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“This report is impressive, Ms. Bradley,” Dr. Raines said over his bifocals as he closed the case study I’d prepared on one Mr. Kenneth Easton. “Very thorough. It appears as though you administered every assessment in our vault.”
I let out a jittery laugh and picked at my chipped black nail polish. “Yeah…I wasn’t finding anything, so I kinda just kept digging.”
“Ms. Bradley, we call that a fishing expedition. It’s when you go into an evaluation, looking for something, and you keep testing until you find it. Did you want to find something?”
A guilty blush crept up my neck. “Not really. I just…wanted answers. Ken—my client—expressed concerns about his inability to connect with people emotionally. He has difficulties with expressing himself, dislikes being touched, shuts down in emotional situations, and…prefers physical pain over tenderness…sexually.” My eyes landed on a stain on the carpet in front of Dr. Raines’s desk.
“And your conclusion was that he is a mathematical genius whose emotional limitations stem from his family history. Is that correct?”
I nodded. “Basically.”
“Ms. Bradley, I think that is an accurate assessment of his current functioning. However…”
My heart sank into my gnawing, empty stomach.
Fuck. I missed something. I knew it.
“There was one glaring area of deficit that I think might help answer your question. Do you remember one particular area in which your client performed significantly belowaverage?”
“Yes, sir. He bombed the phonological processing test I gave him. In all areas.”
“I must say, Ms. Bradley, I was surprised that you chose to administer a phonics test, given that the primary concern was emotional, but after seeing your client’s performance, I believe it holds the key to his primary concern.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” I sighed and shook my head. “People who score poorly in phonics typically exhibit a learning disability, but Ken—my client—scored in the average range in reading and writing. Based on his scores, there doesn’t seem to be an impact on his learning.”
“Not now,” Dr. Raines said, his eyes lighting up. “But how do you think a five- or six-year-old with those phonics scores would perform?”
“I would expect him to exhibit classic dyslexia with related deficits in reading, writing, spelling, and probably school interest.” As soon as the words left my mouth, my eyes lit up, too. “He said he always hated school, but I couldn’t figure out why.”
“Ms. Bradley, for students with dyslexia, how do they typically compensate for their weak phonological processing abilities?”
“Um…visual processing, memorization…”
“And what are your client’s strongest cognitive areas?”
My mouth opened to match my eyes. “Visual-spatial processing, visual memory, quantitative reasoning…Dr. Raines, are you saying that my client has undiagnosed dyslexia?”
“Had. I believe he had dyslexia, but because of his superior intellect, he was able to teach himself to read and write through memorization and context clues.”
“Oh my God.”
“So, you were correct in your surface-level diagnosis. Because he can read and write, he no longer meets criteria for a learning disability, but those language-based deficits are still there.”
“Could that explain why he has difficulties expressing himself verbally as well?”
Dr. Raines winked at me. “Bingo. Reasoning with pictures and numbers is significantly easier for your client than reasoning with language or emotions. Therefore, I would expect him to find nonverbal ways to express himself whenever possible.”
“Like what? He doesn’t draw or write music. He’s not even affectionate.”
“Ms. Bradley, haven’t you ever heard the expression, Actions speak louder than words?”
I leaned back in my seat, stunned silent by my advisor’s revelation.
Actions.
It made perfect sense. Ken did have a hard time expressing himself with words and an even harder time accepting physical touch, so that whole time he’d been showing me he cared instead.
“Based on your client’s profile, he appears to be a highly left-brained individual—a man of action and reason.”
“He is.” I nodded, fighting back tears. “Very much, sir.”
“Then, my recommendation would be for Mr. Easton to select a life partner who is free-spirited and highly verbal, someone right-brained to help balance him out. Like a poet or a painter or perhaps”—he offered me a small, sympathetic smile—“a psychology student with purple hair.”
