How It Happened

Chapter 21

Grace

Mister Antsy-Pants has been on his belly with his legs dangling off the couch, he's been scratching at the seat cushions… Apparently sitting still to watch a movie, even a short children's movie, is more than he can stand tonight. Elliot tries to be as polite as he can about this. "Christian, will you please stop? I'm trying to watch." Christian looks at him and settles down for a moment, but is back at it in less than a minute. Now, he's flopped onto his back and is kicking the coffee table with his feet. "Christian! Stop it, OK?" Elliot's voice alerts us that he is more than frustrated with him tonight. But the whole evening takes a turn for the worse when Christian's kicking continues and spills Elliot's treasured root beer, and Elliot apparently forgets his father and I are right here.

"Christian! That's it!" And it all happens so fast. Elliot reaches over my lap and hits Christian twice on the leg with a fist. Christian lets out a wail, and his arms start swinging. I'm not sure if he's reacting to the touch, trying to defend himself from Elliot, or trying to hit back but he makes contact with Elliot's neck. Elliot pulls back to hit him again. Luckily Carrick has intervened as I hear him yell for Elliot to stop, and his arm swoops him up to get him out of the area. Christian is still wailing, I hear Elliot start crying as Carrick's voice is reprimanding him for hitting…

I need to settle Christian but he seems back in that zone where he isn't even able to comprehend what I'm saying. Again I take his hands and lead him out of the area, noting as I do that the root beer has now spilled onto the rug. Great. I lead my darling little terror into the kitchen for another time out in the chair. Only this time, he's too out of sorts to get up into it. Finally, I just pick him up and sit him down. This only escalates the screeching as I've now touched him more than I ever have before.

He proceeds to throw one hell of a tantrum; well beyond what we saw earlier. He's swinging at me… Well, I think it's just at whatever happens to be closest. I don't think he's even comprehending who I am. The legs are kicking ferociously and I have to step to the side to stay out of their path. I regained control of his hands and hold them down on the arms of the chair so he stays in it. He could easily hurt himself, or me, if he throws himself onto the floor. This realization changes my mind about this time-out spot.

I pick up his hands and him along with them, but he's pulling the limp-body routine. So now I'm practically dragging him across the kitchen. He's not too heavy, but the kicking is not helping. Fine. I'm just going to do it. I pick him up again, this time cradled in my arms and head toward the living room. He's screeching louder and grunting and way out of control. I'm sure he's beyond upset about me holding him like this, but I need to get him somewhere softer.

Once in the living room, I set him down, manage to remove his shoes and let him pound away on the overstuffed chair. If he throws himself out of it, he'll land on the extra plush carpet. It's much softer than the tile of the kitchen, or even the carpet in the family room.

I step back and wonder where Carrick is, and how he's dealing with Elliot. I really could have used him a minute ago, but I guess with two boys in rare form, it's going to be a lot more 'divide and conquer' than with just one. I sit across from Christian and take stock of what he's doing. Somehow I'm managing to block out the intensity of the noise he's making; none of it actual words. I feel exhausted, and I wish I had his blanket around. I see a throw on the settee and think about letting him try that, but it's hand woven Irish wool. Nope.

Then I get an idea. If I can be louder than him, maybe he'll stop. It worked when El was little; he'd fuss and we'd make a slightly louder noise and he'd stop to listen. I'm not going to wail in my house, but I do have a piano. I open the lid, press the pedal and play a loud chord…

Miraculously, Christian stops for a second and looks around. When he sees me sitting on the bench, he gets mad and starts again. So I play it again, just a tad louder.

Again, he stops, if just for a moment. He tries getting louder again, but I play three different chords in a row. He's quiet. He's not starting again, but I continue to play. A few more chords, a short melody… His face is far from happy, but he's not screeching anymore…. More music… He takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh. I continue to play a bit without saying a word. He continues to listen. He leans back in the chair and just listens.

Carrick

What the hell?! Didn't I just have a conversation with Elliot, not one hour ago, about hitting? And now here we are, in my office, with him in the time-out chair for hitting. Fabulous. I do have to admit though, I was about ready to go off on Christian myself. Whatever is bothering him, he is out for blood. It's like he's just doing whatever he can to piss everyone off tonight.

