Author: Evidence
Chapter: 8
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: If you have never been to an IEP meeting, this is what one is like (at least in my district). Thanks again for the reviews and things are slowly starting to get better.
Coffee was set up on a nearby table but she didn't feel like taking any. He was late, late to their son's IEP meeting. Anger was brewing and she kept her fingers curled around the cloth chair in order to keep it in check. "I'm sure he'll be here any minute." She said it with a smile but bore anger inside.
He rushed in then, fixing his glasses on his face and taking a seat. "I'm sorry," he looked first at Sara's face and then at the school officials. "I specialize in bugs and a case came up where…"
"Can we get started," Sara said interrupting him, "seeing you need to get back to work."
"That would be fine," Dylan's teacher interjected.
"Okay, I'll start with the introductions. My name is Hanna Kincaid; I'm the Special Education Coordinator here. I work with grades K and 1."
"You don't deal with the upper grades?" Grissom questioned.
"No, we have two more coordinators who evaluate students in 2, 3 and 4, 5 respectively. "
"So there are many special education kids here?" Grissom asked.
"There are many special kids all over." Mrs. Kincaid emphasized the special.
"Well, guess it's my turn. You know me, Diane Rubin, Dylan's teacher." Sara and Grissom smiled.
"I'm last I guess," the red headed man let out a laugh, "I'm Paul Chambers, the Guidance Consoler here."
Mrs. Kincaid wrote something on her pad. "Our Speech Pathologist is unable to attend, a family emergency but Annie left us her written report and I will read it later. Josh Berkins, our OT/PT person will be here shortly, he had another IEP meeting to attend."
"OT/PT means occupational therapy/physical therapy?" Sara asked.
"Yes, I'm sorry you get so use to speaking the jargon you forget to explain what it means." Mrs. Kincaid pulled out a large manila folder. "First please sign your names on this sheet."
A paper was placed in front of Sara and Grissom. They hesitantly signed it.
"Now let's talk about how Dylan is doing right now and what goals we want to set for him in the future. First of, academics." Mrs. Kincaid nodded her head as some secret code to Dylan's teacher.
"Dylan is a wonderful young man," she began as both parents smiled. "He can remember placement, ideas, about 6 times out of ten."
As Mrs. Rubin spoke, Mrs., Kincaid hurriedly wrote in the manila folder.
"His oral language skills are lacking. He can tell the difference of some constant clusters but has trouble with vowel placement. Dylan has…"
Mrs. Rubin continued but Grissom couldn't hear her. His mind was swirling with the teacher language thrown at him. He understood what she was saying for he had read up on the subject but was at a lost for what it all meant. Could they help Dylan or not?
The meeting continued for another hour with Mrs. Kincaid franticly scribbling, Mrs. Rubin telling them what Dylan could do which was low compared to his peers, listening to the OT/PT person who had finally arrived give his report. Sara felt like crying but she couldn't let herself in front of these strangers.
The jest of the IEP meeting was that Dylan was below level, that he would be put on an Indivualized Enrichment Plan, that he would have accommodations made, that he would be graded differently than everyone else, that he would not be normal.
Mrs. Kincaid held up the written IEP. "Last thing, as his parents what are your goals for Dylan?"
Sara and Grissom looked at each other. Grissom addressed the team, "We just want him to be able to do the best that he can."
Mrs. Kincaid smiled. "We will type this up for you and you will be given a copy each. You are still living at separate addresses?"
Sara looked at the floor. "Yes."
"Okay, are there any questions you have?"
Grissom began. "Why does Dylan need a guidance consular?"
Mr. Chambers sighed. "He is going through a difficult time. If he needs someone to talk to I'll be there."
"A difficult time? With school?" Grissom asked.
They exchanged looks. Chambers spoke, "Not with school, not this year. No, he's having problems dealing with your separation."
"He's said that?" Sara looked exasperated.
"Yes, he talks with me a few times a week."
"Why were we not informed of this?" Grissom grew angry.
"Mr. Grissom, all children are allowed to speak with me if they just want to tell me about their new puppy or something more important. I did not go to him, he came to me."
