"Damn it!" Theodore swore upon reading a message on his phone. We were having breakfast in the suite, preparing to go out for another day of sightseeing before returning home tomorrow.

"I'm sorry," he said to us. "Something has gone wrong with the merger I've been working on. I'm afraid I have to go back into the office today."

My heart sunk. I really wanted to give Harry another day of fun. "Do you think it would be possible for Harry and me to go out and do some sightseeing on our own? I'm always very cautious and I'm confident with public transportation and I'm a very good map reader, but with Google maps it doesn-"

"Fine," Theodore interrupted me. "Barrows will drive you after he drops me off downtown."

"Thank you," I said, gushing with happiness. Harry was thrilled, too.

Our first destination was Calgary Heritage Park. On the way there, I explained to Harry, "This is a place where everything looks like it did over a hundred years ago. You know what year it is, right?"

"2017," He said proudly.

"So this place has a little village that looks like it's still around 1910. They show how they used to do things back then without computers and phones and lots of our modern conveniences."

"Wow," he said eagerly. "That's really cool." Mental note: Teach Harry more about history.

When we arrived, I invited Clive to come with us. "I'm paying," I said, happy to have some splurge money for once in my life.

"No, thank you," he smiled gently. "But I'll be here if you need me."

Harry got out of the car first and then held his hand out to me. "Thank you," I told him. "That was a very gentlemanly thing to do."

We wandered first into the old-time village and once again, everything caught Harry's eye. I was as much in awe as he was at the meticulously restored buildings, many in white clapboard with lines of bright green or blue accenting their frames. Isn't it funny how we always imagine things from the past in black and white? But looking up at the sunny sky and then at the busy village around us, I could almost imagine I was a young lady in 1910, walking into town with my younger brother to fetch some groceries from the General Store.

When we went into a house where the woman, dressed in period garb of course, was making bread, there was a father with his two little kids in the considerable crowd crammed into the small dwelling. The father took his smaller child, a little girl, and put her on his shoulders so she could see better. Harry had no interest in the bread-making demonstration at all. He watched the small family with a borderline stalkerish gaze. I wondered what he was thinking.

Later as we walked, I casually said, "It's interesting to see so many different people, isn't it?" He nodded. "One thing you have to be careful about is staring at people. You can look and appreciate but it makes people uncomfortable if you stare at them, especially if you don't know them."

"Oh, okay," he answered and I could tell he was going to say I'm sorry, but I stopped him.

"No need to be sorry," I said. "You're just learning." We walked a little more and I grabbed his hand in mine. "What did you think of that father and his two kids."

A wistful look appeared on his face. "They looked nice."

"They did," I agreed. "Can you explain more to me? What made you think they were nice?"

"The kids were smiling. And the dad was smiling. And he helped his little girl when she couldn't see."

"Most fathers do those kinds of things for their kids," I said. "But not all."

"Did your dad do those things?" He asked.

"Yes," I said. "He put me on his shoulders when we went to the zoo once. I wanted to see the penguins just like you did."

"Oh, cool," he said. "I can't imagine you being a little girl."

"Neither can I," I laughed. "It feels so long ago." I pulled out my phone. "Look, I have one picture of me as a baby. Don't ask me why I saved it on my phone."

Harry looked at the picture and then gave a loud belly laugh. "Oh my gosh, you were so cute!" 

"Thanks," I giggled, mostly at his reaction. "Do you have any baby pictures at home?"

He twisted his face in thought. "I...think so. Maybe in a book somewhere." And then, "OH!" He pulled the wallet out of his back pocket that he had been using to carry his money. Before that, I never would have guessed he owned one. He opened it to show me two pictures of himself, one as a baby and one as a toddler holding a teddy bear.

"You were the cutest baby ever!" I gushed. "Look at those eyes! Let me tell you something, Harry. If you do find your match one day, you two will have adorable kids."

He stopped in his tracks and looked at me with his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. "I could be a dad?" He was incredulous.

"Yes, Harry. You are smart and sweet and any girl would be lucky to have you as their match."

