track of him with those LED flashing warnings on his little hands. I could barely wait to tell Les about our day. I imagined the look on his face when I told him about our special Santa. He would also love the sticky mittens lesson. I could just imagine his laughter. He was aware of it because he couldn’t miss those new mittens. But there was more to tell! This story would be saved until someone’s bedtime.

Chapter 53

We had been amazed that FM had not been with Oliver when we checked on him later that night. The mystery lasted only a short time. We quickly found out why. We could hear her and rushed to the living room. She was in the front window on the ledge. She was in full alarm mode with her snarling and hissing easily heard. We were prepared to sight the problem and give chase after the culprit, when we raced to the window. Would it be raccoons or neighbors’ pets? Most of the local animals knew better than to enter our yard. Under the streetlight, we noted that the target was not a four-legged creature. Her long red hair caught the light and seemed to shimmer. She turned and ran. Had she been late going home and only stopped to catch her breath? Perhaps we had caught her looking at our house, maybe even into our house? Was this the missing mother? I gasped as this thought took hold and turned to seek reassurance from my husband. He was staring with mouth agape. It was obvious we were both thinking the same thing. We couldn’t catch this fleet young lady, and even if we could, then what? We silently agreed to hit the celebratory beverages from the top shelf above the stove. We had another long night ahead for us. We got the refreshments and I took out fresh paper to make a list. Les groaned but allowed the obligatory list. Tomorrow, we would call Roger, the social worker and ask for updates. It was going to be tough to sleep tonight. We talked about the feelings we had developed for Oliver and how we would handle all possible outcomes. Nonetheless, morning still came but it seemed to come earlier than normal. My list was short, call Roger. Morning was officially started. We ate oatmeal and drank special nonalcoholic apple cider with cinnamon. Oliver beamed. He loved the breakfast and even had a bit of applesauce on his oatmeal! Les and I tried to in his jovial spirit, but

the red-haired girl bothered us. Her appearance was unnerving. Who was she and why was she out so late at night, and in front of our house? She may be significant in our child’s life or just curious with no other agendas. I would call as soon as I got a break at work as our workdays started before Roger’s. We bundled up and prepared to leave as I saw FM headed to Oliver’s room. We really should call it their room. She seemed headed for some well deserved sleep as her shift was over. She was pulling the night shift lately.

Chapter 54

Les had headed out to do some shopping today as he had already given Oliver our main gift to him. The sled had been a winner and now he was back to thinking of a replacement. He knew it had to be special after the sled gift. His schedule was more flexible, especially during the winter months as most people did not want to move during frigid weather. He could do much of his work from his phone and computer at his office or home. This was my crazy busy time. Holiday activities at school heightened Surveillance. My extra job today was the phone call. Lunch 20 minutes (lunch hour to you normal folks) came and I hurried to place the call to Roger. I told him about the girl outside our home last night. He was concerned and said he would check on the latest progress in the search for a family member for Oliver and get back to us. By day’s end there had been no return call. After an early dinner, we took turns reading Christmas stories to Oliver. We were trying to make up for his first three years without Christmas. We had agreed on three a night. That was one for each year he had been alive. He hung in until the last word. We would get him caught up! Even FM was interested. Her personal favorite seemed to be Rudolph. Maybe it was an animal thing. She purred loudest during that reading. We snuggled, cuddled and sang to him. He had made great gains as he allowed us to do this without drawing away. In fact, he didn’t just allow it, he seemed to enjoy it. He just didn’t initiate or encourage it. This had become our before bed tradition. Then it was time to take him to his room. I have to it that the stories could be before or after he went to his bed. If he brought us his book choices, it was by the fireplace. On this night, FM stayed on a blanket by the fire. When bedtime came Oliver turned and put his arms out to her. She turned away. He showed surprise on that sweet face of his. She got up and moved away when he stepped toward her. I was equally surprised!

He sobbed out a little high-pitched sound that was more of a gasp and stepped toward her. She moved away at a faster pace. He repeated the sound to no avail. FM was refusing to acknowledge him. This was a mystery. She stayed in the room but continued to circumvent his effort to reach her. He made her chirping sound, as he had heard her talking to all of us with that distinctive sound. She stopped, turned and looked at him. He repeated her sound to my amazement but her obvious expectation. She turned, picked up her pace and went to him. He buried his face in her fur and I picked them both up to take to bed. They certainly were a handful. She had taught him her language and was using tough love to make it stick. She also taught me something. He was able to imitate. This was crucial information in the attempt to bring expressive language to his communication plan. FM, the wonder cat, was the best gift ever! I needed nothing else for Christmas. Nothing would compare. Oliver heard and could imitate. I would take even a few sounds which demonstrated that crucial task of imitation. It happened to be the cat’s communication. I would take it as a win. I sang to them (Oliver and FM) until Oliver fell asleep. Then I reflected, again, on what I would tell Les. Les had run to the store for emergency breakfast milk. We were all learning about family business, but no one complained. That was why some stores were open so late. Oliver’s first sound, other than one “uh oh” and those distressed sounds, had been an imitation of the sound his best friend and protector made. We should be able to use that new-found skill by first incorporating it into our vocabulary. We would practice with true dedication to task. FM was the best SLP yet, but I had hoped for human sounds. However, I would take it! Maybe the path we should take would be for me to teach FM some human words for her to teach Oliver. It was worth some thought. Would Oliver be thought to be bilingual? Were these sounds Russian or cat? Possibly both? Cats were capable of many human-like sounds. Our boy demonstrated understanding and use of cat communication. They both spoke cat and next we would try for human communication. Les came in late and was walking toward me as I came from Oliver’s room,

when he suddenly turned and took off running, so I pursued. He had heard or seen something that alarmed him. FM had slipped out and ahead of me as soon as Oliver slept. I turned the corner into the living room to see FM’s back arched and ears back, standing on the ledge at the window. We both ran to the window. We saw nothing to alarm us. We heard FM’s warning sounds which were low and lethal. We raced outside without coats to see footprints from the sidewalk to the window. The peeper was gone. Longer receding footprints showed that she/he had run away. I sank down into the snow. It had happened. Small boot prints must have been his mother’s…his biological mother’s. It had to be. We had a Peeping Thomasina and it was, most likely, Little Man’s mother. We returned to the warmth of the house and Les immediately grabbed his outside gear. He turned to look at me and then turned to the outside door as words failed us both. It was time to confront her if we could only catch her. I was to stay inside and watch over our special twosome. We knew what we had to do without any words. We were such a good team. We had been a great pair before Oliver, but the addition of this little gentleman had solidified and completed us. We had the motivation necessary to perfect our team strategy. The moon shone on the soft bed of snow and gave a pristine look to the environment. Les headed out into the winter magic to find what he could. I stood in the living room with FM and we watched for some kind of outcome. Maybe she would come back with Les and we could find out what her intentions were. Les returned with a great need for a night cap and no discoveries. I had gained an even greater respect for my caring husband. He never gave up and sustained a positive attitude. I portrayed the same for him. I got up several times that night to check on Oliver. FM had not been in their room any of the times I checked. I went to the living room to find her there on the ledge watching, guarding. Neither of us wanted treats but she allowed me to bury my face in her dense coat as I held her. She bumped her head into mine. Sometimes her understanding and instinct almost scared me.

Tonight, she refused a treat. I had never known her to refuse a treat. She was intent on her guard duty. What did she know? She was dearly needed. That ball of fluff meant so very much to us and I was pretty sure we meant that much to her.

Chapter 55

The next morning brought the call from Roger. He was reserved and sounded hesitant. When I heard his voice, I suspected the worst. He was only thinking that I would be disappointed because he could do nothing to help us with our quest. They were still looking. The search had broadened. Long red hairs had been found on Oliver’s clothing when he was left at the fire station. That seemed to further our thoughts about our mystery girl. The outside camera had also caught the red hair of the person who left Oliver alone and afraid at the fire station. They didn’t get a facial view. The girl who had appeared at our house also had long red hair. It was too much of a coincidence to be accepted as such. All signs pointed toward O’s mother coming to see or claim him, but not within accepted guidelines. The question was, “why?” She may plan on just taking him back as she had just left him and was too young, uninformed or scared to us or other resources. She appeared young and inexperienced enough to think she could just pick him up with no questions asked. Social Services had interviewed the firemen and one fireman had ed seeing a very pretty and very young girl stopping early the morning that someone left Oliver. She looked distressed and he had tried to talk to her. She wanted verification of the information she had heard about “Safe Havens”. She claimed she was researching this resource for a friend. She said her friend was unable to care for her child and may need this safe place for her child. The fireman started to ask her questions about the friend. At that point, she suddenly turned and ran off. The fireman followed her until he saw her jump into a beat-up vehicle with a North Dakota license. He had run after it and noted a North Dakota State University Bison bumper sticker. He said there was something about her that had alarmed him. She seemed depressed and was poorly dressed. She had seemed to want to keep

the car within sight. She frequently looked back at the car as they talked. Perhaps the child had been within that car. It just didn’t seem likely that the girl needing help with her baby was her friend. It was, very likely, that the person needing help with her child was this inquirer. It was possible that this girl may have a connection to the university in Fargo, North Dakota. The fireman had not gotten the license number. The bison on the sticker was easier to recognize. The football team, at North Dakota State University, is highly rated and well loved. Everyone in Fargo would have recognized that familiar logo. In any case, it tied her to North Dakota. The search was extended. Roger noted that if the girl we saw by our home was the biological mother it meant she may be ready to make a move. What that move would be was unknown and could be anything. She might have been building up courage to reclaim him or to get a chance to say goodbye. Her furtive behavior might mean that she planned on snatching him. In any case, things were moving ahead. There would be requirements for her to get Oliver back, but she had implemented the Safe Haven law and had not committed any unforgivable offense, yet. It looked like everyone was moving ahead with the belief that the red headed girl was the mother and not her friend. Recent behaviors by the mysterious girl with red hair also seemed to confirm that belief. The next month, leading to winter vacation, might be rough. FM, Les and I knew this was going to be a time of change and discovery with emphasis on recovery. Did little Oliver sense it, as well? FM seemed to be on alert and paced more than normal. She spent much time in the living room window and at the back patio door. When Oliver was free to play, she did take sentinel cat breaks to play with him. She always seemed alert to any sound she heard. After Oliver was in bed and asleep, she left his side and guarded. She paced from window to window relentlessly. She wouldn’t leave her post for play with her sock, cat nip or treats with Les or me. She must be sleeping when we were at school because she was always alert during the night whenever I checked on Oliver or her. She seemed to know something. I wish I understood Russian Feline. It was a language not taught, to my knowledge. Oliver seemed to have gained some ability in feline language as

he was being taught it by FM. I took out my laptop and tried to search for birth notices about the time of Oliver’s birth that might be indicative of his beginning of life. I found nothing conclusive. I tried it for Minnesota and North Dakota. I don’t know what I thought would be revealed. This was a time of waiting and developing greater patience. The search was continued by those with more ability in this area and they had not found what they needed. Was I looking for a miracle? That night I prayed for another miracle to add to the first two already given to us-Oliver and FM. We figured that the longer it took before she made a physical , the better for us. Even so, I wanted Oliver to find love and permanence in any way that was best for him. I had come slowly to that conclusion and was surprised by it when it finally hit me. I would not split the baby. Oliver’s best interest would be most important. The objective would be to find what was best for him and the sooner the better. This was the most unselfish thing I had ever done. I had arrived at this decision with a finality that produced both sadness and conviction. Les and I had talked about this and he reluctantly agreed with what might be the inevitable. If his parents appeared, would they want him back? Would they see the affection his foster family had for him and insist that he be moved to another foster home, if not back to them, to prevent him from getting attached to us? Would they initiate the process necessary to reclaim him? I assumed that if this was her choice it would happen soon. She appeared alone. There was no evidence of a father at this time. It had to be assumed that there may, very well, be one out there. Would Oliver be thrilled to see them? them? Want them? Were they together in this endeavor? It would have to be in his best interest, I kept repeating. I knew that now with a finality that scared and impressed me. I realized that I had Oliver’s best interest in the forefront. Reunion of biological families was state preferred. To our knowledge, she had not abused Oliver. There was no evidence. It would be tragic if he had to be wrenched from a loving home and returned to their neglectful home. He had been hungry and very thin as well as dressed in

clothes not warm enough for the season and in disrepair. I wanted what was best for him, but could we survive if what was thought to be best, wasn’t us? We determined that the answer was yes, if the parents got counseling, learned how to care for him and continued the counseling after he went to them. If we knew he was safe and loved, it would be possible to tolerate. Oliver would have to be watched closely by those who could help the family. His best interests would have to be foremost in any decision for his future. That must be what true and unselfish love really is. We had that. Yes, we had that. It would hurt but we had that!

