Page 142 of The Overtime Kiss

But then his lips curve up like he has a secret. “I called Trevyn the other day. I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous, but I really needed his help with something.”

He hands me another note card.

Sabrina,

I should have done this a while ago. I should have asked if you had plans for the holiday. I didn’t and I’m sorry. And I should have said something, too, the last morning we spent together. I’m sorry for not figuring it out sooner.

A lot of this—well, all of this—is new to me. So I’m not sure I’m so good at figuring any of this out. And I don’t even know if you’ve already made Christmas plans with your friends. If you have, I understand. But Trevyn said he thought you were still free. And I just can’t imagine taking the kids to seeIce Spectaclein New York without you since I know you wanted to go too.

I’m not asking you to babysit. I’m not asking you to work. I’m just asking you to go…with us.

—T

Luna makes an announcement after school a few days later. “Since we’re not going to be here for Christmas, we should gather all the toys we don’t use and clothes, too, and donate them, instead of getting a tree.”

“We talked about how to help others in my classes too,” Parker puts in. “Maybe we can get gift cards for unhousedfamilies and donate them too. A lot of shelters have holiday giving programs.”

And I fall even harder for these kids. “Just check with your dad,” I say, fighting off a lump in my throat.

Tyler doesn’t need to be asked twice. He says yes and helps the kids gather items that afternoon. After we drop off some donations at a local shelter, we pop into its secondhand shop and pick up some gently used garlands and a wreath too, and decorate the house that way, as Parker discusses the science of Santa with his father, and Drama plays with a few stray ribbons.

It feels like a new tradition, but I don’t want to get too attached to it. It’s like fostering. You give the animals so much love for a short time, knowing you’re only a stop along the way.

And that’s okay.

We return Drama to Little Friends the next day. That was always the plan—to take care of her until she was big enough to be spayed and fully vaccinated.

Still, Luna pouts, and Parker’s lower lip quivers as we walk into the animal rescue in the heart of the city. A little pink crate swings in Luna’s hand. Inside, a tuxedo kitten is curled up peacefully on a blanket.

I spot Nia quickly. With a shirt that readsI Work For My Catand flower tattoos winding down her bronze skin, she’s hard to miss. She’s microchipping a little silver tabby at an exam table in the cat wing, but she looks up and sees us, finishes popping the chip in, hands the animal to a volunteer, and turns in our direction.

Once she peers in the crate, she says approvingly, “She looks a little chunkier.”

“She sure is,” I say, handing the kitty over.

“Aww, we’re going to have people lining up for you,” Nia coos, scratching Drama’s chin as she opens the crate.

The kitten happily accepts the adulation, purring louder as Nia cradles her.

But when I glance at the Falcon kids, my heart squeezes. Their frowns dig deeper into their cheeks. My chest aches for them. I’ve fostered before—many times. You grow attached, but you learn to let go so you can keep helping.

These kids though? It’s their first time. I kneel so I’m closer to eye level. “I know you’ll miss her,” I say gently, one hand on Parker’s arm, the other on Luna’s shoulder. “But she’s going to find an amazing family, and when she does, do you know what that means?”

Parker sniffs, valiantly fighting off tears. “What does it mean?”

“It means we can keep fostering. The more we foster, the more stray animals we can help find homes. Every time we open our home to another foster, we’re giving an animal a second chance.”

“It helps so much,” Nia adds with a sage nod. “We always need fosters. So, so badly.”

Luna octopuses her arms around me. “I want to keep saving lives.”

“Me too,” Parker says, his voice wobbly but determined.

I glance at Tyler, who’s standing as stoically as possible by the cat cages. His jaw is tight but his eyes are a little wet. He strides over to Drama, scoops her up, and presses a soft kiss to her tiny head.

It’s not really goodbye.

It’s the start of a new hello—with a new family, whoever they might be.

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