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He didn’t even give me a chance to finish my sentence because he was right in front of me, arms around my lower waist. He lowered his forehead against mine. “You don’t understand how much you saying that means to me. That you’d put the girls’ wants and needs above your own even though they’re not yours.”
I swallowed hard, feeling weak with him so near. “Of course. I care about them deeply. I love them.”
He took in a deep breath through his nose and then asked me, “Do you love me?”
His question was unexpected, and it caught me by surprise.Love?I breathed through the next few seconds, careful with my words. I placed one hand on his chest, flattening the collar of his shirt. Oh, how I wanted to say yes, but I’d said yes before and realized later that it was only a facade. So many people had left me or treated me badly, and though I knew Charles would never be that person, it was still difficult to tell if what I felt was real. It was difficult to trust my own emotions and thoughts because they were all jumbled anyway whenever I was around him. And maybe a big part of me didn’t want to jinx this—this epic happiness I’d been feeling simply by being with him.
“We’re new, and it’s amazing, but all that might not matter if the girls—”
“Sarah wants me to be happy.” He smiled. “I told you she was mature beyond her age. And what makes me happy is you, Becky.” His eyes shone with an inner glow, a surety of us that I didn’t have. “I know we’re new. I know this is going super fast. We just had our first date last weekend, but … I know what this is because I’ve been here before.”
He cupped my cheek, and I felt his touch everywhere.
“I love you, Becky. I love your strength, your kindness, your patience. I know this is love because I wouldn’t incorporate you into my life and in the girls’ lives if I wasn’t sure, and I’m sure. I’m sure of you, of us and …” He shook his head. “You don’t have to say it or feel it right now. I’m okay. One of my best qualities is patience. I’ll wait, okay? Until you’re ready.”
I nodded, feeling too close to tears. I closed the gap and kissed him. I had no words. I wasn’t ready to proclaim that I loved him even though I knew in my heart and in my gut that I probably did.
I pulled back, not wanting to be caught in the act again by the children. “Now, you have to tell Mary.”
He nodded. “Yeah.” His sigh was deep, and it seemed endless. “Hopefully, she’ll take it just as well as Sarah did.”
“Well?” I let out a shaky chuckle. “Sarah couldn’t even look at me when she walked in.”
He tenderly brushed the back of his knuckles against my cheek. “She just needs time. Plus, I’m assuming she’s a little embarrassed. She walked in on me mauling your face.” He felt playful enough to add a smirk.
I pressed one heavy hand against his chest, feeling like I was about to let him maul me again if I wasn’t careful. “Well, no more mauling until we have all of this out in the open, okay?”
His gaze turned serious, sweet, and full of so much love that I felt weak in the knees. “Sounds good.”
* * *
Dinner could be summed up in one word—uncomfortable. Brad had ditched us, thankfully. I didn’t know if Charles had talked to him, maybe asking him to leave so we could talk to the girls by ourselves. All I knew was, one minute, Brad had been excited for my chicken potpie, and the next, he was saying his good-byes with an evident frown on his face.
The only person who spoke during dinner was Mary. It was like she was having a one-way conversation with herself, talking about her stuffed animals and school and the teacher who loved her, though she believed all her teachers loved her.
Sarah only moved food around the plate, her head down, her eyes never meeting mine.
My stomach churned with anxiety.
“After dinner, we’re going out for ice cream,” Charles announced cheerily, breaking up Mary’s story about the worm on the playground that the kids had bullied. Yes, they’d bullied a worm.
Immediately, Mary’s smile slipped, and she dropped her fork. “Last time we went out for ice cream, you told us Nana was leaving.” Her sparkling blue eyes flipped to mine. “Are you leaving, Becky?”
A nervous laugh escaped my lips, and I met Charles’s eyes. “I hope not.”
“No. Becky is staying,” he said firmly, holding a secret smile that had my stomach lurching forward.
Sarah’s gaze flicked upward, her face unreadable, and immediately, my stomach dropped for a different reason now.
After dinner, I stood, ready to clean up. Sarah picked up all the plates, discarded the uneaten food into the garbage, and handed me the plates, so I could rinse them and place them in the dishwasher. Mary wiped down the table with the dishcloth while Charles put the leftovers in the fridge.
I loved these moments—the togetherness, the simplicity of everyday, mundane tasks. I craved them. Craved the normalcy. These small things were what made me feel like we were all a family.
I had never wanted acceptance as much as I did right now. I’d never belonged anywhere, bouncing from foster family to foster family, but I wanted to belong here. I wanted them to claim me and love me because I already loved them—Mary, Sarah, and inevitably, Charles.
Charles
Sweat beads pebbled the back of my neck, and I adjusted my T-shirt to get myself to cool down. Even though I was eating rocky road ice cream on a cone, I sat utterly still in our booth, sweating profusely.
