Page 27 of This Reckless Home

This past week, well, it’s been one of the best of my life. Normal, like we’re part of a family. I’ve found a job that pays decent and the boss at the construction company is talking about taking me on permanently. Nox is working at the coffee shop, something I know is not what he wants to do forever but, in his words, he doesn’t know what he wants to be when he grows up. It looks like Steele might be getting a job at the mechanics after Blossom introduced him yesterday, something he’s wanted to do ever since I’ve known him.

Something that may not have happened without Blossom’s help.

My mind flits back to the larder, back to the way she grew breathless, like she wasn’t stealing my air too.

“Hey, bro,” Steele calls, interrupting my swirling thoughts. “Tina asked if we could help set up for Family Day. There are chairs and tables in the garage that need to go in the garden.”

“Sure,” I reply, and he gives me a look, then a smirk but doesn’t say a fucking thing as I follow him.

It takes the rest of the morning to set up, and I only catch glimpses of Blossom, flitting about the place as she sorts everything. I find myself waiting for a sighting, my mind only half on the jobs Tina keeps giving us.

The sound of children’s laughter fills the garden, the late spring sunshine warming my neck as people start to arrive. And it’s more than a few. There are several older teenagers who’ve clearly aged out, some who bring friends or partners. There are also younger kids, who seem to have brought family and I wonder how they got back with them. A few look like parents, but most look older like grandparents or aunts and uncles.

Blossom greets all of them, laughing and genuinely interested in how they’re doing and what they’re up to. So many give her hugs and I’m just fucking blown away. Steele told us she’s been fostering for six years, yet so many have come through her doors, and they all look happy. I catch her once, between hugs, when nobody's looking her way — the smile slipping for just a second, something tired and almost sad underneath it, before she catches herself and turns it back on for the next kid running at her. Something in my chest constricts.

Don arrives, the pizza delivery guy, a girl the same age as him shyly hanging on his arm. He introduces Blossom to her, and I watch as she immediately puts the girl at ease, drawing her out and soon has her laughing.

“She really is something, huh?” Steele asks, handing me a beer as he comes up next to me.

I open my mouth. Close it. Then open it again, only to take a swig of my beer.

He chuckles. “Yeah. She’s good for Jus. Us too.”

I look at him for a moment, see him smiling. I can’t remember the last time he did that out in public.

“It’s like…” I cut myself off, letting out a breath of air. “It’s like a real family.”

“Yeah, it is.”

The realisation hits me in the gut. This is what family looks like. This is what I want our family to look like. For Jus. For us. For me.

My gut churns, the beer going sour in my mouth.

We said we’d leave when we got on our feet. But how can I take Jus away from all this?

A girl steals my focus, slinking up to us, her gaze coy and focused on me.

“Hi, you must be Anatole,” she says, all breathy.

“Yeah,” I answer, taking another drink and forcing a smile on my face. “Nice to meet you…?”

“Oh!” She titters and my right eye twitches. “Silly me.” She places a hand on my folded arm and I tense. I don’t like strangers touching me. “I’m Julia. I came through here last year. Just for a few months while I waited to age out.”

I look at her, noting that she looks around eighteen, though she’s wearing far too much make up and her dress is short and low. My jaw clenches. She may have aged out, but eighteen is still a kid and it’s like she’s trying to play dress up in her mama’s clothes.

Movement catches my eye, and I look over to find Blossom watching us from across the patio, a deep furrow in her brow. My chest tightens, hating the flash of hurt that flits through those hazel eyes of hers — the same eyes that were glowing this morning when she watched me in the pantry.

MINE.

The word bounces around my head, and I’m taking a step away from the young girl before I’ve realised what I’m doing.

“Well, best get going. Lots to help with, Judy,” I tell her, walking away.

“It’s Julia!” she calls, but I don’t give a fuck.

The only girl I care about is the one who’s now talking to one of the adults, avoiding looking in my direction and a low growl escapes me.

“What the fuck is up your ass?” My kid brother steps in front of me and I huff a sigh.