"I'm so impressed about how well her speech is coming along", Jesse commented, as he took a seat at the table. "She had no words- no, that's a lie, she could say 'mama'- when I met her but she's already saying so much".
Ivy could name almost their entire family when she saw a picture (admittedly it wasn't entirely clear to an outsider who she was talking about, but the first time Sheila had been referred to as 'Ma' she had cried), she could recognise red, blue and yellow (they were working on green, but it was clear that Ivy liked the colour purple better) and could point out both a square and a rectangle. She knew her name, and while she knew they lived in Barden, Georgia, she couldn't quite get the words out.
"Yeah, well I'm pretty proud of her". Beca smiled, watching as Ivy hauled her tea set off the bookshelf. "Look at her, she's actually playing".
Before Beca had her daughter, she had assumed that kids were born with the ability to play. Only she had found herself being very wrong. Ivy didn't know how to play. She had toys, she had all the toys (she was even a little spoilt, and by no fault of Beca's), but she didn't know what to do with them. And as hard as Beca had tried, she couldn't work out how to engage her kid in playing with them.
But Jesse and Ivy played. They played well together, and it was getting to the point where Ivy was willingly getting something out and sitting quietly with it, having a go of playing by herself (Beca almost always went over and joined her, because she was sure it was lonely by herself).
"You should be proud", Jesse nodded. "She's a good kid, Bec, she really is".
"What are you doing, Ivy?" Beca wanted to know, emerging from the bathroom to find Ivy hunched over a piece of paper. She was awkwardly gripping a pen between her fingers, trying to form shapes on the paper. "Are you drawing?"
"I door", Ivy agreed, nodding and holding up her pen to show her mother.
Beca smiled at the squiggles on the page- her daughter had never enjoyed colouring or drawing, despite Beca's best efforts. With Ivy's low muscle tone, she found what Beca had once thought to be simple fine motor skills, such as holding a pencil, difficult.
"Are you gonna be a little leftie like Mama?" Beca wanted to know, noticing how Ivy had the pen twisted in her left hand.
"Yeah".
"Jesse's a leftie as well, did you know that?"
Beca had found herself noticing little things. She always had, but she had started noticing more and more in the last few days. She blamed Chloe.
(She blamed Chloe for a lot of things.)
"He'll be here soon", she added as an afterthought. "Grandma and Grandpa asked if everyone wanted to come to Thanksgiving at the big house. Do you think that would be a good idea?"
Ivy didn't answer, instead sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she attempted something that could almost pass as a straight line.
"Ivy?" Beca prompted.
Ivy glanced at her, before going back to her piece of paper.
"We'll see what he's doing", Beca said quietly.
Jesse held up a photo. "Who's this, Ivy?"
"Mama".
Jesse grinned. "Good job! What about this one?"
"Pa".
"And this?"
"Ma".
"Who's this?"
"Lo".
"What about this one?"
"Bee".
Beca was sitting on the floor behind her bedroom door, her laptop opened but her ears on the work Jesse and Ivy were doing. A year ago, Ivy barely recognised her, let alone the rest of their family.
"Hey, do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" Beca wanted to know, as Jesse pushed Ivy's folder back onto the bookshelf.
"Um, I'm meant to be going back to New York to see my family, but I've got a bit of work to do so I might just hang around campus", he said after a moment.
"My parents- Dad and Sheila- are having a big Thanksgiving dinner at the big house, and they said that you're all invited. If you want, you can come". She shrugged a little, colour creeping into her cheeks. Jesse grinned a little.
"I'll let you know".
"Um, what's that?" Aubrey wanted to know, as Beca carried the plates into the house, Ivy trailing behind her.
"An autistic Thanksgiving dinner", Beca said without batting an eyelid. "Mac and cheese, peas and corn and chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs. Also known as dinner every single night of the freaking week".
"Right. And that other thing?"
"An apple pie". Beca sat the two plates on the kitchen counter, watching as Ivy surveyed the room and retreated to her little pink couch. "Don't push her, she's on edge today. Probably because I made her get dressed".
Aubrey raised an eyebrow at her and Beca chuckled a little. "My stepfather initiated a 'pyjamas at the dinner table' rule for Thanksgiving and Christmas a few years ago, and it's what we're used to. What she's used to, really".
Aubrey laughed. "Really?"
(Aubrey would have hated the holidays she shared with her family in Portland, Beca absolutely knew it. Because they were very relaxed and very casual, everything that Aubrey was not.)
"Yeah".
Holidays in Maine were very different to Georgian holidays, and while Beca knew she preferred Maine, Barden, Georgia was home at that point. It was what Ivy had gotten used to and until she was able to process the change, Beca wasn't going to uproot her.
"Did you consider going back to Maine for the holidays?" Aubrey questioned, and Beca shook her head.
"I'd like to, but I'm not dragging her across the country for the weekend. She's learnt her routine here, it would throw her completely. And it would mean a seventeen hour drive, which I'm not ready for, or a two and a half hour plane ride, which she's not ready for". Beca sighed a little. "One day we will though, then we'll go lots of places. Right kid?"
Ivy didn't even acknowledge her, from where she had curled herself up under a blanket on her little pink couch.
"Hey kiddo!" Chloe said brightly, breezing through the door. She grinned at Ivy, before dropping a kiss to the top of Beca's head. "Hey sweetie".
"Don't sweetie me, what's going on?" she said suspiciously and Chloe rolled her eyes.
