Read Online House Rules by Jodi Picoult - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jodi Picoult
Tags: Fiction, Literary, General, Suspense, Psychological, Mystery & Detective, Family Life, Murder, Murder - Investigation, Forensic sciences, Autistic youth, Asperger's syndrome
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believe in vaccines, I do. I just believe in spreading them out.
It is because of Jess Ogilvy that Jacob went to his junior prom.
It was not something I ever expected him to do, to be honest. There are a lot of moments I used to consider definites for a child of mine that, after Jacob‘s diagnosis, became
wishes instead. Going to college. Holding down a job. Finding someone to love him. I suppose Theo bears the brunt of all my dreams. I hope for Jacob to blend into the world more seamlessly, but I hope for his brother to leave his mark.
Which is why, when Jacob announced last spring that he planned to go to his Spring Fling, I was surprised. With whom? I asked.
Well, Jacob said. Jess and I haven‘t quite worked that out yet.
I could see why Jess had suggested it: the photographs, the dancing, the table conversation all of these were skills he needed to know. I agreed with her, but I also didn‘t want to see Jacob hurt. What if no one he asked would go with him?
Don‘t think I‘m a bad mother; I‘m just a realistic one. I knew that Jacob was handsome, funny, and so smart it sometimes left me reeling. It was hard, though, for others to see him in that light. To them, he just seemed odd.
That night, I went into Jacob‘s room. The pleasure of seeing him excited for once about initiating a social interaction was tempered by the thought of a string of girls laughing in his face. So, I said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. I waited for him to put down his reading material the Journal of Forensic Sciences . The prom, huh?
Yes, he said. Jess thinks it‘s a good idea.
How about you? Do you think it‘s a good idea?
Jacob shrugged. I guess. But I‘m a little worried …
I seized on this. About what?
My date‘s dress, Jacob said. If it‘s orange, I don‘t think I could deal with it.
A smile tugged at my mouth. Trust me. No girl wears orange to a prom. I picked at a thread on his blanket. Is there any particular girl you‘re thinking of asking?
No.
No?
That way I won‘t be disappointed, he said, matter-of-fact.
I hesitated. I think it‘s terrific that you‘re trying this. And even if it doesn‘t work out
Mom, Jacob interrupted, of course it will work out. There are 402 girls in my school. Assuming that one of them finds me remotely attractive, the probability of getting one of them to say yes is statistically in my favor.
As it was, he had to ask only 83. One finally said yes Amanda Hillerstein, who had a younger brother with Down syndrome and was kindhearted enough to see past Jacob‘s Asperger‘s, at least for one night.
What ensued was a two-week crash course in prom etiquette. Jess worked with Jacob to make small talk during dinner. (Appropriate: Are you visiting colleges this summer? Inappropriate: Did you know there‘s a place in Tennesseecalled the Body Farm where you can study how corpses decay? ) Me, I worked with him on everything else. We practiced how to walk close to a girl instead of keeping a full foot of space between you.
We practiced how to look at the camera when someone takes your photograph. We practiced how to ask your date if she‘d like to dance, although Jacob drew the line at slow dancing ( Do I really have to touch her?).
The day leading up to the prom, a thousand pitfalls raced through my head. Jacob had never worn a tuxedo; what if the bow tie aggravated him and he refused to put it on?
He hated to bowl because he disliked the thought of putting his feet in shoes that had housed someone else‘s feet moments before. What if he pitched a fit about his rented patent leather loafers for the same reason? What if the prom decorating committee had not gone with an under the sea theme, like they‘d planned, but a disco party instead with flashing lights and mirrored balls that would overstimulate Jacob‘s senses? What if Amanda wore her hair loose, and Jacob took one look at her and ran back up to his room?
Amanda, bless her heart, had offered to drive since Jacob
It is because of Jess Ogilvy that Jacob went to his junior prom.
It was not something I ever expected him to do, to be honest. There are a lot of moments I used to consider definites for a child of mine that, after Jacob‘s diagnosis, became
wishes instead. Going to college. Holding down a job. Finding someone to love him. I suppose Theo bears the brunt of all my dreams. I hope for Jacob to blend into the world more seamlessly, but I hope for his brother to leave his mark.
Which is why, when Jacob announced last spring that he planned to go to his Spring Fling, I was surprised. With whom? I asked.
Well, Jacob said. Jess and I haven‘t quite worked that out yet.
I could see why Jess had suggested it: the photographs, the dancing, the table conversation all of these were skills he needed to know. I agreed with her, but I also didn‘t want to see Jacob hurt. What if no one he asked would go with him?
Don‘t think I‘m a bad mother; I‘m just a realistic one. I knew that Jacob was handsome, funny, and so smart it sometimes left me reeling. It was hard, though, for others to see him in that light. To them, he just seemed odd.
That night, I went into Jacob‘s room. The pleasure of seeing him excited for once about initiating a social interaction was tempered by the thought of a string of girls laughing in his face. So, I said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. I waited for him to put down his reading material the Journal of Forensic Sciences . The prom, huh?
Yes, he said. Jess thinks it‘s a good idea.
How about you? Do you think it‘s a good idea?
Jacob shrugged. I guess. But I‘m a little worried …
I seized on this. About what?
My date‘s dress, Jacob said. If it‘s orange, I don‘t think I could deal with it.
A smile tugged at my mouth. Trust me. No girl wears orange to a prom. I picked at a thread on his blanket. Is there any particular girl you‘re thinking of asking?
No.
No?
That way I won‘t be disappointed, he said, matter-of-fact.
I hesitated. I think it‘s terrific that you‘re trying this. And even if it doesn‘t work out
Mom, Jacob interrupted, of course it will work out. There are 402 girls in my school. Assuming that one of them finds me remotely attractive, the probability of getting one of them to say yes is statistically in my favor.
As it was, he had to ask only 83. One finally said yes Amanda Hillerstein, who had a younger brother with Down syndrome and was kindhearted enough to see past Jacob‘s Asperger‘s, at least for one night.
What ensued was a two-week crash course in prom etiquette. Jess worked with Jacob to make small talk during dinner. (Appropriate: Are you visiting colleges this summer? Inappropriate: Did you know there‘s a place in Tennesseecalled the Body Farm where you can study how corpses decay? ) Me, I worked with him on everything else. We practiced how to walk close to a girl instead of keeping a full foot of space between you.
We practiced how to look at the camera when someone takes your photograph. We practiced how to ask your date if she‘d like to dance, although Jacob drew the line at slow dancing ( Do I really have to touch her?).
The day leading up to the prom, a thousand pitfalls raced through my head. Jacob had never worn a tuxedo; what if the bow tie aggravated him and he refused to put it on?
He hated to bowl because he disliked the thought of putting his feet in shoes that had housed someone else‘s feet moments before. What if he pitched a fit about his rented patent leather loafers for the same reason? What if the prom decorating committee had not gone with an under the sea theme, like they‘d planned, but a disco party instead with flashing lights and mirrored balls that would overstimulate Jacob‘s senses? What if Amanda wore her hair loose, and Jacob took one look at her and ran back up to his room?
Amanda, bless her heart, had offered to drive since Jacob
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