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Hunter and I darted through the park. The November wind kicked up and I pulled my scarf closer to my neck. The leaves danced over his little feet.
“Come on, Miss Bristow. Hurry up.”
I chased after him. And it hit me how odd it sounded when he said that. I wanted to tell him to say something more personal. But what? Julie? Aunt Julie? Mom? My heart thudded. Because that was what I wanted. I wanted to be his parent. His mom.
But I was a teacher. A volunteer. Someone who tried to show him love and friendship. And I knew how dangerous it was to get any closer to him than I already was. What if his next foster family was twenty miles away? He’d have to change schools. I prayed that wouldn’t happen. Yet, I prayed for him to have a family.
Hunter deserved that. He deserved that mom and dad I saw in the park. He deserved his own room that he could cram full of seashells from beach trips and rocks and sticks he found outside. A place that was his own. Not a cot he shared in a room with six other boys. He needed clothes and shoes he could be proud to wear. He needed a lunchbox and his own pencil case.
And I knew what was looming ahead of us… Christmas. The thought of this child waking up in the group home without family and with no one to hug him killed me. The tears stung the corners of my eyes.
I was wracked with guilt and love. It was an odd combination that tugged my heart to my ribs.
“Miss Bristow, can I do the flight stimulator this time?”
I blinked. “Did you stay stimulator?”
“Yeah, when I get to fly.”
I laughed. “Yes, but let’s call it the simulator, ok?”
He didn’t care. He kept running, chasing the leaves on the sidewalk. And that was the bliss of childhood. The despair he had felt twenty minutes ago was erased by the promise of watching Hawk’s game tomorrow.
One glimmer of hope and all the darkness faded for him.
I sighed. If I only it were that easy for me.
By the time I dropped Hunter off at the home he was exhausted. We had covered every square inch of the museum. I bought him popcorn and a special soda float before we had to leave.
Usually Saturday nights were hard for both of us, but this one was different. We had tomorrow to look forward to. And I knew that was because of Hawk. He had given Hunter something to be happy about.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning after breakfast, ok?” I reminded him.
“I’ll wait right here. On the top step.”
“Ok. Sounds like a plan.” I smiled. I wanted to hug him, but I waited to see which way his body moved.
He put his hands out and I stepped forward, feeling them wrap around me. I inhaled his earthy boy smell and smiled.
“Good night, honey. Try to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Good night, Miss Bristow.”
I handed him over and made s
ure he was on the other side of the partition before I left. I didn’t want a repeat of last night, but I was certain Hunter wouldn’t run away again. He was too excited about tomorrow. And so was I.
21
Kane
From the window in my loft I could see Christmas lights popping up all over the damn city. The holidays meant playoff season to me. Growing up, it had meant waking up to a cold house with a few shitty gifts under the tree.
My mom did her best. I knew she did, but it didn’t make the holidays any sweeter. Instead they were hell. She’d cry all damn day. I didn’t know if it was because she missed my dad. Looking back, it was probably because she was alone. Alone with me.
While she sank into her grief I was left to figure out mine. But what did a kid know about how to deal with feelings? I didn’t get why I hated the holidays until I was old enough to know they were shitty because I had always spent them miserable instead of happy. My world was wrecked because the adults in my life couldn’t get their shit together.
Hell if I was going to let that cycle continue.
