It takes a toll on her and all the caseworkers.
"Yes. No." She sighs. "I can't talk about it, but I can't leave this kid here..."
I glance at the clock, and it's fifteen minutes until school finishes for the day. "Do you need me to pick up Kyra?"
"Could you?" she asks.
"Of course. It's no problem. Does she have anything afterwards?"
"She's got dancing, but she can miss this week."
Ferrying kids to various activities is a study in logistics that would put any military unit to the test.
"She's not missing it. I'll drop her off before I take Sam to soccer."
Alana sounds relieved. "Thanks Amos. I might be a while here. I don't want to leave this kid alone."
She trails off, and I hear the sadness in her voice. She'd take them all in if she could.
"Do what you need to do. I'll take Kyra back to mine after dancing, and she can have dinner with us. You join us when you can."
Alana sighs with relief. "You're a life saver, Amos."
"No," I say softly. "You are."
She hangs up as I pull onto the school road and park. There's already a crowd at the gate, and I make polite conversation with the other parents until I see Sam running toward me. Paige was right about that; the damned kid runs everywhere.
"We need to find Kyra. She's coming with us today."
"Cool." Sam scans the kids until he spots her.
I collect them both, and Kyra chats about her art project while I get them in the car.
"I'm hungry," Kyra says
Six months of parenting has taught me a lot, and one of the best lessons is to always bring extra snacks.
I toss them a canvas bag filled with food.
"There's a bag of apples and some chocolate popcorn." Which is about as healthy a snack as I can get down them.
With Kyra fed and dropped off to dance class, Sam and I head to the soccer field.
I volunteered to coach the team, and I take the boys through their drills in preparation for the game on Saturday. They're still at an age where they follow the ball around and don't like to pass. But Sam always has a grin on his face afterwards, and that's all that matters.
After collecting Kyra from dance class, we head back to mine and Sam's apartment.
By the time Alana joins us a few hours later, the kids are fed on chicken nuggets and chips with a helping of vegetates, all pulled from the freezer. Alana was right about keeping easy meals in the freezer for nights like this.
She arrives at seven looking tired and worn. I don't question her about the case in front of the kids. I just offer her a beer and a plate of nuggets. She accepts them gratefully, and we make small talk about the day while Kyra gyrates around the room showing us her latest dance moves.
While Alana eats, I resist the urge to take her in my arms and smooth away the stress of her day. The last six months have been exquisite torture. I've loved getting to know Alana and Kyra, but I ache to hold her.
I've been true to my word and not pushed anything more than friendship. Sometimes I've had to keep my distance to stop from crashing through the boundaries she put up. On nights like this, when the four of us hang out together like a family, it's damned hard not to push for more.
As she sips her beer, I palm my fists watching her. One day I hope that will all change.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" I ask, hoping to steer her mind toward nicer things.