Chapter 56

Monday came and responsibilities came with it. We were on the move. Stuffed cat and Oliver went into the car with me, after waving Les on his way. Oliver waved to FM in the window and even threw her a kiss. That was new. Had a Grandmom taught him that? Was he ing something taught to him by someone unknown to us? I tried hard to a time when he may have learned it from someone I knew. It was the kind of thing his Grandmothers would do. For some reason I had not seen this interaction. I warned all educational staff who touched Oliver, during his school day, about the potential involvement of someone unknown to them. She may show up again and maybe even the biological father would come. They needed to be prepared. They listened with concern evident in all they said and did. They were ready to do what they must to keep him safe. His teacher and her assistant assured me that unauthorized would not happen. The school was fenced in and entrance would have to be through the office. However, someone could talk to children through the fence surrounding the school. They were closely watched, but…He would become one of their focal points in all activities in or out of the classroom. He was the only one where jeopardy could be feasible. He had also worked his way into their hearts. He was such a gentle little soul with an unknown past. They would not allow visitation from anyone not on his school card which listed those allowed to see or take him. I knew that, but…I was reassured by them. I checked his school card to make sure there were no questionable notes. It displayed that only Les, the grandmoms and I could pick him up. It was clear and I reiterated its requirements with the office staff, as well. He was safe with all these caring people. They made this their battle. They took it on bravely and with great caring. I tried to bury myself in my work. The kids were excited about the snow fall and

Christmas coming. A drop off therapy kiddo (parents and caregivers may drop off children not enrolled in our school for therapy) cancelled and I took that time to run to the PreK room to look through the window. His teacher saw me and looked at me in a questioning eyebrow lift sort of way. I waved no and had to quickly turn away as tears threatened. They were watching. He was safe. I was ok. A week ed with no more distressing involvement with the unknown. Oliver now got up and ran for his coat, boots, cap and his snazzy mittens when I came to pick him up at school. He was anxious to get home. True, it was mostly to be reassured that FM was there, but I knew he was also happy to be home. Life was easier with Oliver helping in his transport. ive resistance is still resistance. I watched and heralded every little change he made. I also documented these changes to discuss with his care crew, as I called all the professionals involved in his existence. We told the school psychologist that we were calling our house his home as much as possible and then wondered if we should. It was both a vocabulary word and a realization for him. The school psychologist told us that we should let him see normal as a constant, so, he would know it even if it changed. I figured the word home was part of normal. I hung onto the psychologist’s statement with all my being. The weekend produced more pizza and age appropriate drinks. Following our favorite repast, Oliver made a move. He took Les’s hand and dragged him into our family room. I was thrilled by the touch he initiated with Les. Oliver deposited Les in his chair with a gentle push and spun on his little heels to take off racing to his room. He staggered back with three books and plopped them on Les’s lap. He was counting! Sure, it was only to three, so far! This meant that he was also aware of our routine. He had to approve of this book routine as he was carrying it out right now. This was done with his initiative. I needed to write that in my notes! Oliver than hefted FM and brought her to Les. Oliver picked her up under her front legs and more or less dragged her to Les who picked her up and placed her on his lap. She allowed it. Oliver next climbed up on the same lap and heaved a sigh of relief as he settled

back and draped our content and limp FM onto his lap. He looked up at a surprised and pleased Les as a signal that the reading should commence. The reading commenced! My boys and their cat were a picture of contentment. I saw that my job was to clean up the pizza mess. The men had dismissed me for this task. I am pretty sure that is what had just happened. As I moved to my undertaking, I reminisced about our first day and how difficult it had been to get this little starved boy to eat. These reflections gave me encouragement as well as subdued joy. Baby steps were a big part of our lives now. I looked down at FM’s dishes and sighed. Could angels come to earth in fur coats? Was this the new thing? No feathers, but fur? She was our salvation; the pet we didn’t want to complicate our lives was now an essential part of those same lives. I couldn’t imagine our home, her home, without her. As I slid into my work mode I reflected. Les’s mom was allergic to cats and mine was allergic to responsibility. My mother was finally free of beings requiring care and she was free to travel. She was so overdue for this freedom. Les and I had our jobs, friends, house and Oliver to care for and a cat…. a cat…. a cat who took care of us. How could this be? We had not chosen this but had been chosen for it…we had been chosen by our furry angel. We felt that our lifestyle change would mean that our lives would not include a lot of family but some, no doubt, would happen. Again, we were in for a surprise. They had not been given this responsibility but chose it for themselves. We soon found out that one should never “suppose”. As soon as you suppose or assume, there was someone or something to make changes. When dehydration (those darned tears) seemed a possibility, I grabbed a glass with a red beverage and collapsed in a chair. The boys and FM would enjoy each other until bedtime, and I didn’t want Oliver to see me with teary eyes. That sight had caused him great distress and I didn’t want a repeat performance. I had hoped that tears resolved would add understanding to his limited life, but I couldn’t be sure. He had a scary reaction to tears, for some reason. I heard Les call to me for the nighttime routine. We tucked him in with hugs. Les had already read his stories to him. I decided that we would tell him one more made up story featuring a boy and his cat.

A super boy named Oliver who could talk and fly and save the world was one of the stars. At his side flew super cat FM who could also talk-yup-talk. His eyes closed and we stood to tip toe out. FM verified and approved this story with her chirp and plllrrrrt sounds.

Chapter 57

Our super pet literally flew off the bed and raced down the hall. Les was up and after her with almost equal speed. To my distress, a little boy ed in the race. FM came charging back to us and then back to the door growling the entire time. She did not jump onto the window ledge in her normal “invaders beware” position but stood with front paws on the door looking steadily from Les to me. She was signaling that the intruder was on the other side of this door. I got to the door first, as Les slowed and scooped little man into his protective arms. I grabbed our fur angel into my restraining arms. Since there were no spiders in sight, I felt brave and protective. I wrenched open the door while tightly gripping our defender. She seemed ready to pursue something. I braced to prevent her lunge if it happened. She was intent upon whatever was on the other side of that door. A small cardboard box with flaps folded in to securely close the box, sat innocently on the top of the landing. Those small boot imprints showed a trip to and from the door. The stride increased into running length in the exit mode. Someone had just delivered a box to us. I wondered if she had given a soft tap on the door that had alerted our fur avenger. We certainly heard nothing. I stepped out and looked from side to side. I saw no fleeing silhouette. The hardpacked sidewalk did not reveal the direction taken by our unknown visitor. We had another mystery. “Santa?” questioned Les. Oliver wriggled in anticipation. He ed Santa. I dragged the box into the foyer and onto a rug without letting go of our fur angel. I sank to the rug and released FM from her confinement. She had relaxed but stared at the box with her tail whipping from side to side. I opened the box to find a beat up and worn teddy bear. I looked at Oliver. He held his hands out to receive the little bear. I handed it to him, and he held it close while he studied it and then flung it far and began to sob. What in the world did that mean? FM spun over to the bear and dragged it into the closet. She came out of the closet chuffing. Oliver reached for his safety net

and she went to him without pause. They cuddled and the sobs subsided. I turned back to the box as Les consoled Oliver and stroked FM. He had shown clear signs of recognition and desire, to be rapidly replaced with fear and rejection. I had to keep looking at the box’s contents to seek an answer. As much as I wanted to remove Oliver from this happening, I needed to observe his continued reaction. I reached into the box again and pulled out a dirty worn blue blanket. I looked at our boy. Les sat on the floor and cradled Oliver. Oliver turned his face into Les’s chest and refused to look as I pulled out a brown envelope with papers within it. Les stood and carried Oliver back to bed. We had seen enough of Oliver’s reaction to this “gift”. Les was gone for twenty minutes. I sat on the floor quietly crying and holding the envelope. FM went from me to Oliver’s bedroom and back. The empathy this fur angel offered was remarkable. I found holding her close and dropping my tears into her fur therapeutic. She was tolerant. I held her for a few minutes and then returned to our task. Further exploration of the box revealed a little jacket and a few clothes. Was this his entire universe, his prior world? Did she bring this to us to end the relationship with him or let us know he had possessions and parents? Why now? What had changed for his mother? Where had she been and why was she back now? Les helped me get up after he took the box away from me and set it aside. He brought me into the family room and led me to our couch. He left to come back with two glasses of red wine. We opened that final piece of Oliver’s past. The envelope held Oliver’s birth certificate. He had been born at 6:00 p.m. on October 31st three years ago in Fargo, North Dakota. His parents’ names were Angela Marie Helms and Adam Theodore Pederson. There was an address for them but not much other information. Our little man was named Oliver Adam Helms. There were only a few baby pictures of Oliver. He was wrapped in the blue blanket we had found in the box. It appeared to be an infant hospital blanket. The background in the pictures appeared to be the inside of a car. We called and left a message for Roger to call us in the morning. I left a message with the school to cancel my case load for the next day. We would determine in

the morning if Oliver could go to school. I took the box and hid it in a closet in the guest room with the clothes, blanket and teddy bear enclosed. He had shown rejection of these items. We hoped we would eventually find out why, but, for now, we would accept his feelings and put them out of his sight.

Chapter 58

The next morning Oliver seemed apprehensive and kept a close eye on all three of us. He would not allow FM out of his sight. However, he allowed Les to dress and bundle him up for his day at school. Les updated the teacher as much as necessary. I called the school counselor and alerted her to Oliver’s needs. She would check on him throughout the day to see if I should come in to take him home. We wanted everything to be as close to our normal as possible. I would stay home and wait. The counselor advised us to keep this day as close to his routine as possible for this sensitive little man. Then I settled in with my coffee for the phone call from Roger. I would take this day to settle my feelings and gain control of our world such as it was. Roger didn’t call. He came over to collect the papers instead. I had copied all of them for our records. He was excited. This could be the break we had hoped for, but it also could be the beginning of a long drawn out custody battle. The future for Oliver was moving toward a determination. His mother knew where we lived, and that Oliver was in our house. She was beginning to be invasive. Would she grab him as she was not openly interacting? Would she vanish again with him? Roger went over all the box contents and packed them up to take with him. Maybe there would be something there to help find her present location now that we had evidence of name and place of birth. I told him I wanted to know everything about the process, and he assured me that he would let me know when they had anything concrete. The search for Oliver’s parents would be intensified immediately. The names and location of birth would be crucial in this quest. Silence would mean that they were working on procuring information. We would be notified as soon as facts and conclusions were found. I took this to mean that they needed us to wait for now. They would inform us as things happened and we would be affected.