"But...to be a dad...don't you have to have...." He dropped his voice to a whisper and looked around us at the bustling crowd, not wanting to be overheard. "...sex?"

I truly couldn't help but laugh but I bit my lip hard in an attempt to stifle it. "Of course, Harry. When you find your match, hopefully you will get married and have children. And yes, husbands and wives have sex to show their love for each other and to create babies."

"Whoa," he breathed out. "I get to have sex."

An uncontrollable burst of laughter came from my chest and he started laughing, too, thankfully. I didn't want him to think I was making fun of him. "Some day, Harry," I giggled, trying to get a hold of myself. "When you find the right girl."

His laughter died down into a shy smile and then a very intent and pensive look took up residence on his face as he stared at me.

"Come on," I said, breaking his trance. "Let's go on some rides." We went on the swing carousel first and I told Harry we'd go pretty high but he seemed determined to not show any fear. We ended up laughing until we both had tears rolling down our cheeks even though I was pretty sure I saw some flashes of uncertainty in his face a few times. After that, we rode the caterpillar, the whip, and finally the Ferris wheel.

As we rounded the top of the wheel, I scooted closer to Harry and held his hand. "You're becoming more courageous every day," I commented.

"Why's that?" He asked.

"Because these rides can be scary sometimes. It's not as high as the tower but not everyone likes Ferris wheels and swings that fly so high above the ground."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not scared anymore."

It was then that I caught another flash of a different Harry. A more mature Harry. Not the young child I had been intending to look after and teach. A young man coming into his own. It occurred to me that this outing, indeed this whole trip, had felt like I was traveling with a friend and not a child who had to be corralled and corrected and guided. I shook my head in wonder.

"What?" He asked shyly.

"I'm pretty proud of you, that's all."

"Why?"

"Because I think you're already much more grown up than realize." I loved making him smile the way he did just then; it was the reflection of true happiness, a smile that reached his heart.

We meandered for the rest of the day, taking a ride on the old-fashioned steam train, getting our photos taken both in a small photo booth and inside of a shop where we dressed up in 19th century clothing to make it look like we were outlaws.

As we were leaving one store, Harry asked me, "Can you go and wait outside? I...um... I just want to do this on my own."

Thinking it was a test of his independence, I gladly obliged. It seemed to take him a long time, whatever he was buying, but I welcomed the chance to buy a drink and sit down in the shade outside the store. He came out carrying a small burlap sack.

I handed him a water bottle and asked, "Are you happy with what you bought?"

"Very," he nodded and took a swig.

"Can I see it?"

"Not yet," he answered, biting his lip in a bit of a teasing fashion.

"Okay," I grinned, thinking it was a lot of fun to see him this way, venturing out on his own with a good bit of confidence, more than I would have expected, actually.

We returned to the suite exhausted but completely content with all we had seen and done. That's when I noticed Harry's pill box on the counter.

"Fucking hell," I grumbled.

"Jules!" Harry yelled, half laughing.

"I know, I'm sorry for swearing, but look." I showed him the box. "We forgot your meds again. Theodore is going to kill me."

He shook his head. "I'll just take them now."

Two doses at the same time didn't seem like it would be a big problem, and it didn't look like there were doubles of anything in the breakfast and lunch slots. "Okay. Please don't tell Theodore."

"Like I would do that," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Sarcasm suits you," I said, laughing.

His medications made him sleepy, they always did. So he took a nap before dinner while I decided to do a little searching on the internet. I hadn't noticed any tics, spasms, or stuttering at all while Harry and I were out. He seemed very "normal" (although I hated to use that word because normal is a relative term) and easygoing. No tantrums, no odd behavior like one might expect if he were an ID child and needed medications to help him control his moods and impulses.

I began my first search, medication with side effects of tics or spasms, and discovered there was an actual condition called tardive dyskinesia which was specifically defined as the side effects of anti-psychotic medications. Of course, that included more medications than I could count. But still it was a lead. The question was, if Harry was taking anti-psychotic medications and he missed a few doses, would I be seeing psychotic behavior?

