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

helping him to see the downside to seemingly whimsical decisions. “I have other reasons, Max. Reasons I can’t discuss right now.”
    Max raised his eyebrows in trusting defeat. “For your sake, I’ll simply have to defer to your counselor’s good judgment.” Max gazed out the picture window. “If you’re from this hick place, no wonder you went from baby formula to Jack Daniels. Not much action here at all.”
    “Not so, Max. Might not have a fast food restaurant, but it does have a bowling alley and a music store. So, if my strings pop, I won’t have to order them online and I can see if I can beat the 256 game I rolled last week in Chicago.”
    “Humph.” Max re-checked the clipboard and drummed his fingers. Slow-downs were hard on a Type-A personality.
    “Since I only have the one gig, why don’t you take the day off? Go snow shoeing at the Sports Club down the road. I hear Taberg Tower has a good tubing slope.”
    Max roared with laughter. “Nature’s not my thing, Ethan. Although, a day off or two would be nice. Where’s the nearest civilization?”
    “You could charter a plane to Montreal. It’s about 250 miles north or you could go to Albany … only 90 miles south. Take tomorrow off, too, if you’d like. Leave the clipboard here. If something pops up, I’ll write it down for you. I do know how to take care of myself.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yep. Plenty of frozen dinners in the fridge and there’s always Mickey’s Diner if I get tired of packaged food. Security team is in place. I’ll be fine here alone. What could go wrong?”

Chapter Three
    Sucking in her stomach, Alexis straightened her black slacks and checked the mirror one last time. If she gained any more weight she’d need a new wardrobe. Too much fried chicken and pizza—Gib’s favorites among the few foods he’d eat. Who had time to cook one meal, let alone two? His attention-deficit meds affected his appetite. Most nights, he picked at his plate like a fussy bird. Gib needed the calories; she didn’t. He also needed the meds. Without them, he literally climbed the walls, pretending to be Spiderman. Seemed like in every arena where Gib won, she lost.
    She never had to worry about weight before. When she complained to the counselor, she criticized Alexis’s organizational skills. “Can’t you take off the breading and put the chicken on a salad, or maybe replace one slice of pizza with a fruit bowl?”
    Yeah. She could .
    Gib’s issues drained her creative problem solving. It took less energy to blame him than to look for solutions. True, those extra little steps might make life more tolerable. But who could remember them when living in crisis mode twenty-four hours a day?
    It was so hard to know what she should make an issue and what to slough off to his peculiarities, or what she could attribute to normal growing pains as opposed to issues related to his disability. If only he came with a computer chip, some way of knowing which was which. He liked to mimic. Maybe instead of caving to his whims, if she ate more nutritiously in front of him, he might try better foods. Perhaps the counselor was right. “Gib knows how to play you to get his own way. Disabled children are often masters at manipulation. Love doesn’t conquer all where these kids are concerned.”
    If her love wasn’t strong enough to keep Gib out of trouble, then God’s love had to be. She sang the first line of Ethan Jacobs’s A Christmas Prayer , “God of all majesty, Giver of life. Smile down on this wounded soul today.”
    She waltzed into the kitchen, twirling for Jasmine’s benefit, trusting her friend to render a true assessment of her appearance. Jasmine put down the magazine she’d been reading and gave Alexis a thumbs up. “Girl, you are one fine-looking woman.” Not a day went by without Alexis giving thanks for her friendship with Jasmine. She raised her right brow and closed her left eye, scrutinizing Alexis’s ensemble as carefully as a