As he was leaving, he turned and gave me the first of many Roger hugs with more to follow. The hunt was on again but this time with genuine clues. There seemed to be some finality. FM reflected this by her constant motion. Roger reached to pet her, and she stopped long enough to give her approval of him by the pat she allowed him to deliver. He commented on her beauty and her intense coat. That interaction actually made me feel even closer to him. FM had approved of him. Oh yeah, he had approved of her, as well. I secretly thanked her for not growling or hissing at him.

Chapter 59

The phone rang. It was Oliver’s teacher. The kids had been out playing in the fenced in play area. A young woman had come to the fence and called to Oliver. This girl had long red hair and looked very young. She clung to the chain link as she called to Oliver. She was smiling, yet appeared to be crying. The teacher had hesitated for just a second as she made sure the girl’s attention was on Oliver and that she was not a mother who had just stopped by to wave at her little one. All parents knew the natural process was to go to the office and sign in. Even so, some just stopped by on their way to an errand and waved. Oliver had turned and started toward the fence almost in a trance. It was his ive obedient behavior. He did not run. He did not smile. He made no overt sign of pleasure at this intervention in his day. The teacher and her assistant had called him back and approached the visitor. She had turned to run. She was gone before they could call the school’s guardian. All schools now have guardians to protect the school children and staff. The shootings in schools have made this mandated. They ran to Oliver and led him away while speaking calmly to him. Oliver appeared dazed. Jamie went to him, put an arm around him and led him to the slide. That child was such a special boy. I used to think of him as a wild child. My Jamester was also my hero. I couldn’t wait to tell his mom. PreK had a shorter than normal play time outside. The teacher and her assistant were uncomfortable about the unknown visitor and wanted Oliver safely locked inside the classroom as well as the other little ones in their care. The teacher said that the girl was very young, not much more than a teenager and had long red hair with crystal green eyes that were large in obvious fear or apprehension. She looked stressed and both happy and sad. They had observed this as they drew near the fence to retrieve Oliver. This is when she quickly vanished.

I was out the door on my way to pick Oliver up and take him home. My hands on the steering wheel were shaking, so I called Les and he set off on the mission to bring Oliver home. He insisted I stay home and have some appropriate beverages ready. He wanted me to calm down before he brought Oliver into our home. He recalled what had happened the last time I had become distressed in front of Oliver. I started breathing exercises and began to gain control of myself. I knew this was crucial at this time. I sat in my rocker and immediately felt the weight of our angel in my lap. She purred and butted her head into me. I got the message. What rights did we have? What were her rights? I was so confused. As soon as I felt in control, I called Roger. He answered the phone which was a rare occasion with his workload. He assured me that the wayward mother had much to answer for before any interaction with Oliver would be allowed. He encouraged me and asked me to continue to be patient. He offered to come out to talk but I assured him we were all fine. I didn’t tell him that we had our own in-house fur therapist. My mother had raised her German children to be tough and that crying only delayed solutions. I ed her lessons and worked on control. I had never cared about anything so much before. I think that the addition of potential loss or terrific gain amplified this feeling for me. It was a modification of the legendary approach avoidance theory. It was a loss gain theory for sure. I had pledged that this would not happen, and it had. We couldn’t do this again. I didn’t trust myself. I wanted to grab Oliver and run. How did his mother feel? Why and how had she given him up only to appear a few months later to reclaim him? Or had she just wanted to see him? Touch him? Confuse and hurt him? Relieve her need of a relationship at his expense? I don’t know how long I sat reflecting before I heard a car pull in. The door opened and I felt myself rise into a defensive pose. Les rushed in with Oliver in his arms and hugged us in one group hug. I thought “So much for not displaying confusing emotions to our little one.” I had the foresight to hold FM and press her into Oliver’s hands. We survived this greeting. We lowered both dear little ones to the floor. FM ran to the big fuzzy rug in the family room with Oliver in pursuit. She curled up on the rug and he curled around her. They took solace in each other’s company. I think they were both

purring.

Chapter 60

Yup. Pizza night. We held him and read nonstop. FM sat in defensive position on her window ledge. That night we decided to camp in his room. We set up tents and dragged FM’s bed into his tent and curled up with both of them. Oliver loved it and decided he would sleep in the tent next to his FM as planned. As the boys slept, FM and I walked around the house. I made sure the locks were all set, and she patrolled from window to window. Then we went into the kitchen and found our treats. I finally went to sleep and FM patrolled on. I felt her climb on me for petting just before the alarm went off. Roger called and explained that this mother should be smarter than kidnapping the boy who was in state protection. That would be very bad for her case. What if she didn’t care or understand? He convinced me that we should relax and not give her cause to panic. We did not want to startle her into taking action that was not good for any of us. All should remain as normal as before. How could it? It had to...just had to keep it together. My little family was threatened by Oliver’s own mother. I needed to straighten out my thoughts and beliefs. I could do this! We could do this. We did our best and it seemed to relax our little guy. Christmas was coming. We needed a tree and decorations. We would shop as a family. This tree would replace our artificial one which would go outside for more décor out there. It would be fun to teach him this tradition which was probably new to him, but very old. It may be one more normal happening for Oliver to take on with him in whatever lay ahead. FM kept vigil. She sensed the tension and went from one of us to the other. She willingly played sock with Oliver. Once he ran after the sock when she didn’t immediately pursue it and carried it in his mouth back to her. He looked up at me and giggled. FM licked his nose in appreciation and praise. Her kitten was, indeed, learning. Treats all around! Chocolate and Chicken, the major C food group.

Les, Oliver and I lived each day that week like it might be our last one together. Oliver got spoiled beyond belief. After making that statement, I realized we had been treating him like that ever since we had picked him up! That was good because it was a constant he needed. It was also something we loved doing for him, FM and us. The tree hunt was a blast! We went to the church tree center. Oliver was led to two good possibilities. We tried to get him to choose one of them, but he scampered right by and hugged a huge lopsided giant. We took it home and Les took it into the garage along with a yardstick. I could hear the saw intervention for our deformed tree. When Les brought it in, he exposed a hopeful and smiling expression on his handsome face. That monster tree was perfect. I put on Christmas songs and Les and I sang as best we could. The next time I looked at Oliver he had on earmuffs and a big smile. We lowered our volume and the muffs vanished but not before we snapped a picture. One more memory captured! After dinner, we turned on the Christmas lights. Oliver gasped and we turned to him with concern. His big blues reflected the lights and his little face was in rapt awe. Snap. Always keep the camera ready. This had to be his first tree and he was entranced with it. One new custom accepted! One new memory captured forever. We took more pictures of him in that moment but included his pal. When bedtime came, he got his blanket and pillow and insisted the stories take place there, in front of his tree. When he fell asleep, we moved him to his room with a vow to get a little tree as a night light for him in his own room.

Chapter 61

The next day we gathered after school for his IEP (Individual Education Plan) update meeting. The Grandmoms had picked up Oliver and taken him home so we could have the meeting without him. This would have been too confusing for him and we would go over the results with the grands later. When he started school, he had not known the alphabet or what it represented. Now he was able to point to the letters correctly and write his name with great definition. His handwriting was incredible. We were told that Oliver drew beautiful above age level pictures for his teachers. He loved the praise his teachers and classmates heaped on him. The teachers said that life seemed to be opening a whole world for him. The low intelligence quotient suspected upon his start at school was dropped. Everyone was concerned about his inability to speak. His articulators (oral mechanism) were fully functional. This was a case of situational reaction also known as Selective or Elective Mutism. The diagnosis involved children who would speak at home or where they felt safe but not in any other or limited locations. He didn’t speak anywhere and nothing other than the cat language he and FM shared. We were acknowledging the existence of this diagnosis even though we had not heard him speak in any environment. It was related to anxiety, after all, and our boy had a bucket load of that. He had no safe place to speak in his world. Although, we felt that he was rapidly gaining one. The VE teacher expressed her belief that her services were not needed. No one considered any need for Occupational Therapy or Physical Therapy. His amended IEP only involved the continued interaction with the school psychologist, guidance counselor and Speech and Language Pathologist. The ASD label was discussed last He had many of the signs but some of them were being changed or even lost. This diagnosis would also remain as a possibility until it could be determined to be accurate or dismissed.

Les and I had taken turns calling home to make sure all was well. We drove home with mint chocolate chip ice cream and Kitty Temptations for the celebration. We unlocked the front door and opened the door to hear and see that our grandmom guests were singing Christmas songs. Tabletop evidence showed us that we were too late with our celebration contributions. The two grandmoms were well on their way into their own celebration. We put our contributions aside and ed in. There was apple cider, hot chocolate and gingerbread men for all! I could tell that they had decorated the gingerbread themselves. There was even a variety of kitty snacks in evidence. The celebration continued to stories read and told by the grandmoms while Les and I settled down with wassail brought for our reward. It was near bedtime, but Oliver would not settle for that. He wanted to spend more time with them, so they decided to take the celebration elsewhere and allow the little man to settle into his nighttime routine. I realized that our Oliver had brought them closer and created friends. As they left, they offered special words in unison, “By Ollie, Grams love you!” I thought, yet again, “What have we done?” Ollie stood at the door waving and throwing kisses. Hmmm. He had only thrown kisses at FM before, so this was a new and cute beyond words communication! The grandmoms continued on their way with further celebrations together being planned. Christmas would be here in three more weeks. Would we still have Oliver? Could we keep him until it was time for the great decision? The decision would grant custodial rights in some form, but to whom? We did not have any kind of timeline, so we fully expected to have our guy until sometime after Christmas. The tree glinted and sparkled in a myriad of colors. I noticed that early deliveries of Santa’s gifts were under the tree. The Grandmoms had hit again. One of the gifts was wrapped in green and red foil and not the Santa and Reindeer print like the others. I went to look and saw that it was flat and had our names on it. The tag said to not open before two grandmoms, to be disclosed, declared the moment. What did that mean? Just who could these two grandmas be? It felt good to chuckle. We were pretty sure we would be able to identify those mysterious grandmoms.

I tucked it back under the tree and returned to Les to discuss what we should do about Christmas, to find him wrapping gifts in the family room. He saw me start to question the gifts when he added, “I know. We don’t know if we will have him, but these gifts are his wherever he may be. He will have a Christmas, as he now knows it, wherever he is. I promised that to him and us when we took him in and now it means even more. We know him and he knows us and now he knows Christmas.” Our tears intermingled as we held each other. What had we done?

