He doesn’t glance my way or acknowledge me.
I mentally tick off all that I need to do as I scramble to find a way to talk to him. “I’m so sorry…” Honestly, if I lost someone close to me, the last thing I want to hear is how sorry they are, but that’s just me.
“Are you hungry?”
Still no response.
How do you help and take care of someone you don’t know if they won’t talk?
“I’m tired,” he says flatly.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, uhm, I can take you upstairs. I have several bedrooms you can choose from, but there’s only one guest room. The rest are empty. If you want a different room, I can set you up in there. We can decorate it how you want.”
He stands with his eyes averted from me. I guess that’s my cue to show him where to nap.
Fuck, I can’t even imagine what he’s going through. Meanwhile, my gut is screaming at me that I’m going to fuck this up epically and let down my friends even more.
“I’ll… show you,” I say before leading him upstairs.
When we reach the foot of the stairs, I grab his suitcase that the lawyer left here. I’d get the few boxes he has later, which I assume hold his other belongings.
We reach the only other bedroom with furniture, which is down the hall from my room. It faces the woods and the sunset. At least he’ll have a pleasant view.
The room is comfortable and contemporary with natural elements, rich woods, and cream-colored fabrics. The walls are painted in a dark stone color with hints of green. The windows have billowy white curtains.
Braeden looks around the room before stepping up to one of the windows and looking out.
“The woods are nice with lots of live oaks to climb on, as kids like to do. At least I think they do. I did, since we had these trees all over Houston. The Mighty Mississippi is a few blocks away. I also have a pool in the back, if you like to swim.”
When Braeden turns around with his arms wrapped around himself and his eyes watering, his lips start trembling, and a sob escapes him.
Shit, do I hug him? But he doesn’t know me. Do I ask? God, why does it feel like I should know these things?
I rub my neck and step into the room. “I’m so sorry, kiddo.” Instead of analyzing everything, I go with my gut and pull him into a hug. He doesn’t hug back, keeping his arms at his side, but he doesn’t shove me away, either. “You’re safe here, Braeden.”
After a minute of crying, he eases back, slips into the bed, and rolls away from me. I guess I’m dismissed.
“Do you have a favorite food? I can order whatever you want.”
He says nothing, so I leave him alone and shut the door behind me.
I tick off in my head that I need to order groceries, set him up for school, and be fast about it to get him into the system. I also need to put him on my health insurance, call my lawyer, find a therapist, and find a pediatrician. What else?
Fuck, and all this is in the middle of some very important projects at work.
What I need is to talk to someone with experience in raising kids. The first person who comes to mind is Seth.
I stare at the ceiling and sigh, then I knock on Braeden’s door and open it. “Hey, I’m going to run next door for a bit. I need to talk to my neighbor.”
He sits up, wide-eyed. “No!”
My brows shoot straight to my hairline. “Oh… okay. Well, I won’t be gone long. I need to talk to—”
“Don’t leave!”
That’s going to be a problem. I have to leave. I’ll need to work, run errands… I can kiss my weekend fun goodbye. It’s clear even to me why Braeden is clingy.
“Do you want to come with me? My neighbor has three kids you can hang out with. One is a boy who’s about ten or so.”
