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Chapter Two

F aith slid the French bread breakfast casserole in the oven to bake. It was a new recipe, and she was hoping the boys liked it. She had also slid bacon in the oven to cook. She’d cut up the fruit last night and tried to keep it easily ready for the boys. They had been in a horrible situation before coming to her six months ago. They had finally started gaining weight. Both had been malnourished and neglected. They were a long-term placement, and she hoped they were learning what a safe home was like.

Watching Slice with the boys last night had brought tears to her eyes. This huge man had taken the time to let the boys cuddle on his lap with Little Buddy and then promised them he wouldn’t let them sleep through Christmas.

In another world, Faith would be falling for him because, besides being smokin’ hot, he had the personality to match. But she knew what she looked like and what men wanted. She’d had enough of men saying, Faith, you’d be a beautiful woman if you’d lose at least sixty pounds. Faith, why don’t you eat a salad sometimes? Faith, have you considered working out? Of course, she didn’t say to them what her brain was thinking.

Stu, have you ever thought of trimming those nose and ear hairs so they don’t look like a rat’s nest? Or, Phil, how about brushing your teeth and tongue? She’d wondered how exactly he got his breath to smell like cow patties. If she were a different type of woman, like the women of the bail bonds in town, she would have smacked both men upside the head with her purse, but she wasn’t. She was a quiet, introverted bookworm who loved to cook, bake, and teach kindergarten.

She wasn’t the kickass woman who saved the world. How many times had she heard, Why don’t you look like your sister? Of course, Hope didn’t allow that kind of talk if she heard it. Her older sister was strong and brave, and with her new haircut, reminded Faith of Jamie Lee Curtis. People always assumed Hope worked out all the time and ate a healthy diet when, in reality, she walked less steps than Faith did and ate the same things.

Hope took after their dad, who had been tall and slender. Faith took after their mom, who had been tall but very full-figured. Multiple times, her mom had been called plus-size, but Faith preferred the book world’s term of big, beautiful women. But most days, Faith didn’t feel beautiful. She loved her thick, wavy hair, and she had boobs for days. But she didn’t like the extra arm fat, her rolls on her tummy, or her thighs always rubbing together. Not that she didn’t like them, but because people judged her because of them.

She poured a cup of coffee and took her first sip. She’d found a caramel creamer that she loved. Even the smell made her smile.

“Is the coffee that good?” Slice asked.

Oh, what that man’s voice did to her.

“It is good. Do you like it black or with creamer? I have flavored sugar free caramel or sugar free French vanilla. I also have some half-and-half because the boys want homemade ice cream for New Year’s so you could use that too,” Faith said, then paused because she didn’t want to babble, but Slice’s dark eyes and his arm tattoos made every brain cell in her head fly out the window.

“I’ll have whatever put that smile on your face,” he said.

Faith grabbed a cup, poured some of the caramel creamer in, then added the coffee. She handed it to him. Slice took a sip and smiled at her.

“This is really good. I might need to buy some for the clubhouse.”

“I like my creamer with enough coffee to give me the caffeine but enough creamer to feel like a treat,” Faith said.

A cry from the bedroom had Faith heading down the hall.

“I can get him,” Slice said, following her.

She giggled. “Are we going to fight about it? I think you got your share during the night. I want to snuggle Little Buddy a little.”

“LB,” Slice said.

“LB what?” she asked.

“The boys decided Little Buddy is too big of a name, and Buddy makes them think of the Elf movie. So LB is what they’ve decided,” Slice said, smiling.

Faith giggled as she lifted LB out of the crib and took him to the changing table. As she unsnapped his sleeper, she talked to him.

“Good morning, LB. I’m so glad you’re here with us today. You have people here who love you so much, and the boys have even given you a nickname,” she said, efficiently changing his diaper and getting him back in his sleeper. She’d had a huge amount of practice since becoming a foster parent. And since she also did the seventy-two-hour emergency care, she had a lot of babies and toddlers who had been at her house. Faith leaned over to kiss LB on the nose before lifting him up and turning toward Slice.

“I guess I need to wash my hands. Could you hold him? Or if I hand him to you, will I lose him for the morning?” Faith teased, loving to see the blush appear above Slice’s beard.

Slice grinned and cuddled LB close to his chest. “I’ll share, though it will be hard.”

Faith quickly washed her hands in the hall bathroom, then opened the door to the boys’ room. She walked over to wake them up but then noticed Micah’s covers were shaking. They were pretending to be asleep. Aww, that did her heart good. When they’d arrived, they’d been scared about everything. Knowing they felt comfortable enough to tease meant she was doing her job.

“Who is ready for Christmas?” she said softly.

Both boys popped up out of bed, yelling, Me !

“Okay, go potty, wash your hands, and then come out to see your Santa gifts,” Faith said.

She headed out to the front room and grabbed her phone to take pictures as she listened to their excited voices while they washed their hands. She couldn’t wait to see the boys when they got presents. She barely got situated in the chair next to Slice, feeding LB, before the boys came skidding into the room.

“Micah, look! Santa filled our stockings,” Isaiah said softly. Faith was positive he was stunned that Santa had actually come last night. These little boys needed to believe there was good in the world. They’d had enough negativity to last a lifetime.

“Can we look in them?” Micah asked.

“Of course,” she said. The boys ran to the stockings and each grabbed the one with their name. Instead of sitting down right there, they ran over to where she and Slice were sitting to open them.

As they pulled their presents out of the stockings and tore through the paper, Faith took pictures. She wanted to remember this moment forever. Isaiah and Micah had stolen a piece of her heart. And she was okay with that.

Listening to the boys oh and ah over their presents filled the empty space in her heart. They still had other presents under the tree, which would really surprise them, but for now, they were showing each other their stocking gifts.

She had started the process to be a foster parent eight years ago when she turned thirty-four, after she received her diagnosis.

She didn’t have a significant other and decided she would check into having a baby on her own. She’d been in a car accident in her teens. They’d had to repair multiple areas in her abdomen. Her doctor had said pregnancy would be unlikely, but that they’d need to check after she was healed. She’d had irregular periods since then but hadn’t checked until she was at the point of wanting children.

When she’d been informed that pregnancy was an impossibility for her, she’d been so angry and devastated. All her dreams had seemed to be crushed.

In all her dreams of the future, she’d imagined a big family. Sure, she’d hoped for a man, but she hadn’t had luck with that. But to receive an unequivocal no, not even a maybe, had caused her to go into a deep depression. She’d gone to work but done the minimum. Hope had taken to calling her every day to gauge how she was doing. When she hadn’t been able to pull herself out of it, Hope had given her an ultimatum—either talk to a professional or Hope was going to move in with her.

Faith had not wanted Hope to have to move, so she’d reluctantly gone to a professional. It had been a turning point for her. Besides talking about her depression, the doctor had worked with Faith to find a prescription that helped her. Over time, she’d understood there wasn’t anything she could change and finally accepted she needed to figure out another way to have the family she wanted. She’d researched foster care and adoption. She’d decided she’d fill her life with children who needed her.

Two years ago, she and her doctor had weaned her off the prescription medication with the admonition that if Faith felt herself falling back into that state, they would revisit adding the medication back in.

Listening to the giggles of the boys reminded her she was right where she was supposed to be. She still yearned to be pregnant with her own baby, but she was at peace with her life now. She might not have a man who cherished her and loved her the way she’d always dreamed, but she had her family. Seeing the happiness on Micah and Isaiah’s faces reminded her why she’d chosen to foster.