I nod, and we wait in silence as two sets of footsteps can be heard, one of which – thelighter one – takes each stair with both feet as Nancy makes her way carefully downstairs.
Drew clears the now-empty mugs from the table, leaving me with Abigail before she, too, gets up and stands over by the kitchen window. I hear muffled voices in the hall for a few seconds, before small footsteps rush into the kitchen and then…
There she is.
Nancy stands in the kitchen doorway, her dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, loose wisps framing her angelic face, her startling light blue eyes locked on mine. She’s wearing a pink woolly jumper with clouds on it underneath bottle-green dungarees, with a small pink handbag hanging diagonally across her body.
She leans heavily into the door frame, clinging to it for safety. I smile at her from my seat at the table, frozen in place and not really knowing what to do. Nancy makes her way into the room with Caitlin, clinging to her side for safety and comfort as I tilt my head at her and smile once again. I don’t speak, not yet. I want to meet her where she’s at, and she has trouble with speaking when she’s anxious. I don’t want her to feel any pressure from me to talk, so I keep quiet too.
I reach down and take the small gift bag from under my seat, holding it out to her. Her eyes light up, and she squeaks as she moves closer, finally releasing her grip on Caitlin. She takes the bag, opens the ribbons, and pulls out the small stuffed grey seal. She looks from it to me before hugging it to her chest and squeezing it tightly. She brings it to her lips and whispers something so softly I can’t hear it, then tucks the small toy into her dungarees pocket so the head is poking out, facing forward. I grin at her, my heart pounding in my chest with love for this girl already. Suddenly, she grabs her small handbag from her side and pulls it in front of her. She opens it up and shows me a toy mobile phone. She proceeds to show me all the buttons and the noises it makes. She is grinning at me like she is waiting to hear what I think of the item she clearly thinks is the best thing since sliced bread.
I coo in appreciation at the phone, before she puts it back in her handbag, zipping it securely, and in the same breath, takes another small step towards me. I push my chair back, and as though that were the invitation she was waiting for, she bounds across the remaining space between us and tries to climb up onto my lap. I look at Caitlin, needing guidance, and she just smiles softly and gives me a nod. I put myhands out in front of me in the universal ‘you want me to pick you up?’ gesture, and Nancy puts her own arms up, making it clear she does.
She settles sideways on my lap, then shifts so she’s facing me. Her expression is blank for a moment before curiosity overtakes her. She leans up, placing both hands on my cheeks. She scratches my stubble with her tiny fingers, and my heart stops when my sweet girl giggles the quietest giggle I’ve ever heard. I don’t even think Caitlin heard it from where she stands behind my chair.
Neither of us speaks as she continues to explore my face with her hands. She pokes at my eyebrows with her fingers, my cheekbones, tugging on the lobes of my ears before she once again scratches at my scruff, and a huge smile takes over her face. I smile back at her, and she bops the end of my nose with her finger, that tiny giggle escaping her again. I do the same, bopping her nose as well, and she bounces in excitement.
She clambers down from my lap and takes my hand. She drags me upstairs to her bedroom, and I follow, powerless in the wake of this quiet whirlwind of a human who has stolen my heart in the space between one beat and the next. I look over my shoulder at the gobsmackedyet smiling faces of Abigail, Drew, and Caitlin. As Nancy and I climb the stairs, I hear Caitlin say she’ll come up and sit with us before Abigail speaks casual words that make my life complete.
“Well… I think we can safely say that went very well.”
Seventeen
Corey
Afew days after Christmas, right in the middle of the cheese days – those days between Christmas and New Year, where you predominantly survive on leftovers or cheese and crackers – I find myself alone in Nancy’s bedroom, painting. It’s my first day off since I started working at the pub on Boxing Day. I mean, I only work over the lunch rush for between three and four hours a day, but I have to admit the prospect of making a little money on my own, with no interference from anyone and without having to do anything I’m not comfortable with, has been incredibly satisfying.
