“Have you considered adopting from another country?”
“You could adopt as single parents.”
“Well, it worked for my friends David and Tristan. They adopted twin boys in California last year.”
Good for David and Tristan.
Nate and I were still waiting for our sunshine story. We knew we could increase our chances by stating that one of us would be a stay-at-home parent or that we went to church or that we were single or that we weren’t gay—and thanks, but no.
I made my way home, the fight seeping out of me along the way, and I bought pizza at the place where Mario now knew our names and asked, “The usual, Ash?”
Yup, yup. The usual.
A few months later, we were slowly but surely coming out of our funk, but a rainy Thursday was enough for us to cancel our plans to attend a bondage demo, and we ordered Chinese and stayed on the couch.
“We’re so bad,” Nate chuckled, opening the containers on the coffee table.
I shrugged to myself, not giving a fuck. I had my favorite person in the world sitting right next to me. The parties and demos and seminars and hobbies could wait.
While he plated our food, I got the TV ready. We had three episodes ofMad Menand two episodes ofBoardwalk Empireto catch up on.
“How did it go at work today, by the way?” I asked. “Did the little kid show up for his session?”
“He did—I was so relieved when I saw him,” he answered. “The more I talk to his aunt, the more I relax. She’s good for him. She’s in contact with social services to take him in permanently.”
That was good to hear. Good news concerning children who’d been in harm’s way would never get old.
“I think your phone’s ringing, honey.”
Was it? I sat up straighter, peering toward the hallway. Maybe he was right. I heard something vibrating, so I got off the couch and aimed for my discarded work pants.
“It’s Ma,” I said, taking the call. “Hey, Ma, what’s up?”
“Hi, love! I’ll cut right to it. Can you both call in sick tomorrow and drive down?”
I furrowed my brow. “Is everything okay? Is Dad all right?” He’d had knee surgery the other week.
“Oh, he’s fine. This is about you and Nathan.” She made aneeepsound toward the end, and I looked at the phone. What was going on with her? She didn’t fucking make those sounds. “There’s a pair of siblings, sweetie. They need a home, and an out-of-state solution is definitely on the table.”
Holy—
I fumbled with my phone, almost dropping it, as shock tore through me.
The way she’d said that?—
My heart started pounding. “Wh-what?” My ears were suddenly ringing so loudly that I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right.
“I met them briefly the other week when they arrived at the group home,” Ma went on urgently. “It’s Colleen’s case—she opened up about them today. We had lunch together. Oh, Ash, you and Nathan would be perfect for them. They’ve been so neglected. Abusive background, parents are alcoholics—you know the story. We never freaking run out of them. And Dylan—that’s the boy’s name. He’s about to turn six. He’s done his best to protect his baby sister from much of the violence, so he’s guarded and doesn’t trust anyone.”
I swallowed hard. My eyes stung, and I turned toward the living room. Nate was watching me with confusion and curiosity written all over him.
“And Hallie, the baby girl, she just turned four—she’s shy and doesn’t say much, which is understandable, of course.”
Right. Of course.
I rubbed at my forehead and screwed my eyes shut, needing my brain to fucking get with the program.
A voice in the back of my mind was catching up. A voice that belonged to a guy who’d grown up around these stories. He knew the drill. We’d apply to become their foster parents, we’d go through with interviews and paperwork, we’d hope for the best, we’d create a safe environment for the children to grow up in, and one day, if everything went well, they’d want to stay permanently.
