"How do you do it?" I ask in a whisper. "How do you see these kids day after day and not want to take each and every one of them in?"
There's a long sigh on the other end of the phone. "I would take them all in if I could, Amos. It breaks my heart every single time I get another child assigned to me. It's another child who doesn't have an adult they can depend on. Sometimes, like Sam, it's an awful set of circumstances, but too often they've been let down by the adults they should be able to trust."
Anger rises inside me for those kids, and I squeeze my forehead with my thumb and forefinger. "What can I do to help? I can take another kid in."
"Whoa, slow down."
Alana laughs, but I'm deadly serious. There are vulnerable kids who need protecting, and I can take more in.
"One at a time, Amos. You've got Sam to think about now. One kid is a lot for a single parent. See how it goes first before you take on more than you can handle."
"I can handle it."
She chuckles. "Tell me that again when you're trying to get him ready for school while you get ready for work, and there's laundry to be done and dishes and he hasn't done his homework, and someone's been bullying him at school..."
"No one's going to bully my kid. Or I'll come down there and beat the shit out of their dad."
She chuckles, a throaty laugh that sets off all the feelings in my body that tell me being friends with Alana is going to be a study in resistance.
"You think I'm joking?"
"I hope you're joking, Amos. Bullying is a thing, and kids will find any point of difference to latch on to."
There's a tone to her voice that makes me sit up. "Is Kyra being bullied?"
Alana sighs. "Some kids make fun of her because she doesn't have a mom."
"She does have a mom. She has you."
"But she doesn't call me mom, not until I'm sure the adoption is going through. Some kids heard her calling me Alana, and that was it."
"Kids are assholes."
She sighs. "Kids aren't inherently assholes. They learn that behavior."
I sip my beer and think about what she's said. "The label of mom doesn't necessarily mean you're the one who birthed her."
"I know that. Just like the label of dad doesn't just mean the man who provided sperm. If kids could only call their biological dads dad, there'd be a lot of fatherless kids around. But the label doesn't matter. The mom, or the dad, is whoever's raising them."
I end the call with Alana and take a long swig of beer, thinking about our conversation. A dad is the man who raises you. That means one day, Sam might come to think of me as his dad.
I have all the responsibilities of a dad. I'm responsible for raising Sam into a man who's strong and protective but also respectful and kind, who has good manners but also knows how to stick up for himself. Who treats women right and isn't afraid to be emotionally available. It's a big job.
But as I sit in the dark with the TV turned down low, a warm feeling seeps into my chest. It's a big job, but I'm ready for it.
I'm ready to become a dad.
18
ALANA
Three weeks later...
The sound of Kyra's giggle reaches my ears as Sam chases her around the wooden fort.
"Pirates!" she yells, clambering up to the top level and making a spy glass with her hands.
He replies with something about giant crabs before swinging up after her. The wide grin on his face matches my own.
