Even now.
I unlocked the door and she launched herself at me, swinging her fists and driving them into my body. She was only nine, but she hit like a trained fighter, the impact forcing the breath out of me.
“Evie…” I wheezed, grasping my stomach, but while I was down for the count, the man swooped in.
I didn’t know who this guy was or even his name, but he grabbed Evie under her arms and carried her, kicking and screaming, inside. I already felt like the lowest kind of criminal after what had happened today, but watching this? One tear rolled free, a frantic little sob escaping me, right as I hurried after them.
“This is a safe space,” the man said, in the doorway of a room that looked like a war zone. The room and the furnishings looked like they were beaten within an inch of their lives and everything was covered with graffiti. “You can go nuts in here and you won’t hurt anything, especially yourself. Let it all out, kid.”
And with that, he shoved her in and then shut the door, a lock quickly engaging.
“Evie!” I yelped, my hands going to the glass window as I peered inside. Her expression, when she considered the room, was one of complete and utter betrayal. I strode over to the door and went to yank it open, but the guy shook his head.
“I’m Brock,” he said, holding out a hand, but I just stared at it, then growled at him to unlock the door. “I can, but she needs to unload. Out here, she’s going to hurt herself and you. Trust the process.”
And as if on cue, Evie unleashed.
At first, she picked up pillows and threw them across the room. When that wasn’t sufficient, she clawed open the pillows, scattering foam and fabric everywhere.
“Oh god…” I said, my hand going to my lips.
“Don’t worry about it,” Brock reassured me. “That’s what they’re there for.”
She created a veritable cloud of torn upholstery, but that still wasn’t enough. A chair was picked up and then slammed into the window, all while she screamed for me. I jerked back at the impact, but Brock just shook his head.
“The glass is shatterproof, so she won’t smash anything, but damn, she’s got some strength on her for a beta.”
“She’s an alpha,” I snapped.
“Yeah?” He didn’t seem to need any further explanation, which was a first. Usually, everyone had opinions about that statement. “Look, you want a tea or a coffee or something? She’s wound up pretty tight and is gonna need some time to settle down. I can even rustle up a beer if you like.”
“No.” My voice broke on the word. “No, I’m fine.”
But I wasn’t, was I? As had happened so often since having my baby, I was paddling with all my might, trying to keep afloat, but still drowning in everything I felt.
Chapter 11
We first worked out that Evie might be a little different to other children when she was about seven months old. She started walking early, her physical milestones met before the average beta child. But with that came a kind of independence none of us had been prepared for. Children are naturally wilful when it comes to many age appropriate things. If they didn’t insist on feeding themselves or doing their own buttons up, when would we stop doing it for them? But Evie… She was different again.
Her first words were “I do it!”, at least that’s what we think. Carmen’s house was a chaotic mess of toys, nappies, and tantrums. Her neighbours started complaining the first time Evie totally lost her shit, and that didn’t stop, not until we moved out into a more family-friendly suburb. And to be honest, I couldn’t blame them. She screamed like a banshee, louder and for longer than I would’ve thought possible. And that’s when I’d learned the terrible skill.
Early on I’d held her flailing little body against mine, jiggling her gently and repeating “shh… shh… shh…” over and over again, as I’d been taught through the baby whisperer type books I was reading. But when that didn’t work, Carmen had me see a psychologist friend. I’d tried a rigid sleep schedule, co-sleeping, and sensory toys. Finally, when the psych had seen an Evsplosion for herself, she gave me the hardest advice to take.
“Set her down, make sure she’s safe and that you are, too.” That part stung. “And then let her get on with it,” the woman insisted. “The meltdown has a beginning, a middle, and an end. We’ll keep trying to find triggers, so we don’t get to the beginning in the first place, but once they’ve been triggered?” She shrugged then, her sheepish smile seeming to acknowledge the lack of answers she was giving me. “With other children that have meltdowns, often we just have to create a safe space for that to just run its course.”
So I was all of nineteen when I’d been forced to set Evie down on a soft mat or in her cot and just sit there, tears in my eyes, as she screamed and flailed and threw herself around. Afterwards, I’d scoop her up and hold her close, so limp in my grip. Then she’d snuggle in tight, in exactly the way she hadn’t been able to beforehand, and just let go.
I stood at the window and watched my daughter trash the room, feeling grateful she could do so in a space like this, even if I felt guilty about the fact she needed to. Brock pulled away, said he’d grab me a bottle of water, and I just nodded absently. I couldn’t help her right now, something that put my teeth on edge, but I’d watch and wait. Nothing was going to pull my focus away from my baby, at least, not until I my phone vibrated in my pocket to let me know I had a call.
“Hey, it’s me,” Soph said. “Just thought I’d touch base. The grapevine, it’s been humming.”
“Great,” I replied, wanting to say more, but unable to. My throat felt thick and tight.
“How are you?” There was knowledge there, in her tone. She would be able to hear a muffled Evie raging down the line, I’m sure. “I’ve got a client meeting in about fifteen, but I can be with you in an hour, or I can get Mum if you need backup.”
“No, don’t.”
Sophie had graduated as a lawyer and was still working her way up the ladder career wise. While, in theory, she could leave the office without penalty, it wasn’t smart to do so. So usually I held off on asking her, not unless real emergencies arose.