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Relaxing on my parents’ patio, I breathed in the fresh air, enjoying the sound of the wind in the leaves. It was good to be home.
Mom set a glass of iced tea on the table next to me.
I preferred coffee, but when I was home, I loved Mom’s teas. She shopped at Hailey’s Spice & Tea Shoppe, bringing home a new flavor to sample each time. This one tasted like passionfruit.
Sitting on the Adirondack chair next to me, she asked, “How are you feeling?”
I grimaced. “Everything hurts, but Colton said it will get better. I just need to get past these first few days.”
Mom traced the edge of her glass with her finger. “I’m sure that’s true, but I meant how are you feeling otherwise?
I let out a breath. “I’m a little shaky. Even with what happened at Hailey’s shop and Max’s, I thought the police had the guy, and I was safe. I guess I didn’t really think this would happen to me.”
Mom looked out over the yard, quiet for a few seconds as if gathering her thoughts. “When you girls came to live with us, I just wanted you to feel safe.”
I held my glass in my hands, listening intently. I loved hearing about when we came to live with them because she genuinely loved us from the moment we came home.
“The worry came later. But at the time, my only thought was love. I didn’t think my capacity for love could get bigger, but almost instantly, it did. I loved you and your sister on sight. I wanted to do whatever it took to help you feel stable and secure.”
“You did. It took a while for us to believe it was permanent. Then we had to go back.” I was conflicted about that, too, because I’d missed my bio parents, but I’d come to love my foster parents.
“I never wanted to influence how you felt about your biological parents. I know they loved you too. I wanted you to have everything you needed in life. I wanted you to feel loved.”
“I did have everything I needed.” I wasn’t sure where she was going with this.
Mom looked at me. “I think Colton feels responsible for what happened to you.”
Remembering our conversation this morning, I said, “He does. But it’s not his fault.”
“Does he believe that?” Mom asked, her tone tinged with concern.
I shook my head. “No, and I don’t know how to convince him otherwise. I think it might be something he needs to figure out on his own.”
“You’re a spiritual person. Give him love and kindness; be patient with him. He’ll come around,” Mom said gently.
Warmth and love for my mom wrapped around my heart. “I hope so.”
The phone rang, and I grabbed it, thinking it was Colton. It was an unknown number. “Hello?”
Whoever it was cleared their throat before answering, “Hey, it’s Dexter. Colton’s coworker.”
I ignored the pang of disappointment that it wasn’t Colton. “I know who you are.”
Mom went inside, presumably to give me privacy.
“I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing after yesterday.” Dexter’s voice brought me back to our conversation.
I drew in a shaky breath. “I’m okay.”
I didn’t even want to think about what it meant that it wasn’t Colton who was calling me. Had he decided I was too much trouble for him? That he didn’t love me after all? The assault yesterday shook me more than I thought. I was questioning everything.
I needed Colton, and he wasn’t here, but I was afraid to ask Dexter why that was.
“You taking care of yourself?”
I was touched that this man, likely Colton’s friend, was standing in for him. “I’m with my parents. They’re taking good care of me.”
