When You Were Mine

“How are you finding all this, Ally?” Susan cocks her head, her smile so sympathetic that I feel weirdly on my guard. “Monica mentioned this is your first placement. I know there can be quite an adjustment period, not just for the child in care, but for the family.”

“Um, yeah, we’re okay.” At least I think we are, mostly. I certainly don’t want to burden Susan, who must see families hard hit by tragedy, with my small concerns and petty troubles.

“You have a son?” Susan asks.

“Yes, Josh. He’s a junior in high school. And Emma… she’s at college.”

“How lovely. And how have things been with Dylan?”

“Um, yeah, good.” I sound so nervous, as if I am lying. “He’s a really sweet boy, but, um, you know, he has his moments.”

“Yes.” Susan is unfazed by my veiled criticism. “He’s been having tantrums? Screaming?”

I think of that high, piercing note. “Yes, but only a few times a day.”

Susan nods slowly. “And he’s eating and sleeping okay?”

“I think so. He doesn’t eat very much and he wakes up in the night sometimes, but it’s… manageable.” I’m not going to tell her that I sleep next to him most nights, but the omission makes me feel guilty, and I can feel myself blushing. I know I’m probably breaking some rule.

Susan nods again. “Monica and I would like to meet with you together, to discuss Dylan’s action plan. Now that we know he’ll be staying with you for at least three months, he should be registered for school, as well as scheduled for certain therapies and assessments we believe he needs.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Would fo

ur o’clock tomorrow afternoon be all right?”

“Yes, fine.” I hesitate, and Susan raises her eyebrows, sensing my question. “It’s just… why did you take him away?” I ask, lowering my voice to a whisper. “I don’t understand it. They seem so close… she obviously loves him, and he loves her.” I swallow hard. “He stood by the door for two hours, just waiting for her, when I told him she was coming to visit.”

“Yes, I can believe that.” Susan sounds so unsurprised, I have a sudden urge to shake her, or at least wipe that bland look off her face.

“So why did you separate them?” I ask, and I almost sound aggressive.

Susan just takes my tone in her stride; she must be used to it all by now.

“Did Dylan’s response to his mother seem at all… odd… to you?” she asks after a moment, her tone diffident.

“Odd?” I’m not sure what she wants me to say. “I mean, yes, I suppose it was a bit… intense. On both sides.”

“Yes.” Susan nods as if I’ve given the correct answer. “It’s my belief that their relationship has an unhealthy level of intensity. Beth has isolated Dylan from everyone but herself. She’s refused to allow him to go to school, to make friends, or even to receive the appropriate medical care he needs.”

I absorb this, trying to fit it in to what I know of Dylan, what I’ve seen of Beth. “Does he want to go to school?”

“I don’t think Dylan has ever been able to figure out what he wants,” Susan says quietly. “He’s so wrapped up in what Beth wants… in pleasing her, in following her unspoken rules.”

“But…” Something about it all doesn’t make sense. “Why did you take him away? I mean… how did you figure this all out?”

“It’s just guesswork at this point,” Susan concedes with a sigh. “Based on observation. I will be very interested to see how Dylan does away from Beth for a significant length of time. If he is able to thrive in school, as well as in a more regulated household. If the tantrums and shrieking stop, because he isn’t so anxious about Beth and her reactions.”

“That’s why he screams? Because of Beth?” That can’t be right, since he’s done it here, too.

“I think Dylan experiences a lot of anxiety,” Susan says. She sounds sad. “Anxiety that Beth, most likely unknowingly, feeds. I’m hopeful that, with the right support and therapy, he can begin to address those anxieties, and Beth can learn to recognize her own unhelpful behaviors.” Susan touches my hand briefly. “But we can talk more tomorrow, when we go through Dylan’s action plan. Thank you for everything, Ally. The lemonade was delicious.”

My mind is still spinning as I follow Susan downstairs. Beth is still in the family room with Dylan, and Susan suggests we sit in the living room, a room we hardly ever use, to give them some privacy. We sit stiffly on armchairs and make awkward chitchat while I instinctively strain to hear Beth’s murmurs from the other room.

Finally, after what feels like an age, Susan rises and heads back to the family room. After an uncertain moment, I follow. Susan tells Beth they need to go, and Beth looks stricken for a single moment before her expression hardens into resolve and she stands up, Dylan still clinging to her.

I realize the farewell is not going to go smoothly, and I have about six seconds to brace myself before Beth tells Dylan she has to go, and Dylan starts screaming. Beth is trying not to cry as she attempts to pry her son off her, and I stand there, feeling useless.