"He went to you?" Grissom could not believe that his son choose to tell his problems to someone outside their circle of friends. He could have talked to Nick or Catherine. But he didn't. Grissom realized that Dylan did not want his parents to know he was upset; he was trying to protect them.
"Is there anything we can do for him?" Sara felt the perspiration at her neck.
"Just reassure him that you love him, tell them that although you may not be together you will always be there for him. Children need security." Chambers straightened his tie.
Mrs. Rubin asked, "Any other questions?"
"You have said what Dylan is capable now and what his goals are but the goals seem rather easy to reach. They seem to be just basic stuff he should be able to do." Sara shifted in her seat.
"Nothing will be easy for Dylan. These goals or benchmarks are challenging for him, he might not reach them and if he doesn't we will modify the IEP."
"Not easy, Mrs. Kincaid? How can that be?" Sara picked up on the IEP sheets and read; "Dylan will be able to write a sentence with a subject and verb. That is supposed to be a challenge?"
"It will be a challenge for him. With the type of brain injury he has and the doctor records we have been given, it will take Dylan a long time to form a complete sentence. Most children can write complete sentences by the end of first grade. So for Dylan it will probably take until third to master it."
Sara bit at her lip. Grissom fumbled with his fingers, not sure what to say.
"So are you telling me that Dylan will forever be behind his peers?" Sara asked.
"Bluntly, yes," Kincaid started, "We will modify his education so that he will progress and learn. I predict he will do quite well…"
"But he'll never be doing the same work as everyone else." The words came softly out of Sara's mouth.
"Yes." Kincaid stopped with that statement.
"Thank you for being honest." Grissom felt he had to contribute something. "Have you completed the intelligence test on him?"
"Yes, we have," Mrs. Rubin took over, "I'm afraid he didn't score that well."
"What was his average?"
Mrs. Rubin sighed as she looked at the sheet in front of her. "His IQ is at 86. He is slightly above mentally challenged."
Sara stood up. Her breath was coming rapidly out of her throat. "I'm sorry, I need some air." She hurried out of the conference room.
"I better follow her, excuse me." Grissom left.
He found her outside by a tree in the recess yard. She was shaking uncontrollably, her whole body moving with her tears. Grissom put his arms around her and held her tight to his chest. He spoke in a soothing tone trying to reassure her that everything would turn out all right.
Eventuality she raised her head. "You knew this all along, didn't you?"
Grissom nodded.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You weren't ready to listen."
She wiped at her eyes and he handed her a handkerchief. "God, they must think I'm some emotional sap.'
"I think they are use to this type of reaction." Grissom pushed back her hair with his hand.
"Poor Dylan. He'll never be normal."
"No."
"What are we going to do? How can we help him?"
"We can love him." Grissom gave her a small smile. "Come on, let's go visit with our boy and then I'll take you home."
"I have my car here.'
"You are in no condition to drive."
"Then I probably shouldn't see Dylan either." She pressed her palms to her face obscuring it.
Grissom could hear her tears again. "Maybe we shouldn't visit Dylan right now, let me just take you home. I'll ask Nick and Warrick if they would get your Tahoe when they're heading to work, okay?"
She shook her head. With a guiding hand, he led her to his waiting vehicle.
Her fingers, clumsy from stress, created difficulty when fastening her seat belt. Grissom reached over and pushed it into place until he could hear the snap.
"Thanks," she managed to get out.
He started the engine and begin heading for the destination. "You know some kids improve by leaps and bounds when they are in a loving environment."
"Poor Dylan he's really fucked then."
"Sara…"
"Sorry, sorry, I guess I'm just cranky right now."
"You're upset."
"Yes, are you?" She looked at him.
"Yes but I've had more time to prepare. I realized right away what life for Dylan would be like."
"I guess you were right, I was living in some fantasy." She turned her gaze to the streets they were passing.
"Fantasies are not awful to be in. Just not realistic." Grissom breathed deeply.
"Thank God you're a realist." The sarcasm was not lost on him.
They sat in silence until the house approached. "We're home." He let it slip out without a conscious thought.
"One of us is." Sara rubbed at her forehead.
