“There’s more to life than finding the next man,” she said.
“Way more, especially in your case,” he said. “You gave up so much. He cost you so much...”
“So now I’m finding the balance in life. And apparently you already found it. But hey—the next time you have a date or whatever it is you have, just tell me you’re going to the library and I’ll be sure to cover for you.”
Rob looked amused. “You should go to the library sometime, Sid. And I could cover for you.”
“I think it’s going to be quite a while before I need you for that.”
The family is one of nature’s masterpieces.
—GEORGE SANTAYANA
6
CONNIE BOYLE WAS on his twenty-four-hour shift but he took a little personal time to go home. He wanted to talk to Sierra right away. He didn’t think he should wait until his shift ended the next morning, although he did suspect it might be better if they slept together after having their talk.
“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” she said when he walked into the house they shared. She’d just been emptying the dishwasher. “Are you home for dinner?”
“I have a couple of hours,” he said. “And we have that leftover lasagna.”
“Let me make a salad to go with that and warm it up.” She stopped what she was doing and looked at him. “Is something wrong?”
He sat down across the breakfast bar from her. Molly immediately stuck her cold nose into his hand for a pet. “Yeah. It was a bad day. There was an accident. A fatal accident. But there was a survivor. A four-month-old baby boy. We don’t even know his name.”
“Oh, Connie,” she said. She walked around the breakfast bar and put her arms around him. “Sometimes I don’t know how you do what you do.”
“Sometimes I don’t, either.”
“Is he going to be okay? The baby?”
“Looks like it but he’s getting an extrathorough workup.”
“When did it happen?” she asked.
“This morning. There were three cars, out on the highway, but only one fatality. Plenty of injuries, though. And one car caught on fire. Everyone got out—just some minor burns. But the baby... There was just him and the mother and she died at the scene.” He shook his head. “They’re going to be looking for the family, but in the meantime, he’s in emergency foster care. Tonight Rafe will take him home.”
“Rafe?”
“Rafe and Lisa are certified foster parents.”
“Those two,” Sierra said. “Aren’t they just pure gold? Three kids of their own, living on a fireman’s wages, and they take in foster kids, too.”
“Well, it’s because they have three of their own that they’re only signed on for emergency foster care. That means just until permanent placement is found.”
“He probably has family, Connie. A dad at least. Grandparents. Aunties and uncles and cousins. If anything happened to Cal and Maggie, God forbid, I would raise Elizabeth.”
“You’re probably right. The county will be looking. Meanwhile, he’ll be safe with Rafe and Lisa. But it brought something to mind I want to talk to you about. I’m going to ask you a very hard question but you can take your time on the answer.”
“You really know how to scare me,” she said.
“Oh, honey, don’t ever be scared. Your answer is final with me, you know that. But here’s what I want to know. Would you consider being a foster parent?”
She was clearly flabbergasted. “Huh?”
“I understand your worries about having children with me—primarily your father’s mental illness in the gene pool. I am not worried about it, but I leave that up to you. I don’t want you to ever go against your best judgment to keep me happy. But foster care might be something we can do together. If you like being around kids, that is. I see you with Elizabeth and you’re so good with her. See, I’m already certified. And since I was single and working, I did what Rafe did—I was available for short-term coverage.”
“I didn’t know that,” she said. “How could you be? You’re not even married! Do they let single men be foster parents?”
He nodded. “And domestic partners and young couples and older couples and all kinds of unique situations. There’s a pretty serious evaluation process but things like gender or sexual orientation are not disqualifiers—there are much more important considerations. They want to be assured of home safety, dependability, knowledge, and there’s a background check. Then there are those home visits...”
“But you never had any foster kids...”
“Not in a while, but before we moved in together I had a few temporary kids. The longest was two weeks until his relatives were located. The youngest was four—what a pistol he was. Lisa helped out while I worked. I had a teenager once. A girl. That was the most complicated. I was obviously the only resort—they don’t usually place a teenage girl with a bachelor but she was out of options. It was me or juvenile detention. Lisa and Rafe went to bat for me and promised they’d be around daily, and they were. It was only a few days. They found her a good permanent foster home almost right away. She’s doing great.”