"You need to relax", she informed her. "How's her therapy going?"
"Good- she can recognise shapes and colours now!"
While it was a milestone, a large amount of parents wouldn't be shrieking from the rooftops when they realised their kid knew the colour blue. But Beca was. She had called her mother to inform her, who had then informed her entire family. Her kid, her non-verbal kid, was starting to say words, and knew red, blue and yellow. She had something to shriek about.
"I'm so proud of her", Chloe said with a huge grin. "I'm so proud of you". And she kissed Beca's cheek noisily, the latter scrunching her face up in a complaint but grinning all the same.
"I thought Jesse was coming for Thanksgiving?" Michael said, glancing at his sister and frowning a little when he saw colour creep into her cheeks.
"He's gone to New York", she said smoothly, not missing a beat. "Ivy's having a few days off therapy anyway, because of the holidays".
"He's good for her", Michael said, waiting for a reaction. But Beca, stubborn Beca, didn't react.
"He really is".
Chloe glanced at Michael knowingly, because he too saw the chemistry between the pair. Jesse wasn't just good for Ivy; he was good for Beca too.
"Its time to go around the table and say what everyone is thankful for", Aubrey announced, as Will picked up the carving knife for the turkey.
"I'm thankful to have everyone here", Will said, smiling at Beca and she gave him a little smile.
"I'm thankful for Ivy", Beca said, which had been her answer every day since the day her daughter was born. "I'm thankful for every single day with that little weirdo".
"I love that strange little turtle girl", Chloe agreed, and Michael chuckled.
"Little weirdo".
"I'm thankful for Ivy as well", Sheila said with a smile. "I'm thankful for Ivy and my kids, and Chloe and Aubrey- you two may as well be my kid- and my husband. And to have everyone together for the holidays".
Halfway through the meal, Ivy, having eaten all of her peas and corn and most of her chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese (Beca offered her mashed potatoes and turkey and gravy, but she was met with a protesting shriek and a firm shake of her head), slid off her chair and padded into the kitchen.
"Ivy, back to the table please", Beca said firmly, setting down her fork. "Ivy Jane, you need to wait for everyone else to finish before you leave".
"She's fine, Beca".
"No, she needs to learn". Beca was about to stand up to find her kid, when Ivy padded back, something in her hand. She moved to stand next to Sheila, tugging gently on her arm. Sheila set down her knife and fork, looking intently at her granddaughter.
"Ivy", Beca said patiently. "Grandma hasn't finished her dinner yet".
"Appo". And Ivy held out the shiny red apple, Sheila taking it from her hands. Sheila picked up her knife, cutting off a slice, offering it to Ivy. She took it silently, carefully licking it before nibbling off the tiniest piece. Beca almost gasped, clapping her hands together. Ivy beamed at her, chewing her apple, and Beca held her arms out for her daughter.
"Mama's so proud of you", she whispered to the top of her hair, squeezing her so tight she made Ivy squeak.
Once everyone had eaten themselves into a near food coma, they retreated into the living room, where Michael put on the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade he had recorded earlier that day. Beca and Chloe squashed into one armchair, Michael and Aubrey taking another and Sheila and Will taking the couch.
It didn't take long for Beca to lose track of the time as their favourite floats were pointed out (Clifford the Big Red Dog had been her favourite since childhood, although Michael always argued with her that Santa Claus was the best).
"Is she asleep?" Michael said suddenly, and Beca glanced over to the little pink couch in the corner. Ivy was tucked into a ball, her iPad having fallen to the side, a fleecy blanket half pulled over her.
"Yeah, she's asleep". Beca glanced at the clock. "She should have a bath and Melatonin and her usual bedtime routine... but I think she'll be okay".
"She's done really well today", Will noted.
"Tomorrow might be another story". Beca smiled sadly. "No day is the same with that kid".
Their routine was kept exactly the same, day by day, even down to what they ate (Beca tried to have a variety in her diet, but she failed. Miserably). And yet it was set by Ivy's mood, which changed it.
By some miracle of God, when Beca heaved her up from the little couch and carried her to her own bed, Ivy stayed asleep. She shifted slightly as Beca placed the blanket on top of her, but didn't wake.
"Night Ivy boo", Beca said softly, turning the light off.
She knew it was late, and Jesse was probably sleeping like the rest of the world was, but she was wide awake, so she figured she had to share her news. In full capitals, because it was important, and he would understand.
IVY ATE AN APPLE. WILLINGLY.
The phone buzzing on his table startled him from his food coma, and he reached for it sleepily. But when he read the message, Jesse's eyes widened and he struggled to sit up to reply.
Really?! That's awesome Bec!
Beca grinned at his reply, knowing that he'd share her excitement.
(She'd texted Denise too, at an earlier hour, and while she had been happy, she hadn't reached the level that Beca was at.)
She didn't want to try any of the dinner Sheila made today but ate some apple so that doesn't matter. Maybe next year we can try turkey. She even went and got the apple herself! No one else understood what a big deal this is.
Jesse was so proud of the little girl. He was proud of all the kids he worked with, and rejoiced in all their milestones, but there was something very special about Ivy Ryerson. He couldn't pinpoint it, but he knew she was special.
It's a huge deal, that's a big milestone! I'm so proud of her. See, baby steps! She's getting there Beca... We'll have to get her to eat banana next
Jesse laughed out loud when he read Beca's response.
Don't push your luck Swanson