I called my brother-in-law Charlie again. He was on his way home from work and answered on his car phone. "Hey, it's Jules. I have a few more questions for you if you don't mind."

"Okay, shoot," he said. "I'm stuck in traffic anyway."

"So, I'm still trying to figure out what medications Harry is taking because his father won't tell me. But I've actually messed up a few times and forgotten doses. One day, I forgot everything for the entire day, and today, I forgot his first two doses but he just took them both. Don't worry, I looked at them at least to make sure he didn't have duplicates."

"Right," he said. "But they might have been spaced out so they don't interact with each other."

"Crap," I said. "I didn't think of that." I walked over to his room and heard him breathing heavily. "He seems fine. But the thing I noticed, and now I know it's not just my imagination, is that when he doesn't have his meds, he has hardly any tics or stuttering. Have you heard of tardive dyskinesia?"

"Of course," he answered. "It's usually associated with anti-psychotic drugs."

"Okay, so if this was the case - and obviously, I don't really know for sure because I'm not a doctor and I don't know what he's taking - but if it was the case and he was taking an anti-psychotic drug, would I see symptoms of psychosis if he didn't take them?"

"Depends on what he was taking them for," Charlie answered. "Not all anti-psychotic drugs are given for actual psychosis. But they usually have some pretty harsh withdrawal effects. Within twelve hours to 24 hours, he might start having headaches and anxiety, maybe some nausea."

"So I wouldn't have been able to tell what his symptoms are in just the short span of time he missed the pills."

"Probably not," he answered. "But the absence of the tics might be telling, at least about what he's taking."

"Okay, well thanks. If you have any other thoughts about this, shoot me an email or text. Do  you mind if I do the same if I have more questions?"

"Absolutely, Squirt," he answered. Such an odd nickname he had chosen for me. I usually thought of Squirt to mean someone who was small, which I guess I was, to be fair. But no, he gave me the nickname the first time I met him. He came home with Katherina for dinner and he told a joke while I was taking a drink of water. I literally squirted water out of my mouth and nose and proceeded to hack and gag for twenty minutes. Not exactly the kind of thing I wanted to be reminded about every time I spoke to my brother-in-law.

"I just think it's very strange that this guy wouldn't be willing to share his son's medical history with his nanny," Charlie continued. "So yeah, I'm happy to help in any way I can. Just don't stop giving him anything without knowing what it is."

"Of course I wouldn't do that," I answered. "Thanks for your help."

After I ended the call, Harry appeared in the living area. "Talking to your sister again?" He asked, following by a wide yawn.

"No, that was my brother-in-law Charlie. He's a doctor."

"Brother-in-law...." he said, searching for the definition in his brain. "So he's not your real brother, right?"

"Right," I said, praising him. "He's married to my oldest sister Katherina."

"Oh," he said sitting down next to me. He leaned his head on my shoulder and yawned. "Who is everyone in your family?"

"My parents are named Brock and Candace," I began. "Katherina is 27 and she got married to Charlie about three years ago. Helena is 25 and we lived together in an apartment until I moved here. We think her boyfriend is going to propose marriage to her any day. And my younger brother Oliver is 18, so he's right about your age."

"They sound nice," he said without any basis for his opinion, except that they were related to me, I guess.

"They are all very nice," I said. "Sometimes we fight like all families do, but deep down, we all love each other very much. My family has always been there for me."

"Ohh," he said. "I didn't know that families fight sometimes."

"Well, if you think about the movies we've watched, both Ariel and Jasmine fought with their fathers and disobeyed them. But in the end, they both realized that their fathers were just looking out for them. Even though they were fictional stories, they showed something that is often true about real life."

He sat in contemplative silence for a long while, once again leaning against me with his head against mine. I loved that he was learning so much and that he felt so free with me. And I loved that we were more than caregiver and child.

Harry was becoming a good friend.

* * * * *

thanks everyone! xoxo