“You coming in?”
“I’ll watch.”
I swear he sways his hips more than usual as he walks over to the steps of the pool.
I sit there, content, as I listen to my father flirt with this woman and watch the man I love with kids I never thought I could have.
Life couldn’t be more perfect.
Adam
One year later…
“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” Emmet asks.
I roll my eyes.
“If there was anything I was sure about, it’s this, Emmet. It’s literally in your blood.”
We’ve been standing by the door for ten minutes now, waiting for them to show up.
We’ve been in our new house for about three months. The decision to move had been talked about a few times. We wanted something in a quieter part of town, with more land and space. The decision was made for us when we were approved to foster—we needed a bigger house.
Now, here we are, completely content in our home and waiting for our first foster child to show up.
Emmet looks like he’s about to pass out, but if anyone should be calm, it should be him. He’s done this before. A thousand times.
I get that it’s different, and I understand this is a big thing.
“You’re going to be amazing,” I whisper, kissing his cheek.
The doorbell rings, and he jumps. I chuckle as I pull open the door.
On the other side, stands an older woman with long white hair and the tiniest little girl I have ever seen. She looks like she’s five, but we were already told she’s eight.
She was in a terrible situation and removed after her mother OD’ed for the second time.
Her name is Hannah, and she has the biggest blue eyes.
“Hello,” I say with a soft smile, looking from Cindy, the social worker, to the little girl.
She doesn’t smile, just keeps staring at the floor.
I have no idea what this is going to be like, but I know as long as I have Emmet by my side, I can do anything.
“Hello,” Cindy says.
“Come in,” Emmet says, and we move aside to allow them in.
The little girl takes small, slow steps, and moves to the side.
“We can go into the living room to talk,” I offer.
“That would be wonderful,” Cindy says, putting her hand on Hannah’s shoulder.
They sit together on the large couch, while I take the recliner.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Emmet asks.