Page 37 of Anything for You
“I thought you might want the company. The first night in a new place can be scary, and I wanted to be close by in case you woke up in the middle of the night and didn’t want to be alone.”
Her little eyebrows draw together as she studies me. Her freckled nose scrunches up, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.
“That’s the kind of thing a mom would do.”
I choose my words very carefully, wanting her to keep talking to me. “I think maybe it is. But I haven’t had a mom for a long time.”
“Did she die?” I take a quiet breath at her nonchalant question.
“She did. When I was eight.”
“My mom died too, when I was born. I didn’t know her so I don’t know if she would have slept on the floor of my room if I was scared.”
“I bet she would have. All the moms I know would do anything for their kids.”
“You slept on my floor.”
I nod. “I did.”
“But you’re not my mom.”
I reach up slowly and put my hand on hers. It’s the first time I’ve touched her like this and I’m cautious, watching her closely for signs that she doesn’t like it, but I see none.
“I’m not your mom, Maddy, but I would really like to be your friend. I think this is the kind of thing friends would do for each other too.”
“Okay,” she says, her lips curling up in a small smile.
“Okay.” I smile back at her and give her hand a little squeeze.
“Now, how about breakfast? We’re going to your new school this morning to meet your teacher, and I think we definitely need a good breakfast first.”
She nods, and, with her hand still in mine, we get up to start our day.
How is it possible that every single elementary school smells the same? It’s been almost two decades since I’ve set foot in an elementary school and I’ve never been in this one, yet I know this smell.
It’s so weird.
Maddy’s little hand is in mine while we make our way to the office. After waffles for breakfast that she only kind of ate, we went back upstairs to get dressed. Maddy had the suitcase she brought with her sitting open on the floor, and when I suggested we unpack it and put her clothes in the dresser, she just shook her head and dug through it to pick her outfit.
Every article of clothing she brought is colorful and sparkly, but there isn’t all that much of it. I make a mental note to ask Molly if she’ll take Maddy shopping for school clothes. It would mean I get to skip the crowded mall, which is basically my worst nightmare, and Maddy gets to spend time with her sister in sparkles. Win, win.
The long hallway of the elementary school is covered in brightly colored bulletin boards. Two weeks into the school year, the boards hold a mass of artwork and pictures of smiling kids and posters decorated with the kids’ hopes and dreams for thecoming year. The school radiates happiness, and I hope Maddy will be happy here too.
I steel myself as I push open the door to the office. I’m not great at meeting strangers outside of work under the best of circumstances. Meeting strangers as the person responsible for the care and well-being of a child?
I’m out of my depth.
Which is why I feel a tidal wave of relief that the first face I see is a familiar one.
“Emma!” Before I’m even through the door to the office, Jen Casey wraps me in a tight hug. Jen was a long-time client of Hallie’s when Hallie was still an estate planning attorney and doing family law on the side. Hallie helped Jen and her husband Eric through the fostering and eventual adoption of their daughter Maya. It was a years-long process, and through Hallie, we all became friendly with Jen and Eric and were thrilled for them when the adoption was finalized last year, just before Hallie and Ben got together and Hallie made the switch to family law full time.
“It’s so great to see you, Jen. I completely forgot you taught here.”
“Not only do I teach here, but I teach second grade. I heard I have a brand-new friend joining my class this year.”
She crouches down so she’s eye level with Maddy, who is still clinging to my hand, head swiveling as she studies the office.
“You must be Maddy.”