“Oh my God, I’m totally stunned,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I never thought of it. For no particular reason, the county hasn’t called me or Rafe and Lisa in a year. Since we met, it hasn’t come up.”
“Oh God, did it come up today?”
He briefly hung his head. “I had this little regret seeing Rafe hanging around the hospital waiting to take the baby home. And I thought, Why didn’t I talk to Sierra about this? Because you love taking care of Elizabeth and we both wish we could have kids around but you don’t think we should have them. And he’s so... He’s in good hands with Lisa and Rafe and their brood...”
“He’s so what?” she asked.
“He’s so vulnerable,” Connie said. “This makes no sense but I asked myself, what if that was me? What if I had no parents? What if I lost everything in one second and my whole future depended on if a conscientious, reliable family took me in?”
“Oh my goodness, you’re reeling me in... We’re not even married!”
“We should probably do that one of these days, Sierra.”
“We will!”
“Okay,” he said. Because he never pushed her. Too much. “Will you think about it?”
“Connie, why are you doing this?”
“Well, obviously I can’t bring home a kid without you being on board—you live here. This is your home.”
“I mean, why are you a foster parent?”
He sighed and raked his hands across his chest. “You know, every now and then there’s a kid. Maybe he was pulled out of a bad home situation, maybe there was a fire or accident, maybe a kid was abandoned. About ten years ago a guy took his son into a diner and left him in the booth to go out to his car to get his wallet and never came back. A little kid. Who does something like that? Anyway, every once in a while, there’s a kid who needs a place to stay. I just like to help out. Want me to put that lasagna in the microwave?”
“Let me do it,” she said.
* * *
When Sierra first moved to Colorado a little over a year ago, she stayed in a little one-room cabin at Sullivan’s Crossing. Sully had the coffee going by around five in the morning and Sierra would join him in the general store for her early-morning coffee. A few days a week she’d go on to work at the diner in town. That coffee wasn’t all that gave her a good start on the day; she was also fortified by her conversations with Sully. He had a way of zeroing in on her issues and making her think. Because of that, she’d occasionally still get up extra early and drive out to the Crossing just to have coffee with him.
She could see the light was on in the back of the store so she parked back there and gave a couple of warning knocks before opening the unlocked door. “Morning,” she said. “You ever think about locking that door? I mean, it’s dark as pitch and you’re here alone...”
“And didn’t you just bring your best sunshine into the room,” Sully said. Molly rushed to him, wagging her tail madly. “And I suppose this freeloader wants breakfast, too?” he said, bending to give her a robust rub.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Sierra said. “I’m working today so I’ll swing by the house and drop her off on my way.”
He poured her a cup of coffee. “Connie working?” he asked.
“He gets off in a few hours. He was on all night. Sully, did you know Connie was a foster parent? I mean, a certified one?”
“Hmm, I don’t believe I did. I know he helps out with kids all the time. I knew he’d had a couple stay with him just because he was helping out. I didn’t know he was any kind of official foster parent.”
“Rafe and Lisa take in foster kids—short-term. They have a four-month-old baby at the moment—his mother died in a car accident.”
“That big one? Over on the freeway?”
She nodded, sipping her coffee. “Connie wanted to bring him home but he didn’t want to do that to me. He asked me to think about signing up for that—to be a foster parent. I don’t feel particularly qualified.”
“What would qualify you?” Sully asked.
“Experience, for one thing.”
He laughed. “Not very many regular parents start out with experience. I certainly didn’t. I imagine they have a program. And probably a test,” he added with a chuckle. He waited for her to say something. “I suppose you’re about to tell me why this bothers you.”
“It’s personal,” she said. “I’d like it to be between us. I mean, I talked to Connie but no one else. Do you still want to know?”
“I ain’t gonna beg, but I don’t usually find the need to talk about personal things. It’s up to you.”