Page 4 of Wrangled Love

I’m about to meet my son. One I didn’t know existed until today.

I follow Tony into the conference room, my eyes going straight to Caleb seated on the other side of the large table. He’s holding a stuffed dinosaur against his chest, and when his big brown eyes meet mine, my heart skips a beat. The photo didn’t come close to capturing just how much he looks like me. His shoulders are slumped, weighed down by a sorrow no child should have to handle on their own.

A woman with a blonde bob and wearing a powder-blue suit, sits beside him with a clipboard in front of her. I assume she’s the social worker, so I offer a polite nod. There will be time for us to talk, but my priority is to meet my son and ensure he feels safe around me.

Caleb’s lower lip quivers as I settle in the chair on the other side of him.

“Hey, buddy,” I say softly. “I’m Jensen. It’s really nice to meet you.”

He blinks, his small hands squeezing the dinosaur tighter, gripping it like a lifeline.

“How are you doing?” I instantly wince when the words leave my mouth.

What a stupid question. Of course he’s not doing well. He just lost his mom and now he’s in a room with strangers, probably scared and unsure of what’s going to happen next.

This is uncharted territory for me, and it shows. I’ve never spent time with a kid before, yet here I am trying to connect with my son while doing my best not to push him too hard. I don’t know his favorite food, what makes him laugh, or how to earn his trust. The only information I have is his name and that he clings to a stuffed dinosaur as if it’s the only constant in his world.

“I like your dino,” I say, running my fingers along the spikes on its back. “I bet he has a mighty roar.”

Caleb lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug, the only sign he’s acknowledged me.

I lean in and whisper, “I heard dinosaurs love grilled cheese sandwiches, especially with lots of gooey cheese.”

His mouth twitches in the faintest hint of a smile glancing at his dino.

“They’re my favorite. In fact, one of the best ones I’ve ever had was from a deli a few blocks from here. Maybe we could get one together if you’re hungry.”

I watch with bated breath as Caleb’s eyes flicker and his finger flexes around his dinosaur, revealing a small spark of interest.

“How about you nod if you like the idea, and shake your head if you’d rather try something else.”

Caleb nibbles on his lower lip, studying me for what feels like ages. Just as I’m about to suggest other options, he gives me a hesitant nod.

I flash a grin, giving him a thumbs-up. “Great choice. Howabout I talk to the nice lady waiting for us, then we can head to the deli? I’m sure you’re as hungry as I am.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” the social worker interjects with a smile. “It’s been a few hard days for Caleb and he could use some normalcy. Let’s head over there now and we can go over the questions I need to ask once we get back.”

“Really?” I ask.

She nods, jotting something on her clipboard. “No reason why not.”

I exhale in relief, grateful she wants to make this transition easier for Caleb. I’m eager to get back to New York and establish a routine. Every article I read stresses it as essential when caring for a child who’s experienced loss. I’m also counting down the hours until I can speak with Julie Halstead. Hopefully, she can offer a new perspective and the kind of reassurance and wisdom that can’t be found online.

No matter what comes next, I know the Halsteads will help Caleb and me through it. And until he’s ready to let me in, I’ll keep showing him that I’m here, and he’ll never have to face anything alone again.

After the social worker approved Caleb’s stay with me, we were on our way to New York. Somewhere between crossing state lines and returning to the city skyline, I wondered if I was in over my head. Thank god my assistant, Beth, stocked the fridge and set up the guest bedroom for Caleb before we arrived. It was one less thing I had to worry about, allowing my focus to be solely on him.

It’s past midnight once we get to my place, and we head straight to his room—complete with a king-sized bed, gray walls, and a leather armchair in the corner. Not exactly kid-friendly, but it’s the best we could manage at the last minute.

Caleb stands in the doorway, watching me with wary, sleep-heavy eyes as I move his things from the duffel bag he had with him to the dresser in the corner.

“We’ll go to the store soon, and you can pick out whatever you want to decorate your room,” I assure him.

Maybe it’ll help him feel more at home and give me a glimpse ofwhat he likes.

He blinks slowly as I pull a pair of pajamas from his bag and hold them up. “How about you get changed and brush your teeth before bed?”

He bites his lower lip, clutching his dinosaur tightly, and hesitantly shakes his head.

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