"But Dad….!"

"That's enough. You know the rules about time-out."

"I didn't mean it! It was a accident…"

"You 'accidentally' reached over and punched Christian twice? Not going to work. Now not another word or we turn that chair and you face the corner!"

"I don't want…" he starts, but he sees my expression and stops himself from digging a deeper hole. Smart move, little boy. I'm in no mood right now. I do pick him up, chair and all and turn it toward the wall. If I said it, I have to do it.

I think time-out was invented so the parents get a chance to calm down. At least that's why I'm using it. Elliot was actually remorseful before we ever made it to my office, but self-preservation started the whining and lame excuses. An accident? Do kids really think we're that stupid? I hear him sniffling, trying not to cry, but he hates time-out. Which is why it works I guess.

I hear Christian's wailing getting slightly louder and can tell Grace has somehow gotten him out to the living room. I feel she needs my help, but I'm on Elliot duty right now. I know my son well enough to know there's no way he's staying in that chair unless I'm close enough to monitor the situation. Then I hear the piano and the wailing stops for a second. Hmm. Happy accident? Or do I just have a brilliant wife? I guess neither as the wailing starts again. More piano, more quiet, more wailing. More piano…. quiet little boy. Just piano. Wow. Way to go, Grace!

Just then I hear the phone. It's my office line. Of course. The last thing I am ready to deal with right now, is a business call. I think about letting it go to my answering machine, but for some reason I pick it up. "Carrick Grey." I'm not even listening to the voice on the other end, I'm too preoccupied on the piano out in the living room, listening for Christian's screeching, and watching Elliot rock back and forth in the time-out chair. "I'm sorry. I missed that. Could you repeat…?" I almost drop the phone. "Hang on, one moment, please." I head toward my door, addressing Elliot as I do. "You stay right there, young man. Got me?" His blond curls bounce in understanding, as I head out to the living room.

I see Grace on the piano bench playing softly now, watching Christian. He's sitting in my chair, eyes closed, rocking to the rhythm. "Gracie?" I whisper, too afraid to mess up the good thing she's got going here. "Um… Could you make it to my office, Sweetheart?" She whispers back.

"Carrick? I'm afraid to stop playing. Can whatever you need come out here?"

I think for a minute, then head back to my phone. As I walk back into the office, I see Elliot leaning his head forward on the wall, but he's still in the chair. That's all that I'm worried about right now. I pick up the receiver again. "Hey. Yeah. Can I call you right back on the house line? I don't have a portable phone in my office and I want Grace to hear this….. Great. Give me about thirty seconds."

I think about letting Elliot up, but I think it may be better if he's in here while we're on the phone out there. I get the portable from the kitchen and dial quickly. It's ringing as I head toward Grace at the piano. I want to put it on speaker, as I want this to be Grace and me right now. However, I also recognize the importance of her continuing to play. She gives me an odd confused look as I walk over to her with the phone.

"Hey again. OK, we're here." I hold the phone slightly away from my ear so Grace can hear too. "Go ahead Jackson." Grace jumps slightly when she hears it's Jackson, but manages to continue the music.

"You there Grace?" He asks. She replies with an 'uh-huh,' too nervous to say anything. "Well, we got Aaron Beckett's response." My heart is pounding, and I know Grace's is about to jump right out of her chest, but bless her heat, she's still playing. "You might want to think about redecorating that spare room, Grace. Not sure flowers and lace are going to be Christian's first choice for a decorating motif. Maybe airplanes or footballs…"

I feel my heart just race and Grace jumps up to hug me! We're almost screaming ourselves, which pulls Christian from his trance. However, he's not screeching or kicking. He's just watching us go mad with excitement!

"Elliot!" I call out, wanting him to be here with us too now.

"I didn't do it! I was in time-out!" We both laugh and call back for him to come to the living room with us. Christian is still giving us a confused expression as Elliot joins us. Grace has tears running down her face, and I realize I do too. It would probably be frightening for the boys if we weren't smiling and laughing so hard.

Grace picks up Elliot and swings him around while I finish with Jackson on the phone. He gives me a few details I'm going to have to call him about later as I'm not even really paying attention. All I need to know right now is, he's ours!