Karen Rock - His Hometown Girl

Jodi glared at Daniel Gleason.

He was even more handsome than he had been ten years earlier, and just as aggravating.

“You’ll be glad to go back to Chicago soon. Even if it is empty-handed,” he said.

“I agree with half that statement.” Daniel had charm and contacts, but she had the drive of needing something badly.

Daniel hopped up on his running board. “Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a matter of agreeing or disagreeing. We’re not playing on the same team anymore.”

“Have we ever?”

Their eyes locked for a breathless moment, both recalling when they had.

“This is different.”

He studied her for a long minute then waved before sliding inside the truck. “I know.”

As he began backing out of her aunt’s driveway, his eyes on her, she heard him shout, “This is war!”

Dear Reader,

My most important career is motherhood. Now that my daughter is applying to colleges and ready to leave the nest, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to be Mom. It is a miracle filled with joy, despair, frustration and–ultimately–fulfillment. I have a deep appreciation for the indomitable will of mothers to protect their children, to love them and to always keep them safe.

My sister Cathy personifies this type of parent. When Cathy’s daughter, Abbie, turned three, she was diagnosed with autism. I’m awestruck by my sister’s grace, strength and determination in helping Abbie grow into the beautiful young lady she’s become, a unique individual who takes me by surprise with her humor and outlook on life.

The idea that we do not need to meet society’s standards of “normal” or “perfect” to find happiness plays a large role in His Hometown Girl. What matters most is that we find joy in the life we’ve been given. Jodi, the single mother of her autistic son, Tyler, certainly deserves that happiness, which is why I gave them Daniel, a man who is strong enough to fight for his idea of the perfect family.

I would love to hear from you and learn your inspiring stories of parenting a special needs child. To contact me, please visit www.karenrock.com. Thanks!

Karen

His Hometown Girl

Karen Rock

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KAREN ROCK

Since Karen Rock’s grandmother passed her shopping bagfuls of Mills & Boon ®Modern™ novels as a teen, it’s been her dream to add her voice to the romance genre. Now an author for Mills & Boon’s latest contemporary line, Heartwarming, Karen is thrilled to pen wholesome, tender, deeply romantic and relatable stories. When she’s not busy writing, Karen enjoys watching anything starring Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, cooking her Nona’s Italian family recipes and occasionally rescuing local wildlife from neighborhood cats. She lives in the Adirondack Mountain region with her husband, her much-appreciated beta-reader daughter and two King Charles Cavalier cocker spaniels who have yet to understand the concept of “fetch,” though they know a lot about love. For more information about Karen’s upcoming books, check out her website at www.karenrock.com, or follow her on Facebook, at www.facebook.com/KarenRock-Writes, or on Twitter, www.twitter.com/KarenRock5. She’d love to hear from you!

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To the parents of children with special needs.

You are mighty warriors and the most loving caregivers. Please know that you are special, too.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

“TYLER, WHAT COLOR?”

Jodi Chapman peered from the blue card to the psychologist crouched before her autistic four-year-old, holding her breath. Please get this, Ty. A good evaluation meant entrance to this specialized school that would help him talk again.

But instead of responding, her towheaded only child yanked off his eyeglasses band and threw them at his feet. Her hopes fell with them.

“I’m sorry.” Jodi slung an arm around Tyler before he bolted for the train table. She’d known it’d be hard for him to focus when he’d pointed to it after entering Wonders Primary’s playroom. Her mouth felt like a desert as Beth’s pen scratched across the evaluation sheet. After an hour of assessments, Tyler wanted out when they desperately needed in.

“May I ask what you’re writing, Beth?” She struggled to put on Tyler’s glasses with one hand while holding him in place with the other. “Tyler, you can play with the trains in a little bit.” As a single mom, she wished she had three arms instead of two. Yet even that wouldn’t be enough some days. If only this wasn’t one of them.

“Keeping his glasses on will be a behavior goal if he attends school here this fall.” Beth lowered her clipboard, her khaki pants and green polo shirt lacking the wrinkles embedded in Jodi’s suit.

Jodi dragged in a deep breath and held Tyler tighter as he escalated from resistance to flailing.

If. Beth had said “if.” Jodi inhaled the childhood smells of crayons, apple juice and glue, her gaze darting around the vibrant room that’d be perfect for her son. Warm sunlight streamed from a round skylight, illuminating a large foam-sided circle that resembled a kiddie pool, filled with books and toys. A child-size cardboard castle stood beside a trunk overflowing with dress-up clothes. Floor puzzle pieces lead to its entrance. It was a far cry from the small apartment where her kind neighbor cared for Tyler.

Six children rocked and fidgeted on a circle of colored rug squares while their teacher read them a story. Aides walked the group’s perimeter, pulling some of the children’s hands away from their ears while others applied shoulder pressure to those flapping their hands.

“Show me the blue train, Tyler.” The psychologist pointed to the table and held out a hand, but Tyler batted it away.

“No hitting, Ty.” Jodi felt her lower eyelid twitch. The break in Tyler’s daily routine unsettled and overexcited him, the perfect storm for lashing out, poor baby.

“Do you want to play trains?” Beth tried again.

The psychologist tucked her clipboard under her arm at Tyler’s nod and headed toward the table. Before following, he squeezed Jodi’s knees, the sweet, unexpected gesture catching at her heart.

She blinked back tears when he wobbled on tiptoe after Beth and picked up a green train instead of the blue. Green was his favorite color. It might be the wrong answer for the evaluation, but it was right for him. Her chest tightened when the psychologist frowned and scribbled something on her clipboard, a brief glimpse showing a heavily marked page. Jodi imagined the comments. If only Wonders Primary knew the boy who patted her cheek until he fell asleep, the one who dressed Ollie, his stuffed elephant, in different outfits every day, the child who’d cried for a week after his father had walked out, and then never spoke again. Guilt churned in her stomach like a live thing.