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Two weeks before Christmas and we were in full mode for beginning our day. The boys were eating breakfast and FM was enjoying her new raw diet in her snowflake bowl on the Christmas mat that Oliver had picked for her. It had a snowman on it with Rudolph peeking around the round belly of the snowman. Had Oliver picked it because both he and FM had arrived in a flurry of the cold wet stuff? I may over think at times, and this may just be such an event. Oliver’s attraction was probably the bright happy colors and I am pretty sure FM favored the full bowl concept. This was another example of me over thinking again! Not everything that occurred had a reason. Probably…maybe… This was another special day but weren’t they all? We were all going to see the PreK Christmas program. They were singing courtesy of the hard work of the teachers, assistants and music teacher. Oliver was so excited that he could hardly stand it. He was hopping from foot to foot and holding his fancy mittens. I had never seen him so excited to be leaving before. The grandmoms had gone early and found seats in the front row armed with their cameras and phones. They had been collecting photos and were planning a crafting day to put them in order for the year’s end. The album would be for us to share or his to go with him. Guess which I hoped for and which one the grandmoms would not, could not believe in. We delivered ourselves to the gala and Oliver into the arms of his teacher. Our mothers were in the front row with two seats saved between them. They had been very successful in this venture as we had to arrive early to deliver our performer for a last minute line up and practice. Soon we were all settled and ready for the event to begin. I couldn’t imagine the role Oliver would take as he didn’t sing any more than he talked. Maybe he would be a tree or… The school had a little stage in the lunch/activity room. The piano started the first tune as the little ones marched out. Oliver was one of the smallest, so we

expected him to be in the front. As the last child took her place we were devastated. Oliver must have decided to not perform. He was not in the lineup at all. I scanned the scenery for a moving tree, maybe a quaking tree! I started to rise when his teacher stepped off the stage and motioned for me to sit. Obviously, she had this handled, but I ached to hold our boy. He was probably sad and devastated somewhere behind that curtain. I did trust his teacher, but I really wanted to go to him and try to comfort him. The piano started the first song again and the children began a lively rendition of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer”. My husband and the Grandmoms looked at me for direction. They wanted me to make the first move for a little boy’s salvation. The teachers had told me they had a surprise for us. Maybe someone was holding him backstage so he could watch from that safety. They would carry him out for the big ending. It would be a gentle introduction to the audience for him. I raised my hands in resignation and turned to gaze at the stage. Just then a tiny Rudolph danced onto the stage and stopped center stage. His blonde hair flew like a golden halo. His antlers bobbed wildly while the red nose flashed. He signed and pantomimed the song with his class ing in. He was so gleeful and animated that I almost thought he would begin to sing. I could see his teacher off stage in the same fun dance routine portrayed by Oliver. He frequently looked over at her and then danced more gaily. He was having the time of his life. We were, too!! The rest of his class sang and danced on the stage as our boy put on the liveliest performance ever displayed by a three-year-old. No words came from his little mouth, but every tooth shone in the biggest smile ever seen. He displayed this joyful smile throughout the performance. At the end he threw his arms up and out and the little backup performers did the same. The entire front row was in tears and on their feet with wild applause heard by all. Everyone knew our little man and a part of this earth-shaking event affected all in attendance. Suddenly, Oliver turned and ran to the front of the stage. He threw himself into a mighty leap as he left the stage. Les was right there and caught our flying

Rudolph angel. Little arms wrapped tightly around Les’s neck. Then, Oliver repositioned himself and threw kisses to his Grandmoms and me. This was a moment I had not planned for or expected. We were all in disbelief. When I got my turn to hold him, I held him close and brushed down the flying blonde hair. His smile was angelic. I think mine cracked my entire face as it couldn’t be bigger. Plastic surgery for repair may be needed. The entire house continued to stand and applaud. His teacher came off stage and assured me that the last maneuver had not been part of the venue and carried Oliver back on stage to take front row center and do the hand motions with his class as they continued to sing as soon as the audience found their seats. At the end of the last song the entire audience, led by the front row, stood yet again to applaud once more and the little ones took their bows. This time the exodus was performed safely with Oliver’s tiny hand securely held by his teacher. She wasn’t going to let loose of that hand to risk another wild exit. As we stood and started to move to the next room for treats, I heard the back door open and close. It was done quietly but I did not miss it and neither did Les. Who would leave after such a performance and before the goodie reward? We thought we knew. She had to have seen our little Oliver’s gleeful performance. How had it affected her? We gathered up our little crew with Oliver secure in the arms of Les. We paraded to the car and more rewards to come. As we walked, I scanned the area to the car. I saw nothing and heard nothing, but I was attentive to every sound and movement. I wanted to know if she was there watching. I found myself aching for her. I was surprised at this feeling of remorse and loss for her. We stopped for, yes, pizza. Oliver kept pulling us toward the door and back to the car when we entered, so, we knew to order it to go. He had been away from his guardian long enough! When we arrived home, Oliver was wildly throwing kisses to the window. Yup! As expected, FM sat in the window. Her mouth was opening and closing so we knew she was trilling us into the house. Les leaped out of the car and raced to the door leaving us ladies to our own exit routine. The traditional race was on. I tried to just when this had begun. FM

leaped from the window. The door was slung open by Les and the beast holding the title of being first to reach the door was dancing in circles on her back feet. She threw herself into the arms of little Oliver who had immediately put out his arms to receive his angel. Les held both wiggling beings as he scooped them up in his arms. Such love was so easily and earnestly displayed. He put them both down and the race continued to the next lap, into the kitchen. Grandmoms and I followed holding the massive pizza still, miraculously, warm! The ladies grabbed plates and piles of paper napkins as we were supervised by the wild threesome panting in the door. Les, Oliver and FM had finished the race back through the house and come for the rewards! I announced that Les could finish the preparations as the ladies attended to the next item on the agenda. The tree first, and then, all the lights on the bushes, the two rows of Snow Village houses and countless window candles were set into cheery welcoming for all who could see them. I hung back to make sure all lights had lit. I glimpsed an elusive figure slip out of sight. Had she been waiting in the dark; waiting for us to get home? Why hadn’t she approached us? How long would this cat and mouse game go on? Perhaps I was too leery as it may have been anyone coming home. The ruckus from the kitchen meant the celebrating had begun. Oliver had a slice of pizza as well as everyone else. One piece sat on a plate for me. The chair next to Oliver appeared to be empty until I advanced on it and saw tomato coated little fingers offering small pieces of cheese to the true occupant. The occupant of the chair daintily accepted the tidbits. Everyone slid down to make room for me. FM now preferred to be hand fed rather than eating out of her dish. She looked up at me when I looked over to her and I swear she was smiling. I smiled, too. Oh, how we all loved that angel cat! I realized I loved her beyond normal reason. I hadn’t realized the depth of feeling one could have for an animal. This was my year of new thoughts, understandings and beginnings.

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Days flew by with no more sightings of the mysterious person. There had been several times when our guard cat had run growling to the front window for no observable reason or because the front light beamed on. This light was set to go on when anyone came near the house. We were beginning to become immune to these occurrences. This proved to be our undoing. Two weeks before Christmas and all was seemingly normal for us. The key word here is seemingly. We got a phone call from Roger Blake. The search for Oliver’s parents was ongoing. They had found that six months ago the couple had been together, apparently, living in a car with their son. Angela had been working in a restaurant in Fargo and there was no evidence of Adam working anywhere. The little boy and his dad were hanging out somewhere. Angela had lost her job and picked up her check. The restaurant tried to her to settle some paperwork but their correspondences had been returned. The address she had given to them was an empty lot. Her phone number had to have been a burner as it had been discontinued. The next step in this saga would take time and more research. The note that had come with Oliver had stated that they needed help feeding and housing Oliver but had not relinquished custody. All attempts were being made to find them. The next step in this game was happening as we waited and worried. The parents of the young couple had been found. The father, Adam’s parents were more forth coming in the story. Adam had been 15 when he found out he was going to be a father. He was terrified. Although he was a child himself, he was committed to Angela and the little one coming their way. He had the romantic dreams that many 15-year olds hold with little logic to back it up. Adam’s father stated that the couple had vanished six months into the pregnancy when they were told that they had to quit school and find housing and jobs.

There were many angry words from the parents who were experiencing trouble financing their other three children and their lives. They regretted their stern and unaccepting stance but were not willing or able to change the outcome. Their other children were approaching ages of independence and had more needs to be met to allow them to go on to school and reliable jobs. They could not afford a new baby. They were only meeting immediate needs until they could be dependent free. Their focus had to be on their own children and not a grandchild. Adam had begged them to take in his little family and he would work to help the entire group. His father knew that a fifteen-year-old boy could not handle such a responsibility and the ramifications of that happening when they were all sandwiched into their small home were unacceptable. Adam vanished that night to not be heard from again. Adam had been an up and coming athlete and his grades were all indicative of good collegiate potential. All that potential and so little had changed Adam’s life. These parents blamed Angela. He had been their hope. Three more prospects listened with big and teary blue eyes. They were now in line to meet parental expectations. Authorities noted that the paternal side had the blonde hair and big blue eyes. The family was German and Norwegian with a touch of Swedish. Medical records for this family revealed no problems and no reason for Oliver to be silent. Adam’s mother had known that they had stayed in a cheap motel when they were both working. They traded baby sitting with another young couple when possible. This young couple had run into Angela’s mother and revealed that they had shared housing in a motel. This was all the information Adam’s family had heard about the young family of three. Adam had been an athletic boy and college scholarships had been very possible. Their decision to become their own family had ended that potential. His death ended everything else. Adam and Angela were both just nineteen when the little family’s world fell apart. Adam had no exceptional talent or experience and job potential had been minimal. The search for him led to the information that he had worked for a

construction company. When winter hit hard, unnecessary people were laid off. Construction in the winter was slow. Adam had been first in line to be fired. That had been validated by finding the company and hearing of his job loss. This was repeated every year they existed as a family. Adam had been killed about a week before Oliver had been taken to the Firehouse. Adam had been driving the car with no tread on the tires and not been able to negotiate a turn. They lost Adam and their home on wheels. Angela and Oliver had not been with him. There was no evidence about where they waited for Adam and how they found out about the accident. His parents showed a death certificate. They had been notified of the accident and were unable to even say goodbye to their abandoned and desperate son. The parents had heard news of the crash on their TV and called to inquire to find out it was indeed their son. His parents paid for the cremation. Adam was home again. He sat in an urn on a table. His picture sat next to it. Adam’s parents, the Pedersons, agreed to sign away any rights they had to their grandson. They were stricken and wanted to go on with their lives as they were. Guilt seemed to have replaced any love they may have had for their little grandson. He would be a constant reminder of what had gone so very wrong. They stated that they didn’t even want to meet him. They seemed to blame Angela and this tiny child for ending the potential their son had shown.

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Angela’s parents were next in line. They had not known what had happened to the little family. The big confrontation about the forthcoming baby had ended with Angela running away. Angela’s parents wanted her to give up the baby and go to college. They had made it clear that any alternative direction from their wishes would put her on her own. She was angry and hurt when she left to find Adam. That was the last Angela and her family had. She was a baby having a baby and all alone except for her 15-year-old boyfriend. They had not been informed about Adam’s death and assumed the little family was still off on their own. Adam’s family hid knowledge of Adam’s death from Angela’s parents as they were also angry with them. Angela’s parents assumed that the two fifteen-year olds would find their way to live with Adam’s family. Her parents regretted their confrontation but were working hard to hit retirement and have their daughter be able to go to college if she ever returned. She could still return to them and no one had to know about this baby of hers, the child with no name. They told the investigators who found them that they would help her if she could be found but were firm in their statement about the baby. They wanted no one to know about the child. She could return, but not the baby. She was too young to handle such a responsibility and they had worked too hard to reach their eventual retirement and a carefree life to make the changes needed to Angela and this child of hers. They were there to help her under their . They asked what they could sign to take any responsibility away from them. They didn’t want her to reenter their lives with Adam’s child They continually referred to Oliver as the child rather than by his name. They asked to not be told his name. They relinquished their rights with obvious relief. They wanted the authorities to tell Angela that she could return to them without the child.