Sam has been a bit subdued, and so he’s let Daniel, the other barman – a nineteen-year-old student from the university in Norwich, twenty minutes away – train me on how to change barrels and how the till system works. He’s fun, if a little doe-eyed and naive about the world, but I was exactly the same when I was a student, and I’d never want to be the reason someone lost their shine. So, when he asks about where I’m from, what I did before I moved here, and all the other banal ‘getting to know you’ questions that are completely normal, I surprise myself by telling him about my perfectly happy home life, my decision to leave teaching because of the admin and red tape, and my plans for the future to work with kids using art in some way.
It’s been fun pretending, even just for the eleven and a half hours I’ve been that person.
As I paint, I’m half-listening to the rest of the Fosters downstairs arguing over whether the instructions for the Helmsblüd chest of drawers should be followed to the letter or whether they’re more of a guiding hand.
Nash is downstairs in his element, handing out instructions with his signature blend of organisation and sarcasm. His brothers give it back just as much, and the peals of laughter that carry up the stairs every few minutes make my heart warm.
I haven’t had a chance to speak to Nash properly yet, but seeing how happy he was as he told all of us how his meeting with Nancy went the other day, I felt a lump in my throat of pure emotion. His joy is infectious, and the whole family is practically giddy. Wren is here too, and while she’s clearly happy for her brother, she’s keeping very much to herself.
A little like me, I suppose. As soon as I finished the cup of tea Bev made when we arrived, I slipped away, back upstairs to finish the painting I started shaping out on Boxing Day. Rain asked Nash if I could paint her bedroom, and when he said I could, I’m sure he thought I would just pick a colour or something, but I wanted to do something special for her. And for him. I know he wants to make this room beautiful for her, and I want to help him do that.
After a few hours in here with the wall paints Nash bought me when I texted him to request them, and my brushes, I’ve managed to render a pretty good base of it around all four walls. Now I just need to tidy up the details until it’s how I envisioned it in my head. Or at least as close to it as I can manage.
I wanted the mural to represent aspects of Nancy’s new family, so that when she was in her bedroom, she felt surrounded by their loveand support. So, it starts with a scene depicting a river surrounded by reeds and bulrushes with various birds and butterflies fluttering above them. There’s a heron standing stock-still on the riverbank, to represent Rain, as he watches the three yachts sailing by, representing Aidan, Cole, and Archer, each of their initials emblazoned on the sails.
As the mural moves around the room, there’s a farm in the background for her grandparents and a tractor for Wren. The river eventually flows into the sea, and the last section of the mural shows the seaside scenery that I’ve become so attached to. Nash mentioned this morning that he gave her a stuffed seal toy the other day and how she fell in love with it, so I’ve just finished adding the colony of seals to the mural as well. They’re there to represent her new daddy and to remind her of the day they met.
I asked Nash to stay out of this room while I’m still working on it, hence why the furniture is all being built downstairs, ready to be carried up later. I wanted him to see it when it was finished, so when Rain calls upstairs that he and Aidan are ready to leave, I reply I’m not quite ready yet and that I’ll see them at home later. A few minutes later, Rain comes into Nancy’s bedroom, presumably to check on me,and stops in his tracks in the doorway.
“Corey,” he gushes, surprise and admiration in his voice. “What the… how did you…” He walks into the room, his mouth wide open in surprise as he walks around the entire room, taking in every element of the mural. “Babe, this is unbelievable.”
“It’s nothing,” I hedge, but Rain soon makes his disagreement with that statement known.
“It most certainly is not nothing, babe. This is incredible. I can see everyone. Nash with the seals, and the rest with the boats. Wren with the tractor, even me! I’ll never forget that heron the first day Aidan took me sailing.” His voice trembles with emotion. “What about you, though?” he asks.
“Me? What do you mean? I’m not family, so…” I trail off, and Rain cups my cheeks.
“I wish you could see it,” he says, quietly. “You are family to me if nobody else. But the way this family works? They’ve already taken you into the fold, babe. There’s no escaping it now.” He chuckles softly before kissing me on the cheek. “We’ll see you at home later.” He turns to leave the room before pausing to look at me over his shoulder.
“Put something of yourself in there, babe. I promise you, you’ll be glad you did.” And then he’s gone, and I’m alone with my paintbrush again.