"I'm sorry about today, Sara." He reached over and lightly touched her shoulder.
"Me, too." She started out of the Tahoe and then stopped. "Grissom, would you like to stay for dinner? I need a ride to pick up Dylan from school anyways."
"Do you really want me to?" He was surprised at the invitation.
"Yeah, we are both upset. We both love Dylan. Maybe we need to be together tonight."
"Um, Sara…"
"I don't mean it that way," she couldn't help but smirk, "I meant dinner, you know food that is eaten around 6 o'clock."
"I've heard of the concept." He smiled back. What the hell? They could both commiserate for the rest of the afternoon and then he could pick Dylan up from school and have dinner. Then off to work. What could be bad about that?
Shutting the SUV off, Grissom exited the vehicle and walked beside Sara to the front door.
Inside he saw a mess on the kitchen table, plaster mix, paper, paint. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Oh, Greg told Dylan about a volcano that he made when he was Dylan's age. So of course Dylan wants a volcano so I'm making it for him."
"Can I help?"
"Sure, let me get out of this suit."
"That's a lovely suit on you Sara."
She tried to avoid his eyes. "Thank you."
She changed quickly avoiding looking in the mirror and the horrible reflection that would be staring back at her. When Sara returned to the kitchen, Grissom had already put together one side of the volcano.
"Having fun?"
He smiled as he looked up. "Yes, I am."
She sat down at the other side of the kitchen and began stirring the plaster mix.
"Sara, why don't you grab yourself a glass of wine and relax a little. You've had a stressful day."
"Maybe I should." She left the table and grabbed a bottle of Bordeaux from the cupboard. "Would you like a glass?"
"Better not, I have to pick Dylan up in a little bit." His eyes were fixed on a patch of paper that would not stay flat.
Sara sipped the wine and watched Grissom work. Her heart ached to have him back at the house even though it was only temporary. She loved to see him engrossed in a project: glasses half on his nose, tongue poking slightly out of his mouth, glint of energy in his eyes. She missed him. Missed not having him at home, missed not waking up beside him, missed not talking to him, missed being a family. A tear escaped but she brushed it away before he noticed.
Soon the volcano was done and Sara had drowned two glasses of wine.
"Now for the final touch," Grissom grabbed from the fridge a jar of pasta sauce.
"What are you doing?" Sara asked with a frown knowing full well there would be a mess she would be picking up later.
"Well every volcano needs it's lava," he proceeded to poor some sauce over the brown sides of the volcano.
"You know you could have just used paint or markers and get the same effect."
"But this looks more realistic."
"That volcano will never last now once the paper is soaked with sauce, it will just fall apart Griss." She shook her head.
"Have a little faith, I do know what I'm doing."
"Okay, but you'll have to explain it Dylan when it doesn't last."
"It will last, Sara."
Sara
just sighed instead of getting into a fight over a volcano. "Oh, you should be getting Dylan now."
"On my way. I'll be home in a bit." As the words came out he averted his face from hers. Why had he said that? With that he left to pick up Dylan.
Dylan was quite pleased to have both of his parents eating his dinner of fish and chips with him. To Sara it seemed like some dream, like it couldn't possibly be true that her and Grissom were breaking bread and making pleasant conversation. Grissom was overjoyed at the feeling of family again and secretly wished he didn't have to leave.
After dinner was completed, Grissom stood up. "I have to go to work. Nick and Warwick will bring you back the Tahoe. Thank you for dinner, I had a real nice time."
Sara smiled back.
"Don't go." Dylan's lip quavered.
Grissom spoke his thoughts out loud. "I know, I wish I wasn't leaving, too."
He saw the look of shock sweep over Sara's face. Hugging his son he began heading to his waiting SUV.
Sara caught up with him. "Griss!"
He turned suddenly feeling his heart rate increase.
"Why don't you come back after your shift. You…you can have breakfast with us before I go to work and Dylan heads to school." Her palms were sweaty and she wiped them on her jeans.
Grissom thought for a moment. "Okay, I'll be by."
Sara smiled and watched him get into the Tahoe. Before he drove off, he waved, Sara returning the acknowledgement.
To be continued…(See it gets happier)
