Page 76 of Not Catching Love

“Really?” He looks legitimately surprised. “I dunno, man. It looks a whole lot like it to me.”

Me too, Manny. Me too. Unfortunately I get the feeling that Derek hasn’t explained the whole situation, and so I have no idea how Manny would feel knowing that I used to be oneof Derek’s patients. That I still would be if he wasn’t such a good person who actually has morals.

We might look like we’re dating. We might want to be dating. I might be growing more sure with every day that he’s the man I’m falling for.

But we’re not dating. And when my brain isn’t playing tricks on me, I know reality is the only thing that counts.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Derek

“You remind me of a little boy I used to foster.”

I freeze in the doorway to the art room and yank myself out of sight. My dance class has been called off because stomach flu has hit the nursing home, and I thought I’d see if Xander wanted to go somewhere instead. Now, I’m worried that I’ve stumbled into the wrong end of a conversation.

“I wish someone like you had fostered me,” he says.

I need to walk away, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“I miss those days,” she says. “Oooh, Toby used to want to kill some people over what those babies went through.”

I glance around the doorframe and find Xander and Bethany sitting side by side, painting.

“Why did you foster kids?” he asks. “We’re hard work. Most of us are so fucking messed up and impossible to deal with.”

“Impossible is a lie people tell themselves when they don’twant to put in the work. In all our years, only one child had to be removed, and it broke my heart.”

“What happened?”

“She was violent toward the others. It was one of the hardest decisions I ever made.” Bethany lifts a shaky arm to paint some more. “I had five other children in my care though, and I couldn’t give her the one-on-one time she needed. I think about her a lot.”

He shoots her one of those side-eye looks he’s perfected. “You do?”

“Yes, I think about all of them a lot. Still remember every name. Kept a notebook with the thing I liked most about each child.”

I can tell he’s debating whether to continue the conversation. “What sorts of things?”

“Javier was seven. Used to be very particular about his teeth and would remind us all, morning and night without fail, to make sure we’d brushed so we didn’t get cavities. Lauren had this one doll she always sang ‘Once Upon a Dream’ to as she was falling asleep. Nevaeh would cry when someone picked a flower because it meant the flower would die. And Rose—she was the one I had to have removed—I remember seeing her braid Lauren’s hair one day when they didn’t know I was watching. Told Lauren she could be a doctor if she wanted to.”

“No one ever wrote notes like that about me.”

“How do you know?”

Xander shrugs. “They all hated me.”

“How many foster homes were you in?”

Xander huffs. “If that’s supposed to be a farmhouse, you need to get your eyesight tested.”

“They do it here frequently, thank you very much. Your frog looks like a goat.”

“What goats do you know that are green?”

“You’re the one painting it.”

With them moved on to safer topics, I tap on the doorframe and walk in. “I think the farmhouse and the frog both look amazing.”

Xander looks at Bethany, and they share a look about my lack of art skills, something the residents love to remind me about.

---