Chapter Text
There were a number of things Josiah had told himself he’d never do as a parent. Turning into his own father was the principal one, of course. But also high up on the list was his determination that, however tempted, he wouldn’t spy on his kids.
“Oh but surely there are times?” Nettie Wells might question, ever the traditionalist, but he’d always shake his head at her, implacable.
He didn’t follow the older ones’ social media accounts for a start. Their Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat and who knew what else shenanigans. Didn’t listen in to their phone conversations, either, or monitor every session they’d had on the computer, although he knew parents at school who did all those things and still never seemed content. He had never covertly watched or followed any of his boys, even when they were setting off on their first independent journeys or telling him they were going somewhere and he didn’t quite believe them. Mutual trust and respect was everything, especially with kids suspicious of authority. And they wouldn’t give it to him or each other, he reasoned, if he didn’t give it to them first.
But here now.
Here he was standing behind the drapes late at night, watching Chris in secret. His eldest boy was down on the street below the townhouse with that Ella girl, and Josiah just couldn’t stop himself. Not that he could hear their conversation clearly, or knew what he’d do even if he could. They were pretty well visible, because they were standing under a street light, and he could tell a good deal from their body language, the rise and fall of their voices. Ella was all touching hands and tilted head, all teasing and goading, keeping Chris’s attention. Every so often her eyes flashed.
Dark, petite, vivacious, and supremely confident – she was what his own father would, without a moment’s pause for further thought, have called a “Jezebel”.
And that did it. The arrival of his father into proceedings was enough to remind him what he was doing. “God’s sake, Josiah,” he said to himself crossly, and let the drape fall.
Miss Ella was going to have her way, whether he liked it or not. Chris would just have to chart his own way through it all, these choppy waters of love and jealousy and sex. And may the Lord help him.
Buck, of course, was on the case. Josiah hadn’t asked him to keep watch on his foster brother exactly, but it came natural to him, especially where Chris and J.D. were concerned. Although keeping much of the undoubted truth to himself in the interests of not being punched, Buck had intimated a little of what was going on. Chris was under Ella Gaines’ thumb, so he said. Miss Ella was tricky, would tie him up in knots, lead him astray. And Chris was enjoying the tricks, even though there was another feisty young woman called Sarah Connolly in the group who he liked pretty well, too.
“Why now?” Josiah always wanted to say to Chris, or whoever was currently keeping him awake at night. “Why worry me about this now when there’s so much else going on around here to worry about?” Of course, he never did say such things out loud. Being a martyr to his own problems was not his style at all. And he knew youngsters didn’t respond well to it either.
He glanced down at his watch, squinting to see the hands in the dim light.
Midnight.
All four of the younger ones were asleep – or at least he hoped they were. Buck, by the sound of it, was watching TV in the room he shared with Chris.
Josiah shook his head. It beggared belief, in some respects, that the two of them hadn’t moved out. Mature and self-sufficient in many ways, they certainly wouldn’t have a problem being out in the world. They probably would have gone, he guessed, were it not for financial reasons. They were both holding down jobs that didn’t pay too well and that they didn’t find very thrilling, just making enough to contribute to the weekly budget, and pay for the cars they drove and their social lives. Which in both cases meant beer, movies, clothes, parties, and fast food. The room they shared wasn’t huge, but they just about didn’t nearly kill each other most days. And some days they were close as real brothers.
Real brothers.
“Goddamn right we are.” However pissed he was at any or all of the others, it was usually Chris who’d claim that, for all six of them. And, if anyone dared suggest otherwise or start, foolishly, talking about blood as if that trumped all... Well, nobody did dare.
Josiah went along to the kitchen, ran himself a glass of water from the faucet and knocked it back. When he came out to do his final rounds, he could see the light on in Chris and Buck’s room. Tapping with his ear to the door, he pushed it open.
“Hey.”
“Crap movie,” Buck said sleepily from where he was stretched out on his bed, one arm behind his head.
Josiah cracked a smile. “I wake you?”
“Not really. Chris back yet?”
“Maybe,” Josiah said cagily.
Buck peered at the TV, bleary. Then he pressed the remote and dropped it with a clatter over the side of the bed. “Gotta sleep.”
“Uh-huh.” Josiah backed out, padded down the corridor to the other two bedrooms. In his own, under the window, the soon to be six year-old J.D. slept flat on his back with his arms thrown wide. He was totally relaxed, and deeply asleep. J.D., Josiah reflected, could be a good example for them all at times. A little further on, all was also quiet in the bunk room. On the bottom bed Ezra was rolled against the wall, back facing the room, bedclothes nearly over his head. He’d twined the damned things right around himself again as if he were a mummy, which wouldn’t help prevent the bad dream flashbacks he’d been having about being... well, twined up as if he were a mummy. Josiah reached out a tentative hand, tried to loosen the quilt a little, encourage the boy out of his tangle. Ezra kicked a foot and muttered but didn’t wake up. Josiah hesitated and then backed off, didn’t want to trigger anything, or make the boy move his injured wrist and shoulder suddenly. Added to which, well Ezra was the one he didn’t know. They didn’t have long experience of one another and Josiah proceeded cautiously with this particular child.
Up top he was prepared for his heart to squeeze, and sure enough it did. Vin was asleep just fine, but as usual Josiah was struck anew by his fragility. Somehow he just didn’t seem to be picking up from his time in hospital, or at least, not as fast as Josiah would have liked. He looked too pale, too underweight. Josiah told himself that the light and his sleep state didn’t do Vin any favors – in daylight, while occupied with what amused him, or rambling around out of doors, the kid looked better than this. He did have a spark in his eye these days – even the doctor said so – and occasional roses in his cheek, or bursts of energy. But somehow, asleep, he looked like what he was – a feeble invalid.
