“Where do you think your bags could go?” Joyce asked, gesturing at Natalie’s suitcase and backpack.
“Wherever.” Natalie had a stubborn tilt to her chin as she set the bags inches from the door, not venturing further into the space. “Where’s the room for James?”
“Right across the hall.” Managing to keep his same cheery smile even in the face of Natalie’s underwhelming reaction to the room, Teddy opened the door to the other kid’s room. This one was a cheery yellow with green and white bedding. Once they learned the kids’ ages, Teddy had declared that the room looked too old for James and had added some stuffed dinosaurs and age-appropriate books along with a Minecraft poster for the wall. Teddy was good at little details like that, but like Natalie, James didn’t seem overly impressed.
“Would Snuggles like to sit with the dinosaurs?” Teddy gestured at the white polar bear James was toting under one arm. They’d already made Snuggles’s acquaintance at the front door when Joyce had done the introductions. The bear made James seem even younger than he had at their first meeting at Joyce’s office. He was small for his age, short and squat where Natalie was long and lanky.
“Maybe he stays with me.” James at least entered his new room, but he kept his eyes guarded. He made his way over to the poster with all the blocky characters. “Do you have Minecraft for real?”
Teddy nodded. “I set up my old laptop for you both to share in the living room. Joyce told me you like that game, so I put that and a few others for you to try. Do you want to see?”
“Yeah,” James said softly. It didn’t take long before both kids and Snuggles were situated on the couch with the laptop on a tray table in front of them.
“See? Little victories.” Joyce smiled broadly as they stepped into the foyer by the front door. “We need to give them time. They’ve had a rough few weeks. Grandma Ivy’s stroke. Staying with the great-aunt as an emergency placement but learning that they can’t stay there permanently. The rooms you both prepared look amazing, and they’ll explore more when they’re ready.”
Teddy nodded vigorously. “Yep. We’ll do dinner and take it from there.”
Nick’s back tightened at the thought of Joyce leaving, but he nodded as well.
“Great. I’ve got another home visit before my own supper, but I’m only a call away. I’ll keep the cell with me all night, and then check with you in the morning.” Joyce shook both their hands before talking to the kids a final time and heading out.
“Are you hungry?” Returning to the kids, Teddy was still in cruise director mode, clapping his hands together. “Nick’s going to make pasta with a meat sauce. Joyce said that’s something you both like.”
“No sauce on top.” James made a face.
“He only likes it all stirred together,” Natalie explained with the weary sigh of an older sibling tired of translating.
“And cheese,” James added.
“If they have any.” Natalie sounded wary, like even expecting Parmesan might mean more hope than she could muster right then.
“We do have cheese. And I can toss the pasta and sauce together, no problem.” At last, here was something Nick could do. He’d been trailing behind Teddy all day. All week really, hoping they were making the right decision, not only for themselves, but also for these kids.
Nick had been responsible for entire battalions in the army, but nothing compared to the weight in his chest when he thought about all the ways they might screw this up. Teddy wanted this to work so badly, and Nick desperately wished he could do more than boil some noodles to make that happen.
“Mom and Grandma Ivy make the best spaghetti.” James’s lower lip came out.
“James,” Natalie warned in a low voice. “Remember. We can’t talk about Mom here—”
“Of course, you can. If you want to.” Teddy shifted from cruise director to social worker mode, voice a reassuring pitch. Nick always envied him that skill. “Joyce said your Aunt Iris packed some pictures for you. I was thinking, after dinner we can put them on your shelves and you can tell us more about your mom and Grandma Ivy.”
“Aunt Iris said not to make you sad, talking about Mom.” Natalie shifted on the couch, as if she felt bad tattling on their great aunt. They’d met Aunt Iris at Joyce’s office. Nice older woman, the kind who always liked to smooth things over. She was eighty with numerous health problems of her own, didn’t drive, and wasn’t up for the long-term challenge of two energetic kids. But she and Grandma Ivy were the only real family the kids had, no other options for relative placement.
“I’m sure she meant well,” Nick said, trying for diplomacy with a ten-year-old, and not sure whether it would work. “But your mom and Grandma Ivy, they’re part of you. We want to hear about them. And Aunt Iris too.”
Nick was hardly an expert on keeping memories alive as he had so many from his own childhood he kept tightly buried, but it seemed like the right thing to say. And he did want to know, wanted to serve the food how the kids liked it, wanted them to have whatever it took to feel more comfortable.
“Aunt Iris had a son. He died. But he had a husband. I saw a picture of them at a parade.” It was the most words Natalie had strung together yet. “She doesn’t like to talk about him, though. Says it makes her heart hurt.”
“It’s always sad when we lose someone we love. But a lot of people find talking helps.” Teddy smiled at the kids. Nick tried to do the same. Aunt Iris had been more open to the idea of a same-sex marriage and parenting partnership than Nick had expected, but given her past, that openness made more sense now.
“Do you go to parades?” James asked, leaning forward, more curious than he’d been so far.
“Sometimes. They can be fun.” Teddy’s shrug managed to encompass everything from Pride Parades to Independence Day celebrations. Nick was impressed.
“Do you like parades?” Nick asked, thinking ahead to the annual holiday parades that would be upcoming around the area. “Maybe we can find a holiday parade next month—”
“We might not be here that long.” Natalie’s expression was mutinous, daring Nick and Teddy to object. “Joyce said sometimes things don’t work out.”
“That’s true. Sometimes they don’t,” Teddy agreed, sounding more pragmatic than usual. More like…Nick. Damn. Maybe the situation was already wearing away some of Teddy’s eternal optimism.
“But sometimes they do.” Nick felt honor bound to play the role of Teddy here. “And maybe none of us know yet exactly how this is going to go. We’ll have to figure it out together.”
Not having a clear plan and road map was making Nick’s skin all tight and itchy. He lived for plans. But the simple fact was that there wasn’t a magic spreadsheet or guide book coming to save them all. They’d all have to learn on the job, so to speak, which was more than a little terrifying.
But something he’d said must have been okay because James smiled. “Like a puzzle?”
“Like a puzzle,” Teddy agreed, meeting Nick’s eyes. “We’ll have to work together.”
Nick hoped it would be enough, that they could figure this parenting thing out on the fly because the last thing he wanted was to be another thing that didn’t work out for these kids.