The Foster Family (45 page)

“Better than the outdoor shower in June?” Charlie asked.

“Oh hell yeah,” I mumbled, resting my head against his shoulder.

He kissed my cheek and secured me with an arm around my shoulder. “I’m keeping him, Mal.”

“I know.” Malcolm pecked my cheek and sighed. “Zigged when you should have zagged, boy,” he told me. “You’re caught now.”

“Mmmm-hmm.” I closed my eyes. “Yeah.”

T
HE
PLANE
trip back to Seattle was easier now that I wasn’t going alone. I probably talked Charlie’s ear off, but he indulged me going on about my new classes and the school’s gardens that had bloomed beautifully, and Matt’s sister, who was in most of my classes and was a funny, interesting girl happy to have someone she knew to hang out with.

From her I had learned that Matt had disconnected his number due to a spate of crank calls, and because he thought it best to have a landline for Allison. She’d complained about him big brothering her to death but had done so with a small smile. It was also through her that I finally reentered Matt’s house as a guest and got to know the man I’d shut out.

Turned out he was a decent kind of guy, and after I’d spent a few weeks bemoaning the missed time our friendship could have grown, Charlie told me to shut up about it and enjoy what we had now. He was right, of course.

It was the crank calls to Matt’s cell that finally proved Jenny had been behind most of the harassment I’d suffered. They had been traced back to her phone, and once cornered, she’d venomously spat out all the ways she’d tried to make my life miserable. I hadn’t bothered to find out what happened to her over it other than she had been under house arrest for a while after I had returned from Seattle. As long as she was accounted for and couldn’t hurt me or my friends or family, I didn’t care about her.

Meanwhile, Charlie listened to me natter, and Malcolm slept in the seat on his other side while Charlie spared a glance now and then to make sure he was comfortable.

“He’s exhausted,” I observed.

“He ignored things for a long time.” Charlie laid a hand over Malcolm’s. “Pretended he wasn’t stressed out, wasn’t quietly losing his shit while I was getting too thin and strung out and desperate.”

“It isn’t like that anymore, though,” I whispered, taking his other hand. “We’ll land soon and get home, and all of us can relax.”

“I’ll relax when I know your tests are all clean.”

I nodded. “Me too.” We settled into silence then. As much as I wanted to treat this trip as a visit home, there was more to it, and I wasn’t the only one affected by what was coming.

Nash, David, and Grey met us at the front door as we all stepped out of the cab. I hoped for smiles and welcome. I got guarded interest.

I expected to be left to gather the luggage from the back, but Malcolm nudged me toward the front door and lifted the bags out himself. “Go say hello.”

Much steadier on his feet now, Grey came down the steps backward and hurried across the lawn to lift his arms imperiously to me.

“Kree!”

I grinned and picked him up. “Hey, brat.”

He planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek and giggled. His solemn eyes twinkled as I carried him back to his parents and gave them both one-armed hugs.

“Good to have you back, Kerry,” David said.

Nash hugged me tight and patted my back, but his gaze was on Malcolm as he approached.

“Sir,” Malcolm said, holding out a hand.

Nash frowned.

“This is Malcolm, Nash,” I said, “And Charlie. Mal, Nash, David, and this”—I hefted Grey and he giggled again—“is Grey.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Malcolm said.

Nash watched him carefully.

“Thank you for everything you did for Kerry this summer,” Malcolm said.

“He’s my son,” Nash rumbled.

“I grew up in foster care too,” Malcolm said. “I know how it usually works, and I’m grateful he had someplace to come when—”

“When you screwed up?” Nash’s eyes glittered, and I moved to step between them, but Charlie took my hand and shook his head, holding me back.

Malcolm met Nash’s gaze and nodded. “When I screwed up,” he agreed. “I never pretended to be perfect. I still don’t.”

Nash nodded. His lips twitched slightly, and at last he held out his hand to Malcolm. “Thank you for coming back with him. For standing with him.”

