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“They’re all boys? Is it an all-boys home?”
“No, it just happened to be that way. We never know who is going to be staying at the home at any given time. New kids come in at all hours of the day, and some are getting fostered and even sent back to their families.”
“Is that a good idea? I mean, they were taken for a reason, right?”
“Yes. Some cases, yes, it’s a very good thing. Then there are cases that it’s not. It all depends on the reason they were removed from the home, and if that issue, whatever it might have been, has been resolved. It’s mostly drugs that we’re seeing.”
“Damn, babe. I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s difficult, but I enjoy it. I just hate all the red tape. It’s really heartbreaking when you see the same child in and out of the home because the parents or guardians can’t seem to get it together.”
“I bet.” She’s tough, but I know this gets to her. She’s said several times over the last couple of weeks that she wishes she could do more. I dropped the hint she could look for a job in Indianapolis, closer to me. She kind of brushed off my suggestion. She might have forgotten or thought that I did, but I’m just buying my time to bring it up again.
“I need to get going.” She drapes her purse over her shoulder and grabs her keys from the table. “What are you doing today?”
“I don’t know yet.” It’s a lie. I know exactly what I’m doing today, but it’s a surprise for her.
“All right. Well, this goes until midafternoon. So, I won’t be home before then. I’ll see you tonight?”
Is that hope I hear in her voice? “I’ll be here.” I stand and follow her to the door. “Have a good day, babe.” Leaning in, I kiss her temple. “Love you.” She doesn’t say it back, but her eyes soften. I know she feels it. The love we share. She just needs a little more time to be convinced I’m not going anywhere.
I wait about ten minutes after she leaves to pull the boxes I’ve been hiding out of the closet. I called the public relations department of the Defenders and asked for some jerseys and other Defenders gear. I had them send some pink for the girls, but it looks like it’s just my girl who’s going to need that one. Her jersey was special order. I’ll take it today, just in case. I was going to leave all the other pink jerseys here, but I think I’ll just sign them too and leave them at the home for any future Little Miss Football Fans who might come through the doors.
I spend the next hour signing thirty jerseys, some foam footballs, and posters. Mary, the lady who handles the Defenders PR, also threw in some stickers and temporary tattoos. I rebox it all, and it doesn’t fit as well as it did before I unpacked it. Shrugging, I leave the lid open, grab my keys, phone, and tap my back pocket to make sure I have my wallet. Thankfully, there is an elevator. I’m not about to try to break my neck carrying this big-ass box down the stairs to get to my truck.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot of the children’s home. I leave the box in the back seat for now as I go in search of Reese.
“Hi, can I help you?” a teenage girl asks. She’s wearing a name tag that reads Sage and has volunteer written underneath it.
“Hi, Sage. I’m looking for Reese Latham.”
“Sure, is she expecting you?” she asks, sounding way more grown up than she looks.
“She’s not. I was kind of hoping to surprise her.” I wink, and her face flushes.
“I-I’m not supposed to let just anyone in,” she says with apology in her voice.
“Are you Cooper Reeves,” a little boy asks, staring up at me.
He couldn’t be older than nine or ten. I crouch down to his level. “I am. What’s your name?”
“Travis. You’re my favorite player,” he says with awe.
“Thank you, Travis.” I hold my hand out for him to shake, and he doesn’t hesitate to slide his small, frail hand in mine. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Are you here to foster?” he asks, his eyes wide.
Fuck, that’s a kick to the balls. These kids, I don’t know how Reese does this every day. “No, but I am here to help. I’m looking for my girlfriend, Reese.”
If I thought his eyes were wide before, they’re the size of saucers now. “You’re Ms. Reese’s boyfriend?” he asks.
I nod. “You think you could help me find her?” I ask him. His little head is bobbing up and down like crazy before I even get the question out. I look up at Sage. “Is that okay? I’m one of the good guys, I promise,” I tell her.