They would care for her and help her go to college. Their freedom from work was within their grasp. Their wishes were to put Angela in a college setting, sell their home and begin to travel when retirement was finally possible. They had not reached the financial freedom they needed yet, but saw it in sight. Their nationality discussion and health history were dismissed by Angela’s father when he stated that he was European and healthy. He could see no reason to make any more statements. Angela’s mother had flaming red hair and added that she was mostly Irish. She also stated that her side of the family was healthy, but still mostly resided in Ireland. She had maintained no with them. Her father’s eyes flashed as he responded, “My daughter, Angela, needs limitations. She has no child as far as we know or care to know. What difference does it make what genes of mine she carries? We will help her go to college but prefer she be in the dorms.” Again, no medical problems were related or evident when questioned about anything that could affect the “child”. The mystery of Oliver’s silence continued. They had been told that they could not have children, so they named her Angela denoting a special gift. They expected angelic behavior from her and reacted with intense anger and disappointment when they found out that Angela had her own outlook on life. She had always been a strong-willed child. Her school records displayed gifted classes. She was especially gifted in art and music. She had lived up to their expectations until a young classmate by the name of Adam entered her life. They couldn’t get beyond this betrayal by her. They hated Adam and blamed him for the loss of their daughter. They did not want his son in their home or lives. Hopes and visions had been crushed by youthful decisions and behaviors. Angela and Adam had been loved and valued. Then they had been shut off from all that, including dreams to fulfill promising futures. Fear and anger had driven these two fifteen-year olds out on their own. Neither parent searched for them, assuming they would come to their senses and return

without the child. Excuses had been given to friends, family and school. A child could not appear out of nowhere now, especially Adam’s child. Angela’s parents could not handle it or slowdown in their quest for their own dreams. When Angela and Adam did not return or even share the news of little Oliver, they had been written off by both sets of parents/grandparents. This threesome was out on their own with no resources. They were just fifteen. The hope of loving grandparents had been ended like a slamming door. Oliver did not exist for his grandparents. They were moving on with their lives with no desire to see this small boy. Oliver was safe and loved. His foster parents and all who met the little heart stealing magician were mesmerized by him. He was finally safe and gaining trust in his environment. His life was no longer encapsulated in dirty motels, cars and service station bathrooms. Angela seemed to think she could take her time reentering the life of her son. Yet, if she didn’t want to continue life with the complication of her son…. let us get to some decisions! Where was Angela and how was she surviving? Could she be found? Was she in danger? Would she appear to reclaim her son? She would be helped by the state to make sure that Oliver was safe if she returned for him. How was this nineteen-year-old surviving with little ? She had taken the best step available to her when she brought her son to safety. She probably wasn’t aware of what other helps were available to her and her son. That spoke volumes for her. But, just what did those volumes reveal? She had been running to keep her son and her Adam with her. The baby and Adam had been important to her at one time. How was she handling the loss of the boy she loved, and the father of her little son? Was it depression and hopelessness that had driven her to that fire station? She had lost her job and had no funds to sustain her. She must have borrowed the car from a friend or acquaintance. I could speculate forever but time would tell.

All the updated information was relayed to us. We didn’t know whether to feel relieved that there was only one piece of the puzzle to complete in our quest to adopt this little man or sad for the love he had missed for the first three years of his life. What mental wounds and scars had been produced for Oliver? We felt an over whelming sadness and loss for this little silent boy. What had happened to him? We asked many questions about the grandparents. All the answers demonstrated no need or desire to have . In fact, Oliver’s best interest would be served with no . He didn’t need to face rejection. We would make sure he had counseling throughout his life…if he was still ours to raise.

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Two weeks before Christmas and more news was delivered to our amazed ears by our parents. Both mothers had listed and sold their homes. They had kept it a secret from us to spring on us as a surprise. They did not want to burden us with all the work involved with sales and moving until they were further along in the process. They were certainly right. We were surprised. Or at least, I was. They appeared on our doorstep together. I had noticed their friendship entering more of a sister phase which was a relief. Louise started the conversation over a glass of the champagne that came with them. “We don’t want to push, but, we do not like living alone. Thanks to Oliver, we have come to know and appreciate each other. We have been working with Les and other realtors to seek new homes and sell ours. You knew we had been thinking of Florida. We plan to travel there together through winters as newly discovered sisters. We will spend two to three months there in the warmth. Maybe more if family wants to visit us there. Hint! Hint!” My mom reported. Her eyes showed pleading for understanding and the acceptance of the excitement of new beginnings. “Well, we found wonderful adjourning townhomes just a mile from here. They close in one week. Les has been handling this for us but we swore him to secrecy. He also became excited about telling you and pressed us to reveal our news as soon as possible. Our own homes close within a month after Christmas. It was so perfect; we knew it was meant to be. We can be the grandmoms that Oliver deserves.” Louise added with great vehemence. They sat looking at us with apprehension and excitement all rolled into one. I burst into tears and Les only stared at me. “I responded, but we don’t know what will happen to us with Oliver. His mother is still out there somewhere, and social services are all about reing biological families.” Les kept staring. I could see he was worried about my acceptance of his part in this life change for two special ladies. I continued, “We may not have Oliver if his mother comes forward and is approved for his return to her.”

Guilt overwhelmed me. Had they done all of this to get closer to a little boy they had come to love and see as their grandson? I had been positive that they had understood this. It may be that we had not been as forthcoming as needed with them. Oh! The guilt! Now it was Mary’s turn to speak, “Yes, we know all that and although we think there is an angel watching over you and Oliver, we know we could lose him. That would be devastating but only more reason to be near to you. Les worked hard at making us understand this.” Mary continued,” You want to make us grandparents and you will. If the unthinkable happens, we know you will open your home and hearts to more little children. We hope you will do this even if Oliver is the so special gift who stays. These little future loves could be your foster children with possibilities of new beginnings. You have much to give and we want to help. We hope and pray that Oliver will be our grandson. We want to be near to love and babysit as well as share in your lives.” Louise added, “You should also know that we are going to go to Florida after Christmas for a month or more. We have not given up on that. Now we will go with each other as family and not alone. This gift is for us and, hopefully, for you! We are newly found sisters who want to see the world. Umm, could you say something now? The town homes will also make it easier for us to do just that! Please speak!” I sat staring, and now Les was really looking worried. The newly bonded sisters looked at us with wonder and questions in their faces. Les stood and hugged them both. I ed the group hug with tears all around. Was this our destiny? “The crying family?” Just like that, we felt her. FM was always around when there were tears. She was pres against all of us. I scooped her up to absorb my tears. She pushed away and, then, we heard it and saw it. FM ran and jumped into little Oliver’s arms. Her weight brought him down. He was sobbing and gasping. He was ing something. His reaction was intense. His eyes were wide and wild. He sat against the wall holding on to FM with all his might. He was ing something; of that we were sure. I thought he may be ing when his mother heard the news that his father

was killed and gone from them. He was also ing when he had been abandoned. Only that kind of interaction could have brought on the reaction we observed. We were stunned. We stood still while we sought an answer. He was mentally pulling away from us with FM tightly clutched to him. One of us knew exactly what to do. FM reached up and licked his little cheek and seemed to bring him back to us. The squeezing should have bothered FM, but she purred and licked until he stopped gasping and choking. We all seemed to know this was her time, her gift to little man. We did not rush to him but let her bring him back to us. We all knew she would be the best one to bring on this miracle. FM turned to look at us. Les separated from the hug and walked toward Oliver. He shrieked and crawled toward the wall and plastered himself and FM against it. His eyes were glazed. He was trying to swallow his cries and choked as he did. FM pushed away from Oliver and leaped into Les’s arms. Oliver looked stricken. Les put FM in front of him. He sat next to Oliver and pulled him into his lap. At first Oliver pushed away. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around Les in a death grip. Both shook with raw emotions. FM sat by them and her purring seeming to fill the room. Oliver reached for her and she climbed onto his lap. They made a perfect family sandwich. Les was under Oliver and Oliver was under FM. The effect was therapeutic for us all. I advanced slowly, and gently put my arms around them all. As soon as the fear left his eyes Mary did the same, to shortly be followed by Louise. We all stood in a mass until Louise whispered, “I am almost scared to add to our news.” I felt the chuckle begin with Les and ease around the hug participants except for FM and Oliver. They were more curious than anything. What was the thing with this family? Everything was so often emotional. “Ice cream?’ questioned someone and we all turned to go to the kitchen. Champagne and ice cream seemed appropriate. Why not? Ice cream for all and champagne for those over four feet tall was the answer for now. Tears, laughter and food seemed to all go together for us. Oh yes! And chicken treats were also essential to be sprinkled lightly over vanilla ice cream. We put our boy in his chair and moved the extra chair next to him for FM since

she was having ice cream, too. I gently placed her in her chair and pressed a loving kiss to her head. She looked up at me and slowly closed and opened her eyes. I now knew that was her signal of love. I worked hard at not crying again…successfully, as I heard grandmom Louise mutter, “Don’t get us started!” Chuckles erupted around the table. I suddenly raised my head. Now what? The moms informed us that they were moving basic supplies into the newly purchased townhouses for my brothers who were coming for Christmas. Oh my! I just hoped we could all handle this. I knew my twin brothers were coming with their girlfriends but hadn’t heard about the other two. Our moms were moving in with us to help with the chaos about to happen. It needn’t be added that their culinary challenged daughter needed help. I was concerned about this being too much for Oliver, but the game was on.

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Two weeks to prepare Oliver for the chaos was going to be a challenge. He was now used to crowds and hugs and tears and laughter but a house full of people? My brothers had been told about the challenges before them and that this might not be a permanent life situation. They knew we would have Oliver for an undisclosed time. I knew they would ignore all that and treat him like the nephew they felt they deserved! My family was amazing. I didn’t know why I bothered to tell them to be cautious and tread lightly. It was all or nothing for that group. Our families were amazing. Oliver had landed in a hornets’ nest of love and chaos. I took Oliver into every crowd situation I could. Shopping at the mall went from hanging back by the lad, to me being pulled forward by him, to see and touchyes touch-please don’t judge me. He wanted to touch for the first time in his life! It was Oliver! Let him touch! Crystal and Jamie ed us on several occasions. Oliver watched and learned normal little boy behavior from the enthusiastic Jamie. Jamie showed Oliver all the toys that he wanted and insisted that Oliver ask Santa for them. Oliver’s big eyes took it all in but showed a preference for cat accessories and building blocks. Regi and FM were amassing treasures! Oliver learned restraint from Jamie as facts were stated. Jamie pulled Oliver’s hands away from exciting displays and told him, “Santa won’t bring you things if you touch. He has to make new ones to replace them and you lose out!” Clerks beamed at our little angels and gave us big smiles. Jamie had been taught well by his mother and wanted to share all his knowledge with Oliver. I was in favor of that in a big way. Jamie was surprising me again. When I thought about it, I realized that Jamie got most of what he wanted so he wasn’t anxious about it. Every trip led to a purchase for FM. Big blue eyes were impossible to resist. I ended a shopping trip with a purchase of a beautiful large basket to contain FM’s

growing property. She treated each toy with an attitude of, “Let’s kill it!” This made our little man break down in giggle sessions that turned everyone present into howling banshees as we laughed at both little creatures. Oliver threw and FM pounced. Life was perfect for them in this duo role. I tried hard to get Oliver to put back all of FM’s toys at night as they got scattered everywhere. FM’s treasure trove was in the family room and I watched with amazement as FM trotted into the room with her furry head held high and dug through her treasures to pick out a toy. She would gracefully jump down from the basket and trot off with her choice. Oliver followed for games of chase. Soon, FM would be back to pick out more. I wondered if I could teach FM to return them. Nah!!! She could get by with anything she wanted.

