Page 1

Chapter one

Danae

“ T his will be your room—what do you think?”

I study Jason’s body language, looking for clues as to what he’s feeling inside. His nine-year-old face teeters between pensive and awed. The conflict playing out in his expressions mirrors the emotions in my heart.

Excitement. Terror. Tenderness. Anxiety.

I suppose this is our new normal given the life we’re beginning today.

“You mean this whole room will be mine? I’ll have that whole big bed to myself?” Jason asks, gesturing to the twin bed in the corner.

“Big bed?” I question. “What do you mean?”

“At my dad’s place, I slept in the corner of his room. On a little bed.” He makes a motion with his hands, indicating the size of a toddler bed. Jason is small for his age but still well beyond the size of a toddler.

I blink back tears.

“Yes! This whole room will be just for you. There’s a quilt on the bed for now, but we’ll go shopping tomorrow so you can pick out exactly what style of comforter you want,” I say. My enthusiasm grows as the smile on his face expands.

“Danae? Could I talk with you in the kitchen for a moment?” Jason’s social worker asks. Sandra was waiting in the living room while I showed Jason his room, but I’m sure she has other places to be today .

“Sure. Jason, why don’t you unpack the clothes from your duffel bag into the dresser?” I suggest. Jason nods, and I ruffle his orange-red hair before following Sandra down the stairs to the main floor of my townhouse.

We speak in low voices once we reach the kitchen. “How are you feeling?” Sandra asks. It’s impossible to succinctly explain the jumble in my heart. I pick at the coat of clear nail polish on my thumb.

“Happy? Sad? Nervous? Like I have zero idea what I’m doing?” I answer honestly. She smiles.

“That’s normal,” she says. “Take things slowly and try to go at his pace as much as you can. We were able to rush your foster certification since you’re considered a kinship placement, but you’ll still have a trial period for about six months before the adoption is finalized.

So if you ever start to have doubts or think you might change—”

“I won’t be changing my mind,” I state, cutting off her sentence.

Sandra smiles again. “I’m only saying— if you ever have doubts, please reach out and talk to me about it. Sooner rather than later. I’m here to support you in addition to being here for Jason.”

“I appreciate it,” I tell her. “I’m one hundred percent committed, but I’m grateful for your support. Just to clarify, his father’s rights have already been officially terminated, right? There won’t be any other legal issues on that front?”

“Correct,” Sandra replies. “He signed the papers before he was transferred to the prison. And considering Jason’s grandmother personally asked you to adopt him, I can’t imagine she would create any legal barriers.

There are no other biological family members interested in adopting him.

You simply need to get through the adjustment period, and then everything can be finalized next spring. Any other questions?”

I stare at Sandra, trying to steady my racing heart. There are far too many questions running through my mind to ask.

How do I do this? How do you instantly learn to be a mom? Can I do this? What if I totally mess this up?

Instead of speaking any of them aloud, I shake my head. “I’ll be in touch if I do. ”

“I’ll be here in a week to check in with you,” Sandra says.

“Oh, and I forgot to tell you one thing—Jason got accepted to go to a special three-day baseball camp put on for kids in foster care. He loves baseball, so I’d entered his name for it before all of this shook out.

It’s not till after the holidays, though, so I’ll get more information to you soon. ”

“Wait, what? A baseball camp?” I ask, brow furrowed. “Is it possible to cancel?”

Sandra gives me a confused look. “I mean, maybe? I already told him about it, and he was so excited. But I can try to withdraw him, if you want.”

I sigh. “No, it’s fine. I just hate baseball. But I don’t want to disappoint him. Send me the info when you can.”

Sandra nods then calls out to Jason. “I’m heading out now, Jason! You know you can call me any time you need anything.”

Jason hurries down the stairs to tell Sandra goodbye. “Thanks, Miss Sandra. See you soon.”

After I close and lock the door, I turn to Jason. “What do you think? Should we finish unpacking your stuff and then order pizza for dinner?”

Jason shrugs. “I unpacked everything already. There wasn’t much.” My heart pangs. His eyes light up as he adds, “Pizza would be awesome, though! Can I have plain cheese?”

“You can have any toppings you want. Or lack of toppings,” I say with a smile.

“I’ll even order extra so we can have leftovers tomorrow.

” Quickly placing an order for medium cheese and medium pepperoni pizzas in the app, I toggle the delivery option on.

Usually, I don’t pay the extra cost to get delivery, opting for carry-out instead.

But for tonight, I think we’ll stay put.

“What would you like to do?” I ask Jason. “We could play a board game or watch a movie. What sounds fun to you?” I have no idea what he likes to do at home in the evenings. Then again, I don’t know how many options he’s been given in the past.

Jason requests a movie, so we find a good option on Netflix while we wait for the pizza. When the pizza arrives, we pause the show to eat at the kitchen table.

“Jason, I thought we should maybe talk about what you want to call me. I know you’re used to calling me Miss Collins at school, and that’s fine if that still feels most comfortable to you right now.

Like we’ve talked about over the past couple of months, I’m going to be your mom for the rest of your life, okay?

Nothing’s going to change that. But you don’t have to call me ‘Mom’ if that doesn’t seem right to you.

You can still call me Miss Collins or Danae—I’ll answer to anything for you.

” I smile warmly so that Jason will sense my sincerity.

He slowly chews his bite of pizza, a contemplative look on his face.

I first met Jason when he came to Trailridge Elementary as a first grader.

It was my first year as the school librarian instead of teaching one of the third-grade classes.

He immediately burrowed his way into my heart with his love for the library and his need for love.

Jason left our school for a few months in second grade during a stint in foster care.

I was worried sick about him the entire time he was gone, praying for his well-being every night.

Thankfully, he came back when he moved back in with his dad.

