The Home We Had to Earn
Chapter 17 - The Home We Had to Earn
Wanting to take in a child is not the same as being ready.
I learned that fast.
There were interviews.
Home inspections.
Training sessions.
Background checks.
References.
Questions about Caroline’s death, my work hours, my finances, my temper, my parenting, my relationship with Vanessa.
Lily was interviewed separately.
She came out annoyed.
“They asked if I’m jealous.”
“What did you say?”
“I said yes.”
I blinked.
She shrugged.
“I might be. Sometimes. But I still want him here.”
That answer, I later learned, impressed the evaluator more than a perfect one would have.
Mara had every right to be angry.
Instead, she asked to meet me.
We sat on a bench outside the courthouse.
“I spent six years trying to get him back,” she said.
“I know.”
“And now he wants you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I wanted him to have family. Maybe I confused that with needing to be the family.”
I looked at her.
“You are his family.”
“Then maybe my job is to stay.”
That became the plan.
Not a fairy tale.
A structure.
Mara would be in Noah’s life.
I would continue foster licensing.
Noah would have therapy.
No decisions would be rushed because adults wanted an emotionally satisfying ending.
For the first time in his life, the timeline would move at the speed of his safety.
Three months later, Noah came to stay with us on a trial placement.
He arrived with one duffel bag.
Lily had made a sign for his door.
NOAH’S ROOM. KNOCK OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.
He laughed so hard he had to sit on the bed.
That night, I found him awake at two in the morning.
“Can’t sleep?”
He shook his head.
“Do I have to leave if I mess up?”
“No.”
“What if I get angry?”
“No.”
“What if I break something?”
“We’ll probably make you help fix it.”
He looked suspicious.
“What if I say I hate you?”
I sat on the floor beside the bed.
“Then I’ll probably ask if you still want pancakes in the morning.”
He stared at me.
Then he pulled the blanket over his face.
I heard him crying underneath it.
I stayed on the floor until he fell asleep.
The next morning, my former company announced it was suing me for breach of fiduciary duty.
May you like
I had finally brought Noah home.
Now someone wanted to punish me for the road that led him there.