They shook and Malcolm smiled. “He’s our… ours.”

“Family,” Charlie interjected. “He’s our family, and it doesn’t matter how the tests come out, that won’t change.” He draped an arm over my shoulders and pulled me against his side.

Nash seemed to be reserving his opinion on that, and it was all I could really ask of him at that point. He didn’t know Malcolm and Charlie. He didn’t really understand the dynamic. And I couldn’t deny it was gratifying to realize that he didn’t judge. Much. He only wanted to be sure I was happy and safe.

Dinner that evening was quiet. We’d arrived hours before the blood test appointment, which Charlie drove me to, and we were staying the week until I heard the results.

“Lissa’s past the danger point,” I told them. “Looks like this pregnancy is going to take.” Nash smiled, and David made a soft noise as he caught Grey’s sippy cup diving off the edge of his high-chair tray.

“And I guess Andrew and Jenny are back together.”

Everyone looked at me. “How do you know that?” Malcolm asked, his voice edged with dangerous emotion.

Charlie clamped his big hand on my arm. “Did he—”

“I just see them is all. When I was registering for classes and in the student common sometimes.” I touched Charlie’s hand, and he relaxed his grip. “They wander around hand in hand, heads together and shi—” I glanced at Charlie when his grip tightened. “Sorry.”

He only lifted an eyebrow, and I knew there would be repercussions later, but he said nothing. The swearing was still a big deal, and I still forgot sometimes. Talking about Andrew brought out the vulgarity a bit.

“They looked close. When they saw me, she led him off and he followed like a puppy. It’s a good sign, though.”

“How?”

“She wouldn’t take him back if she thought he was pos. She wouldn’t have anything to do with him if there was a chance.”

“His tests can’t be complete yet, either,” Nash warned.

“I know. But she’s got what she wants, so she’ll leave me alone, and if he wants to pretend that’s what he is, so not my problem. I’m done with him.” I glanced at Charlie. “I have what I want too.”

Charlie smiled grimly.

“You don’t have to worry,” I said. “Allison is as protective as you two are. The one time it looked like Andy was going to try and talk to me, she glared him down and he took off with his tail between his legs. He’s not the same guy he was.”

“You’ll stay away from him,” Charlie growled.

“Yes, Sir.”

He squeezed my hand and picked up his knife to continue eating as if Nash wasn’t staring at him with a dark scowl on his face.

Near the end of the week when the lab called and David handed me the phone was the first time Nash’s forbidding presence lightened. When Charlie and Malcolm sat me down between them on the couch as I took the phone and both put their arms around me as I listened to the lab guy read off a list of negative results, when they both kissed me firmly and glowed at the good news, he finally relented, and that evening, took them out on the front porch for a beer.

Neither of them would tell me what they talked about. When I asked Nash, he shook his head.

“I have a right to know what you said to them.”

“I told them about your parents.”

“They already knew.”

“I told them about Lacy and Grey and about what David and I asked you last spring.” He waited, the pause growing until I realized I was meant to fill it.

“You know I’ll never let anything happen to Grey, Nash. He’s my brother. Of course I’ll sign whatever you need me to sign. Just… live long enough it won’t matter.”

He smiled. “Thank you. That means a lot to us.”

“He’s my brother. What did Mal and Charlie say when you told them you’d asked me?”

Now Nash allowed an almost real smile to flash over his face. “They both assured me you were Grey’s family, and you loved him. That he would never end up in the system.”

“And you’re okay with this, still? Knowing it would be all three of us raising him, if it came to it?”

Nash made a pinched expression, but he nodded. “I can think of far worse things than to have the three of you looking out for him. You do know that might be an uphill battle—”

“Live long enough for it not to matter,” I said again, closing the subject.

He nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“So what else did you tell them about me?” I asked after a few moments.

“Well, I did tell them about high school. And
Wham!
And….”