Trailridge remained a consistent place for him throughout the subsequent cycles in and out of the foster system; sometimes he was with his grandmother and sometimes with other foster families.

“How about I call you Miss Danae?” Jason announces, eyes lighting up with his idea.

I grin to show my approval. “I think that sounds perfect. Do you have any nicknames that you like to be called?”

Jason’s face falls, and I wish I could walk back that question. “Not really . . . sometimes my dad used to call me Jase,” he says quietly. He fervently adds, “But I don’t want you to call me that.”

“You got it. I bet we’ll think of the perfect nickname for you soon. Although, I love the name Jason, so maybe I won’t even need a nickname for you,” I say, relieved when his smile returns.

After we’re done eating, we return to the couch to finish the movie.

I’ve been around Jason at school for three-and-a-half years, so I’m well-acquainted with his personality—his sweet demeanor as well as his outbursts.

I can tell he’s making an effort to be on his best behavior tonight.

Somehow, I want to communicate to him that this is a safe place to be himself.

That this is home, and he’s secure here with me .

That I’m not leaving. That he’s not leaving.

But maybe a long, heartfelt speech isn’t quite what he needs on his first night as my son.

At 8:30 p.m., I tuck Jason into bed after he’s brushed his teeth. “Would you want me to read a little bit of the next Harry Potter book aloud before you go to sleep?” I ask.

His eyes light up, and he sits forward in bed. “Yes, please!”

Despite all of the struggles he’s faced in life, Jason’s been an avid and advanced reader from the beginning.

In fact, maybe it’s because of the struggles, not in spite of them.

I certainly understand the comfort of escaping your life circumstances through a novel.

At the end of last school year, I encouraged Jason to try the first book in the Harry Potter series.

As I suspected, he was instantly hooked.

He read the first two novels on his own, and he checked out the third book from the school library this week.

I briefly return to the living room to grab my own well-worn copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban from the bookshelf then settle on the bed next to Jason. “How far have you read?” I ask.

“I only had time to read the first two chapters,” Jason responds. “I didn’t have a lot of time to read this week.”

Tears prick my eyes again, and I put my arm around his shoulders to give him a little squeeze. “Totally understandable. We’ll read chapter three tonight then.”

Inch by inch, Jason leans closer to my side as I read, pulled by the gravity of sleepiness or love, or perhaps both. By the end of the chapter, he’s snuggled against my shoulder, and it’s all I can do to finish reading rather than wrap both arms protectively around him.

Standing up, I motion across the hallway.

“My room is right over there, and I’ll leave both of our doors open in case you need anything.

” My preference would be to keep his door closed for the sake of fire safety, but I know his need to feel safe trumps hypothetical fires.

“If you wake up scared because you forget where you are, call out for me or come on over to my room, okay?”

Jason nods before scooting down in bed. He looks so small, so vulnerable, tucked under my old quilt, eyes peering up at me.

“I love you, Jason,” I murmur, giving him a soft smile. He smiles back and nods again before rolling over toward the wall. I turn off the overhead light, double checking that the night light pushes away enough of the darkness in the room.

After loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counter, I sit at the small dining table and take a deep breath.

I run my fingers over the familiar scratches in the wood, courtesy of whoever previously owned my second-hand find.

Slowly exhaling, I pull out my phone to text my best friend.

Kara teaches music at Trailridge, and she’s become a true friend in addition to a colleague.

He’s here and settled in.

KARA

How’s he doing? How are YOU doing?

I think he’s ok. Probably overwhelmed, but he seems happy to be here.

KARA

And you?

Same. Overwhelmed, but happy he’s here. I know I’ve been preparing for this for a couple of months, but I’m not sure anything could have prepared me to flip a switch and suddenly be a mother.

What if I screw this up? What if I wasn’t the best choice for Jason?

KARA

Are you having second thoughts about your decision?

Absolutely not. Nothing could change my mind.

KARA

Which in and of itself is a miracle, Miss Pro/Con lists for days, only to second-guess her decision, make more lists, waffle on her choice again, and then repeat.

Ha ha. If you’re trying to ease my mind with jokes, I guess you accomplished your mission. Only not really because I’m still freaking out. I’m not afraid I made the wrong decision, I’m just afraid that I can’t give him everything he needs. That he won’t feel secure with me as a single mom.

KARA

You’re going to be an amazing mother, Danae. It’s not going to be easy, but I know you can do it. It might be different than me taking Millie home from the hospital, but I guarantee you I didn’t know what I was doing either. No parent does.

I know, but I’m still worried that I won’t be able to provide everything he needs. A single teacher’s salary isn’t exactly top-tier financial security.

KARA

You had abundant financial security growing up, and look where that got you with your parents.

Fair point.

KARA

You already love Jason so much. You’re going to be there for him in every way you can. That counts the most.

Thanks for the pep talk. I might need a lot of pep talks.

KARA

I got you. We’re all here for you, the whole staff team. Text me tomorrow to let me know how things are going, ok?

Will do.

“Miss Danae?” Jason’s voice startles me, and I look up to see him standing by the couch.

“What is it?” I ask, jumping up.

“I can’t fall asleep,” Jason says. “I’m not used to it being so quiet.”

“Oh, right,” I say. “Would you want me to try downloading a sound machine app on the tablet? Maybe some ambient noise would help.”

Once I get the white noise going for Jason, I decide I may as well go to bed early. It’s been an exhausting, emotionally-charged day. If we’re going to go shopping tomorrow for a bedspread plus Christmas decorations, then I need to get some rest.

As I lie in bed snuggled under the white down comforter, I try to quiet all the “what if” questions pummeling my thoughts.

In the end, I get very little sleep.

Page 1

Table of Contents