"Would you like to build with blocks first, or should we color?" she asked him.
"Blocks! I'm gonna build a castle for Eden!"
I retreated to the kitchen, ostensibly to give them space, but really so I could watch Holly's natural abilities unfold without making her self-conscious. From my vantage point, I could see them in the living room spreading blocks across the floor. Holly was letting Noah take the lead but offering gentle suggestions when his tower threatened to topple.
An hour passed in what seemed like minutes. I moved around the house, checking in periodically while pretending to do chores, but really I was fascinated by how easily Holly had slipped into her role. When Noah knocked over his block tower and burst into tears, Holly didn't panic. She sat beside him, validated his feelings ("It's really disappointing when that happens, isn't it?"), then suggested they build something together that might be sturdier.
By mid-afternoon, they'd moved on to an elaborate game involving dinosaurs, action figures, and Eden, who patiently allowed herself to be dressed in a cape made from one of Holly's shirts.
During snack time, I snapped a quick photo of Holly carefully cutting Noah's apple into small pieces while he recited what sounded like every dinosaur fact he'd ever learned. I sent it to Sarah with a message:
Holly is a natural with Noah. So patient and nurturing. I'm impressed.
Sarah: Not surprising. Kids who've experienced abandonment often become incredibly nurturing. They give others what they wished someone had given them. Plus, she's had great examples in her grandparents, you, and Drew. She's going to be an amazing caregiver.
I glanced back at Holly, who was now listening intently as Noah explained something about pterodactyls, her chin resting on her hand. There was something in her expression, a gentle attentiveness that reminded me of how my mother used to listen to me as a child that made my throat tighten.
After snack time, Holly suggested they go outside to the backyard.
"We could hunt for bugs," she proposed, and Noah's eyes widened with delight.
"Can we?" he asked, looking to me for permission.
"Of course," I said. "The magnifying glass is in the drawer by the back door."
I watched through the kitchen window as Holly helped Noah put on the sunscreen Allison had packed. She was methodical, making sure his ears and the back of his neck were covered, all while keeping up a conversation about what kinds of bugs they might find.
My phone buzzed with another text from Sarah:
Sarah: How's it going? Has Noah worn her out yet?
Actually, I think she has more energy than he does! They're on a bug hunt now. She made sure he had sunscreen, a hat, AND water. She thought of things I would have forgotten.
Sarah: That doesn't surprise me at all. Holly's had to be very observant and self-sufficient. She probably notices things most teens don't.
I hadn't thought about it that way before, but Sarah was right. Holly had developed a heightened awareness of others' needs—a survival skill that was now translating into genuine caregiving abilities.
Outside, she was helping Noah examine something in the grass, the magnifying glass between them. His excited squeals carried through the window, and I could see Holly's face lit with genuine delight at his discovery.
When Allison arrived to pick Noah up, he was sitting at the kitchen table with Holly, coloring a picture of what appeared to be Eden wearing a dinosaur costume.
"Mama!" he exclaimed when he saw her. "Look what me and Holly made! And we found FIVE bugs! And Holly knows how to make dinosaur-shaped sandwiches!"
Allison raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Sounds like you had fun."
"We did," Holly confirmed, helping Noah gather his artwork. "He taught me all about dinosaurs."
"Only the meat-eating ones," Noah clarified seriously. "I'm saving the plant-eaters for next time."
"Next time?" Allison looked at me, her eyes lit up with hope.
"Holly would be happy to watch him anytime you need," I said, catching Holly's eager nod. "They got along wonderfully."
After Allison and Noah left—with Noah insisting on a high-five, a hug, and a fist bump with Holly—we collapsed onto the couch, Eden immediately jumping up to lie across our laps.
"That was fun," Holly said, sounding surprised at her own admission. "He's a cool kid."
"You were amazing with him," I told her. "You're a natural."