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Three days before Christmas brought our baby of the family, David. The doorbell rang and I opened the front door with Oliver peeking from behind me. FM felt no risk to her kitten, so bounded away from that annoying doorbell sound. David reached out to hug me. “Hi sis, miss me?” In his hand he held a toy for FM that was destined to drive us all insane. He put it on the floor and spun a small white ball encased in a plastic circle. FM returned in a whirl of fur and ran to it. She performed amazing leaps and slaps in an effort to release the ball. Oliver looked at David with new appreciation. He had brought FM something which delighted her. Big points were gained here! That was my David! Oliver left me to sit in front of the toy and giggle in his very fetching way. FM was determined to release that ball. When that didn’t happen, she ran to put other toys in the run that she could release with a mighty swing of her paw. Tiny mice and her coils flew through the air as she gained success in her style. FM and Oliver were captivated. David plopped down onto the carpet without further ado and dug out a yoyo from his coat pocket. At this level both Oliver and FM could see the new item. The next move was to stand and put the yoyo into action. The yoyo had been David’s favorite toy when he was little. He was very skilled with this seemingly insignificant item. He displayed all kinds of yoyo tricks before he was ready to share this little piece of David magic. I went to prepare treats and could hear howls of laughter. Les, David and Oliver were all trying the yoyo with less success than the master himself. FM was successful in grabbing this new toy on a string and ran off with it to thunderous applause and laughter. I walked in to the fun. FM dropped this new diversion and went sailing past me to the window in full growl mode! David was impressed with our guardian as he went to let his brothers in. Adam and Ben popped in with their girlfriends in tow. This was just too much for FM and Oliver.

FM pranced near with fur raised in a challenge pose. I reached for our feline angel and attempted to calm her. This was beginning to be more than she found acceptable. One nice intruder, ok, but this was just getting out of control. She had to put her paw down at some point and perhaps that time was now. Adam grabbed David and mussed his hair as he said, “We knew you would come early to become the favorite uncle! You better not have brought a yoyo! No matter, he already has a pony. No one can beat a pony! Is Cameron here?” he said as he turned toward FM who was held firmly in my arms. “Oh wait. That is no pony! Is that a cat? It is huge! Wait, whose cat is this? Lee doesn’t want animals in the house!!! Whose hairy little kid is this? It does sort of look like David. Hmmmm.!” FM responded to this loud voice with a loud growl which was echoed by Oliver. Laughter, to be found in abundance in our home for the next week, burst forth. The doorbell pealed again and Cameron, always on time, pushed his way in! Let the party begin! I bet you have noticed my mother’s sense of humor. The boys were named A through D. How I started this out with an L is beyond me and one of her best kept secrets. The brothers insist it is because I am adopted. This was their favorite joke. I always tell them how delighted I am that I do not have their genes. This delighted them even more as they insisted, I did on their mother’s side. Their story changed as they wished it to, according to the time of day or whimsy. We were always running to the grocery store for this huge group. At night, they headed to the townhomes belonging to Louise and Mary. Lucky for us, the townhomes had been stocked for breakfast by my Mom, Mary. Stock in liquor must have soared. That was the responsibility of the brothers and our mother. One more day to Christmas and the town’s larders were being challenged. Would they make it through a day before shopping again? Whatever food was left would be consumed as the mothers decided to move out of their homes and into the townhomes to be closer to Oliver and to us, to be as available when we needed them for any reason. Our home rocked with laughter and my brother’s girlfriends cooed and fussed

over Oliver. They did their best to get him to talk but shy smiles and occasional FM trills were the only sounds he contributed to the fun. Anne asked for an explanation for the sound and repeated it to have both FM and Oliver in. Beth, not wanting to be left out, ed in. At that moment I wished with all my might that Adam and Ben would make these girls family. They certainly fit in. FM seemed thrilled and we determined that these sounds were happy loving sounds just as they sounded like when FM and Oliver conversed with them. Hey! Maybe I could become a Speech and Language Pathologist for animals, Russian Siberian cats for sure. Maybe I could teach Russian cat language to all cats everywhere. There may be a market there! We all donned our outerwear and piled in cars to go to church. Oliver stopped in the driveway and looked at our group as they piled into cars. He seemed to be deciding which car to enter. Then he made a decisive move toward our car. Was this another sign of acceptance? I only wished I could understand nonverbal language as much as I did verbal. He had his own way of conversing by using his decision making. After church with songs and candles, we all went to a local restaurant. It was time for treats. The eating never stopped. The conversation was loud, but Oliver did not cringe. His little head bobbed from person to person as he seemed to follow the conversations. When Adam asked for the salt, Oliver picked it up and threw it at him. We all laughed and applauded. Oliver knew what applause was and he clapped, too. That was to change.

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We pulled into our drive to see a package leaned against the front door. There was no card on it, so we shook it and put it under the tree. Was this perhaps a last-minute gift from Crystal and Jamie? It would be just like her to do that. I could just hear them chuckling about their mystery contribution to our holiday. Christmas morning was just for the four of us and our moms aka grandmoms. Since allergies were not caused by our cat, FM got whichever grandmom’s lap wasn’t occupied by Oliver. She had at least four different purrs and used all of them this Christmas morning. Oliver kept looking around as if he expected the rowdy young men to appear. Oliver tried to purr, too as he had grown to love new clothes and the color blue. He had countless outfits, and most were blue in every shade. He smiled nonstop and tromped and stomped around in his new boots with pajama hems tucked in. We laughed and FM and Oliver purred. The last box was given to him only slightly damp from being outside. He tore it open and smiled. He pulled out a toy train and showed it to FM. He held the train close, but FM hissed at it. With one fluid motion the toy was cast aside. The tag attached to the box said, “From Mommy”. There was a card in the box addressed to Les and me. We opened it to find it was a request to us to allow her to see her son. The card was signed Angela. I looked at Les in despair. He looked back with a face that told me he was deeply concerned. This was not how a visit would and should be set up. I got up and went to the kitchen to prepare Oliver’s beloved coconut caramel oatmeal with fresh bananas. We were going to have omelets but neither of us felt the desire. Oatmeal all around was the decision. The grandmoms had concurred as it was an easy beginning to a crazy day. Soon the rest of the family would arrive. I heard a lament from the grandmoms. They had found and read the card. What now? We agreed to reach Roger as soon as possible. We also decided to not tell my brothers and their lady friends, Anne

and Beth. That decision turned out to be the right one. During dinner Adam and Ben both announced their engagements. Neither had known about the other’s proposal. Adam stated, “This is the best Christmas ever, we got the loves of our lives and a little ring bearer to boot.” Everyone burst into laughter and cheers for many reasons. Happy noises continued. We were teasing the boys that they must have had trouble finding girls with the appropriate first names. Ben insisted that Beth’s real name had been Zelda and he had tried to have it changed to Batilda, but they had finally agreed on Beth. Anne held her hand up and professed that her real name had always been Anne. Laughter pealed forth. Les and I got up to bring more wine and were followed by Oliver. I sat in the overstuffed chair and held my head while willing the tears to not be shed. FM ran into the family room and ran to Oliver only to swerve sharply and land in my lap. I could feel Les shaking as he pulled FM and me close to him. Oliver grabbed his stuffed cat to show his “uncles” and ran to them without noting our stress. The twins had arranged to fly out later Christmas day to tell the news to the girls’ families. Cameron and David took them to their planes and then stopped to see old friends in town. Mary and Louise went to straighten out the townhouses. The idea was to give our little family of four some time to enjoy our first Christmas, just Les, Oliver, FM and me-together. We held them tightly and spoiled them shamelessly while holding back tears and fears. It was official. She wanted to see her son.

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The next two days ed with no additional communication from Angela. Oh yes, she was Oliver’s Mom, but we felt it was in title only. We did wonder what had happened to Oliver during the time he had been with his birth parents. Perhaps we were about to find out. It would be Angela’s story as Oliver was unable to tell his. He may be telling us some of it with his terrors and silence. Not all communication had to be verbal. This was especially true when it came to children and animals. We called Roger later in the week and he came over. He read the note and asked us to let him know if there were more s. We agreed with vehemence. He would be informed immediately. She had not put any information about how to reach her in her note. This was puzzling. Perhaps she planned on ing us when she was ready. The question was all about what she was getting ready to do. As of now, the ball was in her court! It did seem strange to ask for without allowing a means for it. She had the reins now. It was how she liked it, apparently. We waited to see how she planned to move on and if she wanted Oliver with her in her limited world. It may be possible that she would be willing to leave him in a home where he would be well cared for and where he was loved and appreciated. She may pick us for him. This could be the quickest way to resolve this and guarantee Oliver a new and safe existence. His mother was the last contingency. It was, again, a time of waiting. How did she exist now? Her boyfriend was gone. There was no record of a marriage, so boyfriend had to be the relationship. They had stayed together but barely managed. Life had to have been a struggle since she left home as a pregnant teenager with no resources other than her boyfriend who was also a jobless teenager. Was it easier for her to find and keep a job without Oliver? How would that continue if Oliver was back with her? Did she have adequate living space? Had

she found a car? Was she stable enough to ask for the return of her son? Would that happen? We knew it was possible. She had not relinquished guardianship of him. She had maintained a form of . The waiting was painful. However, we feared more with her.

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School started and I went back to my job. I warned his teacher to be very cautious with him. I told the office the situation and they agreed to continue to have only his grandmoms on his permission pick up list. If anyone tried to change that they would call me immediately. I always carried my cell phone with the vibration set to on in my pocket. All was still quiet when Friday came, and we went home with Oliver. FM was more vigilant than ever. It felt peaceful to me to have her there with us. A better guard animal could not be found. To this day, I do not know if her heightened awareness was from sensing Les’s and my anxieties or from within herself, but she was on alert. When we opened the door to come in, she petted against us by rubbing up against our legs and then down with her body in an upward curve in her own version of reassurance. It worked. I look back now and wonder how she had so much power. She was a mystery creature who was full of mystique. That is how I will always think of her. The weekend was more calming. Crystal and Jamie came over to play. We heard stories about Regi, and his antics were amusing. When they arrived FM would sniff them and then open her mouth and make chuffing sounds before turning away. Crys would reassure us that they did not smell and laugh. I assured her that FM did not like animals. I even convinced her that FM was not an animal herself. I believe I convinced her. We were constantly hearing from my brothers who even came to safely move our mothers into their townhomes when their homes closed within a week of each other. All four brothers came to help in the move. They are a rowdy, noisy and happy crew. Oliver was ecstatic. He had come to feel safe with this huge family. They had decided on a double wedding to be held the week of Christmas. Would the little ring bearer be there for them next Christmas? We had no way of telling.

