“Another first.” Mum sighed, smiling knowingly reading over my shoulder. You used to send that text to us, every time you came home from uni.”
“Yes.”
“Now you send it to him.”
“Yes.” Emotional? Me?
“And one day, your kids will send you the same one. And you know what, Noah?”
“No?”
“It always hits the same. Family. Being togetheragain.”
“We will be.”
“Retiring in Scotland seems like a good option now. I’ll miss you, darling.”
“We’ll talk.” We would. Because yes. Big changes. Also, small ones. Distance. Love.
Oh God, the love.
“I love you, remember that. We both love you so very much.”
“I know, Mum.”
Then I just sat there. Because there was nothing more I could say.
Chapter 26
Fox
From the outside it looked like an ordinary day, but on the inside? Chaos reigned in my head, and I’d skipped lunch so I wouldn’t throw up. I’d requested a phone call with the local head of social services in Glasgow, and the questions I was about to ask were…eating me up. What on earth was I doing?
Also, yes. Noah and I had joked about it. Dreamed up scenarios and then laughed. We hadn’t actually said, yes. Let’s do this. Let’s move in together. Noah! Move to Scotland.Do it!
Perhaps the words had come out in different combinations, but I was so stressed and confused that nothingmade sense.
The phone call I took part in felt like a blur from start to finish.
My head was a mess.
Then I sat down and tried to make notes and gather all my findings in a comprehensive set of bullet points.
All I got on that piece of paper was I love him. I miss him. I want all of this. This kid is mine. This family is mine. I just didn’t know how to get there.
Was I worthy? Could I do this? I had no idea, but after that last, slightly unhinged meeting with the school board, my confidence felt…fine. I was surprisingly fine, and the head of Glasgow Social Services was a nice man who had explained that I had most of the paperwork needed to get started to train as a foster carer if that was what I wanted. Adoption? He could put me on a list for an information meeting.
I’d blatantly told him that it wasn’t enough. That there was a young boy here who needed to feel like he belonged. I’d ranted about the damage we were doing because we could make no promises. We couldn’t reassure a child that he was safe and loved and cared for. And that to me was a major problem.
The poor guy probably thought I was unstable and weird, but surprisingly he’d emailed me back with an appointment to see someone from the Glasgow team in a week and enough attached leaflets with cheery titles to make me cross-eyed.
I was doing this then. Perhaps I was.
“Mr Riley, sir.” Here was Olsen and Ito barging through the office door, swiftly followed by Barnstowe and Ortega. “Mr Riley, you’re needed. There is some kind of commotion by the gate.”
“What kind of commotion?” I said calmly. Oh God. What had Jones got up to now? Another herd of escaped cattle from Gunner’s Farm?
“There’s someone asking for you, and there’s shouting. Ms Blessing is down there too.”
