Special Needs

Chapter 2: The Arrival

~One Month Later~

I stepped off the plane and into Vancouver's welcoming embrace. After the interview with Theodore two weeks ago, I had spent a bit of time exploring the city and found that I loved it. I couldn't wait for my vacation days so I could continue to investigate at my leisure.

After picking up my luggage, I scanned the thinning crowd for my ride. I finally spotted him, a tall black man wearing a black leather coat and sunglasses. The glasses I could understand but not the leather jacket in June. The obvious sign was literally a sign that read Juliette McGill.

I walked up to him and said, "Hi, I'm Juliette."

"I know," he deadpanned. He took my suitcase handle and turned, saying, "Follow me."

He'd clearly been trained by Theodore Styles. When I had originally flown here to interview with the man, I was a bit shocked at his very stiff and formal persona. He hadn't asked much of me, only perused my resume and references while he sipped an espresso, barely making eye contact. When he finished, he simply said, "Assuming  your references check out, you're hired. I will make arrangements for you to arrive in two weeks."

What could I say, really, except Yes, I'll take your job and care for your special needs child and gladly receive the monumental paycheck that goes with it!? I didn't really say that, but I'm sure I managed to mumble an appropriate thank you.

Now before you think I'm all about the money, I'm not. But seriously, one child with special needs, the opportunity to be involved in his home environment and to hone my skills as a special education teacher - it was exactly what I wanted. The fantastic salary was the icing on the cake.

I climbed into the back seat of an overly large black SUV. It was a very nicely appointed back seat, with a lot of space, similar to the first class seat I'd had on my flight. I quickly found that when I reclined my seat, a footrest popped up. I could easily fall asleep here after the flight, no matter how comfortable it had been on the plane.

"The name is Barrows," the driver said as he slid into the front seat. "Please help yourself to any food or beverage in the refrigerator. It's a rather long drive. If you need anything else, kindly use the intercom button to get my attention." With that, the window between the front and back seat slid up and ended our communication.

"Okay then," I muttered, flipping the fridge open. There was a pretty decent selection of food; I grabbed a Greek yogurt, a cream cheese muffin, a small package of carrot sticks, two organic chocolate chip cookies and a can of LaCroix. I had also spied a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia that I planned to eat if I was still in the car when I was done with the other stuff. Don't judge me. Traveling makes a person hungry.

I dug into the yogurt first, suddenly wondering what Barrows meant when he said it was a long drive; I thought the family lived in Vancouver, but maybe traffic was bad this time of day.