My brothers were convinced and practiced ring bearing with Oliver. He could safely carry FM’s coil toy perched on a pillow across the living room with 50% accuracy. I quickly agreed that I would make the small silk pillow and have a ribbon on which the rings would be tied. With that proclamation, Oliver threw the coil with FM in pursuit. David raised an eyebrow and proclaimed that we should forget the pillow and let the rings be carried in the jaws of a beast to be pursued by the ring bearer. Of course, they would have to throw the rings first. Although Adam and Ben loved the idea, it was voted down by their future brides. Once our mothers were secure in their new abodes, some relief was gained by us. They came to see us frequently and both Oliver and FM were elated by their visits. We were even forced out of our house for a date night as they took over our boy under the supervision of FM! We were resistant but it was a wonderful escape for a while. We were very eager to get home though. Angela never followed up on her request for visitation. Roger talked to us weekly at first and then every two weeks. They had with her and were trying to help her with the decisions that were ahead. She had sought the after her own investigation into Oliver’s situation. She had located those in charge. She was putting them off with plans of her own to be revealed later. Something was unsettling in her life and she wasn’t disclosing it. Perhaps one set or the other of the grandparents had relented. We were only guessing. She was not letting go of her plans. She said she needed time. We waited.

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Spring came and we were getting more relaxed when it happened. Roger called and told us that Angela had returned to them. She had called the office to talk to the social worker and anyone else in charge of a little boy named Oliver. He was meeting with her in one week to discuss her intents and tell her about her rights. We would be invited to bring Oliver to meet with her to make the transition easier for him. We were assured that this did not mean we would lose him soon or perhaps ever. We did not know the story behind this new or where it would take us. Angela agreed that we should be told the story as it was revealed and be informed of her intent to best benefit Oliver. Angela’s story as it was told to us was as follows: Angela and Adam left their homes to make a new one with the baby on its way. They were only fifteen and unprepared for the world to be presented to them. Adam had a friend who knew someone who could make them fake driver licenses in case they were going to be pursued. They couldn’t afford it so waited to see what would happen. They moved in with their friend in his tiny apartment. The young man was a secondyear college student and couldn’t afford to keep them. No one pursued them. He asked them to find other housing. Adam had ed one of his siblings outside of his high school. The brother told him that their parents had not relented and acted like Adam and his little family did not exist. This was the true end of the relationship with that family. They moved to Fargo, North Dakota and he got a job as a construction worker. She found one as a waitress. They ran out of the money they had taken with them. They were paid for their work and purchased an old car which became their home. They cleaned up in the restaurant and truck stop bathrooms. Angela learned that if she opened the restaurant in the morning, she could sneak Adam in for a cleanup and leftovers. She went into labor and they entered the closest hospital during her delivery. The hospital had to take them under these conditions. They ed under their fake names and gave the hospital a health insurance held by her parents and said

they would get the balance of the insurance information after the birth. She was brought the baby for nursing and she and Adam ran from the hospital. The hospital wrote off the debt and all was forgotten. They soon had enough money to get a room in a cheap motel. They would take the baby in the car and leave him in it while she went in to work. Crying never brought him his mother but a regular break did. Soon he quit crying. His first year was spent this way with him being cared for by the parent not working or left in the car parked near the work site of his mother when weather permitted. They hushed him when he cried and tried their best to maintain some sort of home for him with the car being the last resort. Angela thought she and Adam were doing their best for Oliver. She loved them both but felt the strain of this task. She ed how life had been for her. Suddenly the home her parents supplied for her seemed like a castle. She ached to return where she was not welcome. They started to fight regularly due to the stress. There was much yelling and crying. They found a cheap motel with a small kitchen and moved in on a weekly basis. During one of these fights Adam took the car and left in a fit of rage. She heard about the accident on the tv in the motel room. She melted down and only gained control of herself when she looked at her young son and saw the raw fear in his face as he huddled in a corner of the room. They had not worked with Oliver to get him to talk. It was safer when he did not. He responded to his name but rarely cried or attempted communication. He would cry and shake when they fought. Making sounds were not rewarding for him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Now Angela tried to talk to him, but it only scared him. She felt very alone as she realized that it would only get tougher with only one adult to care for Oliver. She felt the need for someone to care for her and care about her. Oliver only cringed and turned his back to her. Angela knew it was now just the two of them. She had no job and spent daytimes in malls. At night they stayed in the park or with kind friends if the weather drove them in. Her friends were suggesting shelters to her. She knew she had to do something. He clung to her when she wrote out the note and headed to the fire station. She

could barely care for Oliver when Adam was there. They gained and lost jobs when anyone became suspicious. They had survived, but now she didn’t have Adam to help her. She had no one to care for him when she worked, and he was getting too big to lock in the car or leave in a motel by himself. She had worn out the help of friends. They were busy with their lives and many were going to college. She was desperate when she put him on the step of that firehouse and ordered him to stay while shaking her finger at him. This had become his sign to remain put and to be silent. She was able to get a job in a restaurant. Her friends let her move amongst them and shower wherever she could until she could, again, afford a motel room. Without Oliver, she found a job and went to get her GED to time. She had scored high on the GED and would qualify for a grant. The school suggested she get a Pell grant and begin school. Her life started to have direction and she was able to get caught up and have friends and even met a young man. When she told him her story, he helped her improve her life. He helped her visualize a future. She was smart and could get a life. The relationship grew and they talked of a future together. He encouraged her to check on her son and make decisions there. He even offered to help her with the baby but encouraged her to let him go to a family who could afford to care for him. Oliver needed to be loved and gain some normal home life. The young man, named Anthony did not want to become a father. His parents were paying for college for him and his future was to follow in his father’s footsteps. Anthony knew how to get her grants to help her see a light at the end of her tunnel. He would be there for her whatever her decision was. He had talked to his parents and she had met them. They had accepted Angela and had much sympathy for her. They had two other children headed to college when they left high school. Their plans were set. They would continue to pay for Anthony’s small apartment and his college. That may include Angela and Oliver. Anthony was going to be an attorney and had years of school ahead. Angela wanted to be a nurse. Ultimately, she wanted to be a physician’s assistant.

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She was able to find Oliver as he bore the name, she and Adam had given to him. She traced him to his foster home and started to watch him when she wasn’t working or going to school. She was torn between getting him back and letting him go. She decided that she needed to decide about Oliver. She owed that to him. Further research brought her to the social worker named Roger Blake. She made an appointment to see Roger and told him her story. The biggest changes to her life came when she met her young man, Anthony Black. He was an important person in her life. He had cared enough about her to introduce her to his parents. They could have a future. They heard her story and accepted her for who she was. They encouraged her to find Oliver and make some decisions. They told her he was afloat and not adoptable as the conditions were now presented to them. They encouraged Anthony to loan her his car. She was still living with her roommate but spent a lot of time at Anthony’s small apartment where they both studied. Angela told Roger that Oliver had never been abused and Roger had to explain to her just what abuse was. Striking a child wasn’t the only form of abuse. Leaving him in cars, alone in hotels or motels and making him go for hours without food until one of them could return to where they left him were all forms of abuse. He suggested parenting classes for her, and she accepted this and started them the next week. Now she was taking more classes and working. Adam and Angela had found some way of making him be quiet to hide his existence during those early times. What had they done to him to accomplish that? He did not speak at age three because of them. Obligatory classes to be completed before she could have a future with Oliver were explained. She listened and worried. How could she accomplish so much with the schedule she was now on? She also ed the promise her parents made to her if the baby wasn’t a part of her life. They were near retirement and did not want that changed for them.

She could stay with them or her new boyfriend and have the money she needed to begin college. She could get grants to start on the road to a successful career. She had a better idea of what was needed to allow a child to reach his potential. Her mind was a tangle of thoughts. She asked to see him to help her make up her mind. She leaned toward her new and better life and was uncertain what would happen if she was able to regain Oliver. Would it change both their lives? She loved him. Was that enough for him? Was it even good for him? An appointment was made for her to meet us. We went through some counseling to prepare us for this interaction. We could not get angry or show negative emotions. She had been a child and still was a child. We felt we were ready. Oliver had an appointment to see the social worker and the psychologist assigned to him. He sensed something was up and was a bit tense as he faced the men he had come to see as friends. Roger explained to him that his Mommy wanted to see him and that he could still go home with us until Mommy and he were ready to become a family again. Oliver’s big solemn eyes watched Roger and his little chin begin to shake. Roger thought he didn’t understand but I had a feeling he knew something big was going to happen. His receptive language had blossomed. He looked at me. Just who was Mommy to him now? Oliver’s eyes were huge as he struggled to figure it out. He clung to me with amazing strength. We were taken to another room to begin the meeting with his birth mother. I was working hard to not cry and scare him. I was being successful. He watched us closely and then seemed to get some relief from our expressions. We put him on the floor, and he walked over to some toys placed on a table for him and his mother to play with to check interaction. He looked back at me and smiled. He was in another room with toys and we were with him. He trusted us. I felt like I was going to be sick. Would he be glad to see her or feel we didn’t want him anymore? Would he feel betrayed? He started to hum. He was showing us something new to please us. He looked up to us and smiled. He watched to see if this new sound pleased us. We smiled and crooned to him. He kept humming. We hummed with him. We hummed Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer together for the first time.

Les and I sat in the chairs by the door we had used for entrance to this playroom. The door on the other wall opened and Angela walked in carrying a little gift for him. He was looking at the toys and didn’t look up. She announced, “Hi Oliver. It’s Mommy. I love you baby. Look what Mommy brought for you.” He looked up with a jolt. He abruptly sat on the floor staring while she approached. She kept smiling and I noticed that her hands were shaking. He stood and started to sob. She said, “Shhh baby. It is Mommy.” As soon as she said “shhh”, he reacted with tenseness shown by the rigidity of his body and started gasping. “Shhh!” she repeated. “Be quiet baby!” He rotated and reached out his arms to me. My heart fell to my feet. Angela went to her knees and repeated, “No baby, Shhhh. It is Mommy.” He sank to the ground. He screamed and turned to me crawling rather than getting up to run. He looked into my eyes and screamed. “No! No! My Mommy. Come Mommy. Now Mommy, Now Mommy! Not Mommy, Now Mommy!” I broke rules I did not know I had, but suspected. I ran to him and swooped him up in my arms. He clung to me and we both cried. He finally spoke and it was to summon and get comfort from me…his Mommy, his Now Mommy. I ed when I had comforted and told him I was his Now Mommy. He ed. I turned from her and scurried to Les. Les was stunned and whispered, “He spoke…to you…to save him. His first words were for you to save him!” Les put his arms around Oliver and me. I noticed that tears flowed down his cheeks. I looked to Roger for help and saw tears there as well. Then I turned to Angela. I first saw surprise, then grief and then, yes, relief. What happens now? Was she relieved because he talked or that he recognized her with hope for better times? I hoped she felt relief because he had found someone to love who loved him back. Did she think that when he got to know her better…he would happy times…he would love her again? Did they have happy times? Oliver clung and I stroked his rigid back. No one spoke and then the silence was broken. Roger stated, “He goes home with his foster parents. We can set up counseling sessions for Oliver and you, Angela. Are you comfortable with that? I suggest the reintroduction end now. Oliver is inconsolable and needs time and therapy at best. This was too harsh

and sudden a re-introduction. He goes home with his foster parents now. I only hope he does not require more intensive therapy. Angela, he is afraid of you. Let us find out why and how we can change this.” Angela stood and walked toward us. She murmured, “Oliver, I am sorry. I did my best. I gave so much.” He sobbed and whispered into my neck, “No, Mommy. No. Help Now Mommy! No go. No go!” I held him close and turned away from her and into the arms of my husband with Oliver sandwiched between us. She stopped advancing and turned and ran from the room. Oliver had made his choice, but he was only three. Who would listen to him? His social worker, his psychologist would see how far he had come. Maybe it was time to consult an attorney and fight for our son. Roger told us we could leave while he went to talk to Angela. We literally ran from that room of torture and wrapped Oliver’s coat around him as we left the building. We didn’t want to slow down enough to put his coat on and I was not sure if I could pry him loose enough to get it on in any case.