“And?”

He looked at me over the edge of the glasses he used to read now. “I made sure they understood you’re not alone in the world. They can’t use you and throw you away.”

“Nash!”

“I made sure they understood you have people looking out for you. Keeping an eye on you and caring.”

“They know that too. They are two of those people.”

He nodded and went back to his paper. “I think you’re right about that.”

“I am!”

“I’m still your father, Kerry. I reserve the right to make sure my son is in good hands out in the wide world.”

“You grilled them.”

“I would not have behaved any differently if it was one guy you brought home, or a girl. You’re my son.” He peered at me again. “Capisce?”

I stared at him a moment, then sighed. “Capisce, Papa Nash.”

He smiled that smile and rustled his paper. “You should probably go see to them. I’m sure they’ll want to celebrate the good news.”

“That you approve?”

He laughed. “That too.”

O
UR
SIX
-
MONTH
visit to Seattle was less fraught. I had newborn pictures of Lissa and Marcus’s baby, Alexa, to show off, and Charlie brought work. He and David sat long into the evenings discussing the merits of each negative and choosing which photos to put in his upcoming show.

Malcolm and Nash disappeared into the workshop most days, refusing to let the rest of see what they were working on, and I spent the week playing with Grey and pretending I wasn’t freaking out over waiting for my test results. I needed so badly to know I was safe. I felt it in my bones I was, but I needed that piece of paper before I could allow anything that might put either of my men in jeopardy. And they were anxious for the day we could put it all behind us. The last bit of Andrew Shelton-Bishop in my life, and I wanted it over.

“You’re losing it,” Charlie said one evening about four days after I’d had the blood work done.

“I’m fine.” I was standing in the twilight yard peering at a climbing rose bush, snips in hand and fingers smarting from the thorns. I grabbed the branch I wanted to prune and got stabbed again.

“Why aren’t you wearing gloves?” Charlie snatched my hand from the plant and lifted my fingers to his mouth.

“Hey!” I yanked out of his grasp. “No!”

“You don’t say no to me,” he murmured, a low growl in his voice as he reached for my hand again.

“I do to that. Not until we know.”

“Are you bleeding?”

“Probably.” I tipped my fingertips to the light and tried to see in the deepening gloom.

“Then come in the house and let me take care of it.”

“I’m fine,” I said again.

“Kerry.” He took the sheers from me and stuck them in his pocket.

“What?” I sounded sullen and I knew it. My nerves were frayed, and it was ridiculous to feel this anxious about the whole thing when I was eighty percent certain I was fine. But I couldn’t shake that last twenty, and when I finally looked up at him, I knew he saw it in my expression.

“Come inside.”

“We can’t do this here,” I protested. “Nash isn’t comfortable.”

“Then he can get over it, because this is what you need.” He took my arm and propelled me toward the front door. “He can deal. I’m the boss of you now. Come on.”

He didn’t give me a choice because his grip was not one I could have broken if I’d tried, which I didn’t. I couldn’t pretend his control wasn’t comforting.

Nash looked up when we entered, but Charlie didn’t slow when he opened his mouth, and David laid a hand on his leg and shook his head. I dropped my gaze as we passed.

“All right?” David asked.

Charlie stopped and let me go, turned to face them. “Kerry?” he said.

I lifted my gaze to Nash’s and nodded. “Yes. I’m….” I sighed. “Scared,” I confessed and looked to Charlie, because he knew how to help. “Can we?”

“Of course. Come on.” He tossed a look at Nash, who held his gaze for a moment, then sighed.

“Malcolm wanted some help in the workshop,” he said at last. “I think I’ll go see how he’s doing.” He got up and left the house, and David almost smiled in his wake before looking back to us.

“Night, boys,” he said softly.

“Night,” Charlie said.

“Good night.” I followed him into the guest room we were sharing with Malcolm and stopped just inside when he closed the door.