“Allison…can I make you some tea while we go over Callie’s routine? I already have some water boiled.”

Again, this place was like heaven.

I did not get the impression that Bettina had any clue that I was the same person her son inquired about for the job information and figured Cedric never used my name.

“Yes, I’d love some,” I smiled. Tea sounded good and maybe it would calm my nerves. For some reason, I was not as 198/727

freaked out as I might have figured I’d be in this situation. Cedric’s mother actually seemed like a really nice lady with a very re-assuring tone.

As she prepared the tea, I looked around curiously. The kitchen, as did the rest of the house, seemed to have a cozy country feel, with lots of reds and greens with floral curtains and plaid seat pillows. It was homey but small, so I assumed it was just Callie and her mother who lived here.

“May I use your bathroom?” I decided I really had to go and figured since she was preparing the tea, this would be my window.

“Sure, dear, it’s back down the hall, last door on the left. Before you go, would you like black or green tea?”

“Green will be perfect. Thanks so much,” I said as I got up and walked down the hallway.

Before I opened the bathroom door, I noticed some family pictures on the living 199/727

room wall diagonally across from the bathroom. I scurried over to the framed picture collage hoping she wouldn’t notice since I heard her clanking things back in the kitchen.

There he was.

If this wasn’t confirmation that I was in Cedric’s mother’s house, I don’t know what was.

The picture I focused in on appeared to be a photo of a younger Cedric on what looked like his high school graduation day.

The same beautiful eyes were framed by even longer, shaggier hair. Cedric was flanked by his mother, father and whom I assumed was his brother. He had the biggest most beautiful smile and looked so happy. I immediately felt sad, remembering that during our car ride he mentioned that his father had passed away a few years earlier. Cedric was tall like his father and had his blue eyes. But his 200/727

facial features and smile resembled his mother overall.

I didn’t want to take too much time staring at the picture, in case Bettina wondered what the hell I was so interested in her family for, so I entered the bathroom.

I splashed a small amount of water on my face to help calm me down from the surprise of this situation and quickly peed. I washed my hands and walked back out and down the hall.

Bettina had placed my tea in front of my seat in a beautiful ornate yellow ceramic mug and had her legs crossed sitting in the chair relaxed across from me and began to speak.

“Ok, Allison, so basically you met my daughter. You can see that she likes to be in her own world most of the time. What I hope when someone comes to work with Callie, is that they help to structure her time to make the most of it. I don’t want her just sitting 201/727

there rocking back and forth, looking at online videos, like she does when she is alone.

It’s really hard to break her out of her shell. I want you to try and play with her… try to get her to speak…I know it’s not easy getting her attention…the autism assures that. But you can read to her or try to get her to sound out the words, things like that. A group of her favorite books are in a large basket in her room. She can read many sight words but she just can’t always comprehend complex themes. So, she may not answer you if you ask what generally happened in the book, but might answer a simple question like ‘what are the characters doing in the picture?’

I nodded silently, as she continued.

“I’ll also have you sit with her and make sure she eats appropriately and puts away and washes her dishes. She also does some light chores likes recycling and swiffer-ing the floors. She works at the library sort-ing books, accompanied by her other staffer 202/727

on Mondays and Wednesdays, but you don’t need to worry about that since you are here Tuesdays and Thursdays. What questions do you have at this point?” Bettina looked at my quizzically.

I had so many questions.

“How much detail can she relay about what she wants?” I asked.

“A bit. Simple requests are her strength in terms of communication. She can say ‘I want’ and then list the item or even describe it somewhat. For example, ‘I want red sweater cat’ might mean I want the red sweater that has the black cat on it. Eye contact is a problem though. She doesn’t like to look at people.”

Bettina sipped her tea and then reached out for my hand, which startled me and continued. “You’ll get used to her, get a feel for what she likes. I can tell you will be great with her.”

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Smiling, I said, “Thanks for the vote of confidence. What should I do with her for starters today?”

“Why don’t you just sit in her room with her for a while. Let her get used to your being there. Then, in about an hour, I can show you what her dinner routine is like.”

“Sounds good.”

I followed Bettina into Callie’s room and she quickly backed out and shut the door. I think she was intentionally separating herself so that I didn’t feel pressure from her watching me. I appreciated it because I was extremely intimidated by this situation, which left me feeling clueless.

I sat on the bed next to Callie, on a pretty Pottery Barn floral quilt. She continued to look at You Tube, but this time she was focused on a video that played television station identification music backwards. It looked to be vintage music from the cable station

Nickelodeon.

She

would

keep

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rewinding it to the same point in the middle playing the same three-second chime over and over again. I was fascinated that she actually found this entertaining and that she never once acknowledged that I was sitting next to her. She could have cared less that I was there, if she even realized it.

I decided to just sit next to her for a while and not say anything. Maybe she would eventually look at me or ask me for something. I looked around her room at the various pictures hanging on the wall, some butterflies, some drawings of stick people in crayon, some marker scribbled right on the wall.

There was one cluster of photos that particularly stunned me.

There on a bulletin board above her headboard was a collage of the CNN anchor Anderson Cooper. Yes, the Silver Fox. Apparently, Callie had the hots for him or something. It was such a strange contrast to 205/727

the Dora the Explorer dolls and grade school board books that lay strewn on the floor.

There were pictures of Anderson Cooper posing with other celebrities, headshots of him and an autographed picture.

I then decided to try something. I suddenly grabbed the iPad from Callie. She finally looked at me…like I was pointing a gun at her.

I quickly typed into the You Tube search bar: Anderson Cooper. Hundreds of search results displayed on the screen and I selected one that said Anderson Cooper Cracks Up During Newscast.

I pressed play.

Callie spotted Anderson right away and yanked the iPad from my hands.

Upon the first sight of Anderson losing control and laughing hysterically in the clip, Callie started jumping up and down on the bed frantically, with a look of utter excitement. She began to smile and then…a 206/727

volcanic eruption of laughter came out of her.

I stopped the video, barely containing my own laughter at her response. And she looked at me.

“Callie, what do you want?” I asked holding the device.

“Anderson,” she said looking at the iPad.

“Ask better,” I said.

“I want Anderson,” she replied, her eyes still glued to the screen.

“Good!” I said and played the video again.