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We broke a few rules on our way home. I did not put him in his car seat. He continued to cling and sob. When we drove into our driveway, I whispered to him, “We are home Oliver. See, FM is waiting in the window. Look at her. She wants to see you.” He whispered, “EEEEFFFFFF MMMMMM.” I cooed, “Yes Oliver FM is right there” He pushed back a bit to look me right in the eyes and crooned back, “No shhh, Now Mommy? No shhh. No shhhh.” I responded “Never, Oliver. No shhh. We want you to talk to us, Precious boy!” I carried him into the house. FM was at the door trilling and chirping to her baby. I put Oliver down as he twisted toward his guardian. Oliver went to his knees and informed her, “No shhh my kitty.” We all sat on the floor in one big hug. He was home and he was talking. He was our son and we had to do all we could to make it permanent. He was worn out and followed FM to his bedroom. We followed, too. He climbed onto his bed, boots and all. FM jumped up on the bed and rested her big paws on his chest. After he fell asleep, I eased the boots off and covered him up. That night FM never left his side. We stayed up late talking about what we could do. Somehow, FM seemed calmer. She sensed the anxiety all around her, but seemed to think all was well. We needed to take our cues from her. We met with Angela and Oliver a few more times. We were going to try a reunion with more forethought and less threat to Oliver. He would be on our laps until he felt safe enough to get off on his own. She was getting counseling and seemed able to try interaction with a better gentler approach. He would watch her but not speak to her. When he had reached his limit, he would turn in our laps and say, “I want FM. I need FM.” Yes, his words were really coming along. It was as if he had learned all he needed to speak, but feared the interaction. He was not supposed to talk before but now it was different. He didn’t speak to her. In fact, he would turn his back to her before he spoke to us. The last time we went to see her; he looked at her while grimly clutching our

hands. From this place of safety, he spoke to her for the first time. “No, Angela. I stay with FM, Now Mommy and Daddy. No, Angela. I go home. You go home.” She offered, “How about if I get you a new kitty? You can pick out your new kitty. You can have a kitty! You can come to live with me and your brand-new kitty.” Oliver met her gaze and said, “No Angela, FM, Now Mommy and Daddy.” He shook his head with great vehemence and stood up to her with a firm and decisive hands on his hips stance. She responded, “Maybe we can have FM come to live with us. It would be you and Mommy and FM in a new house. OK?” Oliver retorted, “No. I go home now! Bye Angela.” With that declaration he slid off my lap and turned to Les and took our hands. We were going home and right now. That was enough of that nonsense. FM awaited us in our home.

Chapter 74

More counseling was advised and then we met again. We had spoken with an attorney and were concerned about his advice. Oliver was three and not capable of making a choice. We documented everything and had a file prepared. It all seemed iffy. Parents had rights and Angela wanted to learn all there was to know about this. She took a couple weeks after our last interaction to make again. She requested another meeting with us. Angela asked that we not bring Oliver, so he was tucked away with his grandmoms. Perhaps this was when she would make her demands. I suspected that she would want him taken from us to “wean” him from his protectors. Now that he had talked to her she may want to meet with him alone. Maybe she wanted to lay down some ground rules with us, without Oliver to hear. I feared the scenes that would ensue if she chose to take him. Roger told us that she had been going to all her classes and that her home with Anthony had been inspected and deemed acceptable. Anthony had turned out to be a wonderful influence on Angela and even offered to attend parenting classes. It seemed idyllic and terrifying. They were doing all that was asked of them to become very young but competent parents. Roger walked with us to a private office. She was there waiting and began, “I have started college. I spoke with my parents and they are helping me. I moved in with my boyfriend to their great relief. We are mending fences. I have never been so happy, and I know that the best thing for Oliver is that he stay with you. I have spoken to an attorney.” I gasped. Was she telling us that it seemed best for Oliver at this time, but it wasn’t how it would be? The best for Oliver may not be about to happen even though she knew what would be best for all. An attorney had been involved. The fight was on. I felt sick. I sat tall and proud and told her, “We also spoke with an attorney. We have decided to take legal action and to keep Oliver as our son. If we fail, we hope

you will allow us to continue to see him. We love him. We don’t want to hurt you, but we feel that he is as loved as any child we would have given birth to and don’t want to part with him.” She stated, “I know that. He thinks he is your son. I don’t know what he thinks of me, but I know it is not with the love he has displayed for you. I love him but I don’t think it is with the intensity you have for him. I was only a child myself. I still am a child…a wiser child, but still a child. I think that if his father and I had met now we wouldn’t have even found each other interesting much less as partners. I went to the attorney to find out how to circumvent the state’s foster and adoption process. I have found an attorney willing to help us do a private adoption. I want you to be the legal parents of Oliver. You are his parents and now we need to make this legal for his sake.” Les and I stared at her and then I ran to her and hugged her. We both cried. I asked if she wanted to continue to be a part of his life and she itted that she would like to watch from a distance. One day she would be successful. She would find the love of her life as I had, and they may have children together. She may have even found her love, but they would take their time and seek help along the way. “I have learned from watching you and from the counseling I have had. I am not ready to be a mother now and I certainly wasn’t at 15. I would have gotten closer to watch you with Oliver, but your dog cat was so fierce when she saw me. She loves him too. He is a lucky little boy. I thank you for that and wish you the best. Please love my son, no, your son as much as you do now… forever.” Tears formed in her eyes but did not fall. A faint sweet smile I recognized appeared. The door opened and Anthony came in and took her hand. Dear reader, I do not want to bore you with the process, but concessions were made and given. It started snowing in late October when we went to adopt Oliver. We went as a family to formally adopt our son. The whole family came. There was noise and laughter and love, so much love. I will always when he dropped the now and I became his for real Mom! I found out that I was pregnant, and we would give Oliver a little sister or brother. He couldn’t be more excited. We told him at the special pizza party after the adoption. He wanted to name the new baby FM. We will think about it. Maybe we can rearrange the letters for Abby.

We went home to continue the celebration and couldn’t find our kitty. Oliver was panicked and called and called her. She did not reappear. We never found her, but we survived it. Families do that. Oliver slept with us for a while as he felt so very alone without his pal. Les and I have never given up searching for her. There was no possible way for her to get out. I acknowledge that she could open doors. Could she possibly have learned how to unlock them? We feel like we lost a family member. We lost our guardian and our fur angel. We lost our Frosty Mystique. Every day, for months after her disappearance, we walked the neighborhood calling for our lost girl. We looked for footprints in the snow. We looked for those big bright eyes and listened for her trilling and chirping. Oliver never gave up and insisted on our morning and nightly walks. His speech caught up and exceeded age level. He used his new skills to call for his kitty. She never answered. We went to shelters and sent out notices. We d for her and begged others to help us. We went to all vets for miles around with pictures of her. Jamie and Crys ed us in our quest. They cried with us. My brothers had planned to put flowers in her ample fur and have her be their flower cat girl. She would have walked beside her human kitten. They ed in the search, as well. No beloved pet was ever sought like she was. I heard Oliver cry as he sat by her basket. Her clean litter box remained in place and her overflowing toy basket was never moved. At night I could hear his sobs. I cried with him when I went to his room. He climbed into my lap and we told FM stories. She was never to be forgotten.

Chapter 75

The grandmoms went to Florida for the month of November and returned the end of November for the wedding. Their friendship had continued to grow, and they even had a door installed between their townhome units to not have to go out in the cold. They brought a ray of sunshine with them from Florida. At least, that is what we told them. They came the next morning after their return with a carrier. They explained that the trip, taken together, involved retrieving Russian Siberians kittens. They had searched long before FM vanished for kittens of their own. They had found a breeder in Florida and liked and trusted the information they had gotten from and about the breeder. They didn’t tell us what was in the carrier, but the carrier told us. We stared in disbelief as the carrier started to chirp. The carrier swayed with the activity from within. They set the carrier on the carpet and opened the door. Three balls of fluff tumbled out. Oliver sat on the carpet and whispered, “FM. Baby FM.”. One was the brown and golden tabby color of our lost love. That kitten turned and bounced into Oliver’s extended arms. The other two embraced each other in a tangle of fur. They rolled across the rug like two little fur balls. My mother added, “There is a price to pay for your baby. The other two silver tabby kittens belong to us. When we go to Florida, we want you to babysit for our two. Meet FM2, Classi and Fanci. I guess FM2 and Oliver picked each other. The breeder lives in Florida and is the reason we took the winter trip, even though we had to return for the weddings. We had been talking to the breeder, Lynda, for a long time and were able to get our two silvers. Then, the breeder, Lynda, told us that a brown and golden tabby had come available. We had told her the story about FM. We felt it was a sign. We immediately took that little girl we named FM2. We didn’t tell you about the

kittens at first as we thought it may be painful after your loss. We felt the third kitten was a sign to us. She is even the same color as FM. FM had vanished and wasn’t coming back so we made the decision. We picked up all three the second week of December. Merry Early Christmas darlings!”

Epilogue

Miles away, a young couple had just taken their little girl from the hospital. She had been in the hospital for testing. The little girl had been lethargic and sad. They were depressed and concerned. Little Addison had always been a bright and happy child. A diagnosis had not yet been found. More tests had been ordered. They suspected some form of leukemia. The prognosis was frightening. As they turned onto their street a small dark shape ran across in front of them. They applied the car’s breaks and slid into their driveway. As they walked up to the house they looked to see if they had missed the little apparition. The little girl was led to the steps where she put out her arms. A dark furry flash was in those arms immediately. The parents moved to take the furry cat away but saw their daughter smile for the first time in a very long time. The mother smiled wistfully back at her daughter., “Let us take her inside and for her owners” She looked at her husband and asked, “Can you run to the store and get kitty supplies? This kitty can stay with us while we look for his or her home. She is beautiful. Someone must be looking for her.” The father looked at his daughter and smiled while turning to this task. The little girl giggled as the bundle chirped and trilled to her. One little girl laughed and cooed to the beautiful furry angel. Two adults shed tears for entirely different reasons than they had all month. “A mystery.” said the mother. A month later the attempts to find her owner ended. A diagnosis had been found. They needed an angel and perhaps they had found one. Addie named her furry friend, Angel Mystery. This special kitty was home. Again.

About The Author

She speaks in many voices with her back ground in academic and business leadership roles. A hope for salvation for traumatized children comes from knowledge of this with her life experiences that include a Master’s degree in Speech and Language Pathology combined with areas of concentration/interests in English, Art and Psychology. She has touched the lives of these challenged individuals with hope and drive to turn their lives in the direction they should go to be all they can be. She has always loved animals and the magic they create in all they touch.