Her Forever Family Read Free Page B

boots.”

Chapter Three
    T en days had passed and Ethan was stubbornly nursing a grudge.
    “Son, you’ve got to leave that room sooner or later. Please come down and join me for dinner,” Ben called from the top of the stairwell. Since Ethan could detect a pin dropping, there was little doubt he’d heard his father’s request.
    That Big Bend business with the camp and the helicopter rescue was over and done with, behind them forever. The publicity had died down, most of Ethan’s scrapes were healed and the swelling in his ankle was gone. But the boy hadn’t been outside the threshold of his bedroom since the E.R. experience.
    Ben knew there was no bribe he could offer or threat he could make that would get his son to budge. Short of starving Ethan into cooperation there was little to do but give it time, the one thing Ben had in short supply.
    As much as it irked him to admit it, that know-it-alldoctor had been right when she’d called him an unconscionable idiot! Coaxing Ethan into the camping experience seemed to have set them back months of progress. Ben was not only running out of time, he was running out of places to turn for help.
    His visits to online forums revealed patient coping methods he never dreamed anybody would attempt. Reading the posts by self-proclaimed “Aspies” was heartbreaking. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to save his son from sinking further into the depths of the bizarre disorder.
    “Ethan? We may have company later.” Ben was winging it, determined to get a reaction.
    There was no reply, nor could he detect volume from the television. Self-injury was a concern since Ethan had done his share of experimental cutting. So, complete quiet in the rooms upstairs was never a good sign.
    “Ethan!” Ben called loudly, as he traveled the hallway toward the rooms where privacy was no longer his son’s right. The last shred of patience snapped as Ben’s shoulders filled the open doorway. “Answer me this instant!”
    Ethan jumped at the sudden intrusion, brushed away his earphones and flung himself against the headboard of the bed where he’d been sitting.
    “What is it?” he demanded. “Why are you always scaring me like that?”
    The boy’s abrupt tone and disrespectful comments were almost intolerable for Ben. He’d been reared with strict rules of etiquette and sportsmanship, had embraced them all his life. In his head he knew Ethan’srudeness was a symptom of anxiety—the boy probably wasn’t even aware of the effect of his tone and choice of vocabulary—but the words penetrated Ben’s sense of decency like darts pierced a bull’s-eye. Every medical professional he’d spoken with had warned him to choose his battles. On the worry scale, disrespect was fairly low compared to what seemed like a budding case of agoraphobia. Ethan’s refusal to leave his rooms had to be brought under control, but Ben was at his wit’s end.
    How could he consider moving into the political arena when his son was digging his heels in deeper every day, refusing any help? Being the single parent of a boy whose future had gone from promising to unpredictable had meant putting all personal dreams on hold. Possibly forever. How did a motivational speaker put a positive spin on that?
    “I asked you a question,” Ethan snapped.
    “I beg your pardon.” Ben attempted to contain his aggravation. A sarcastic tone would only confuse Ethan’s warped decoding process. “I’ve been trying to get your attention.”
    “Well, now you have it.” Ethan tightly folded his arms across his chest, unaware of his own body language, much less anyone else’s. The lack of ability to send or interpret a nonverbal cue had been one of the earliest signs of trouble.
    “Mrs. Alvarez made your favorite before she left for Mexico. Chicken pot pie,” Ben tempted. “How about coming down to eat while it’s hot? I thought we might invite company over later, maybe watch that History Channel documentary