And who could stand to look on a feeble invalid, especially when they weren’t quite ten years old?
Josiah did the opposite with Vin than he’d done with Ezra, which was typical of how things went with these two. He pulled the quilt up over the nearest shoulder, felt a tingle of relief when the boy burrowed into it, settled back into sleep almost at once, breathing even and regular.
In Josiah’s study, Nathan was asleep on the pull-out bed. And the room was looking less like his study and more like Nathan’s. There were school books and ring binders in neat piles all over the floor, wet towels, socks and cheap aftershave on various surfaces, and it had been some time since the desk had looked familiar. As usual Josiah felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t worked out a dedicated space for Nathan, but then he decided not to be too hard on himself. While things were in such an unholy state of flux, it was a big ask to do work on the house. Mind, he also suspected that perhaps there couldn’t be a more apt time to do it. It would show them he was doing his darndest in all departments to work for permanence.
Head buzzing slightly from the glut of things on his mind, Josiah slipped out of the room and went back downstairs. He wasn’t due in class until ten tomorrow, but he was hoping for a breakfast meeting with Cristina Alvarez and some brief from Atlanta who was in town to discuss the case of child no. NM35529 – as Ezra was still known in certain quarters. At some point he really needed to begin shopping for Christmas, too. Even when there’d just been Buck and Chris, Hannah always started some time in early October, didn’t she? And here they were halfway through November already. Perhaps he should make lists.
“Yeah, lists.”
Josiah yawned until his eyes watered. Time to sleep. He’d hoped to have a word with Chris when he finally said his goodnights and came in from Ella Gaines. But there’d been no telltale banging of the front door. They were still out there. Canoodling.
A faint smile came to Josiah’s face when he caught himself thinking that word. He was turning into his father again, and even though that was a horrific thought, the irony of it amused him. He tiptoed into his bathroom, cleaned his teeth, stared morosely at the lines on his face, and then undressed in the dark before slipping into bed. Just as he’d gotten comfortable he heard the distinct click of the front door – being opened and closed as quietly as possible. Then the snap of the locks being slid.
Chris was in.
Josiah supposed that would have to do for a good night’s sleep.
*
The main telephone in the house rang at precisely six forty-five a.m.
Josiah was trimming his beard at the time, but he knew the older boys were already up, banging about in the kitchen. J.D. was out of bed, too, and had trotted off to see if Vin and Ezra were awake, and, if so, whether they’d let him in their room. His morning dynamism didn’t suit Ezra at the best of times, and Vin’s habitual fatigue often gave him the grumps.
He heard his name yelled, wasn’t sure whose voice it was.
“Right there!” he called out, running the backs of his fingers under his chin to test how prickly it still felt. On the way to the kitchen he noticed J.D. standing half in and half out of the bunk room, swinging the door back and forth. Josiah could just imagine that Ezra was informing the little boy he wasn’t welcome, but J.D. was pushing his luck as usual
Buck, with a piece of toast in his mouth, shrugged as Josiah came in, handed him the phone.
“Hello?”
Josiah stood with his back to the counter top, watching Buck and Nathan ransacking the dishwasher for cereal bowls and mugs. Chris was slouched over the coffee machine, back to everyone, still wearing the t-shirt he’d slept in. Josiah was pretty sure, if he was to go close, he’d be able to smell smoke and booze.
“Mr. Sanchez? Mr. Josiah Sanchez?”
“That’s me. Who’s this?”
He was puzzled, defensive. It wasn’t Leila Beverley from Social Services on the line, any of the lawyers or Claudio the department secretary. Neither was it a recognizable voice from either of the boys’ schools.
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Sanchez. My name is Tyler Davison. I’m a doctor at MGH in Boston, part of the team treating Jane Louise Dunne?”
Josiah felt a knot of muscle tighten in the back of his neck. “Yes,” he said, and something about the defeat in his voice made Buck look round and stare at him.
“I understand that you are the current guardian of Mrs. Dunne’s young son?”
Josiah knew this soft-soaping tone, the build up to the big reveal, and he wanted to cut to the chase. “No disrespect, doc, but I really think you should just go ahead and tell me what you’ve got to tell me.”
There was a small silence, possibly offended. “Well in that case I’m very sorry to inform you that Mrs. Dunne passed away a few hours ago.”
“Ah hell.”
Of course he’d guessed, but it still came like a body blow. A respectful pause from Boston followed, and then the doctor saying, “She had been quite seriously ill for a long time. As I’m sure you know.”
Yes indeed. Alcohol and unhappiness did terrible things to the body. Not to mention the ravages of cancer.
Josiah swallowed. He hadn’t known Jane Louise Dunne personally, had never met or even spoken to her. But she wasn’t the reason he felt a punch of grief. “And was the... did the family get there?”
Family, in her case, was not J.D.’s father, or any siblings to J.D., but perhaps an estranged sister. There were cousins, too, but none of them had shown any interest in Jane Dunne’s condition up to now except to say she’d had it coming.
“Her brother-in-law has just arrived.”
But he wasn’t there at the end, presumably, in those dreamlike early hours when death seemed to stalk. It was getting towards nine o’clock in Boston – just about a reasonable time to turn up to the hospital and sign things if you had to.
Ay mi vida, these families!
“Well, I... thank you, Doctor Davison. I appreciate your call. Mrs. Dunne’s brother in law? You can tell him that we’ll obviously proceed carefully with J.D. That’s her little boy.”
“Ah yes. Still very young, I believe?”
“Six.”
An audible sigh. “I’ll pass that on, Mr. Sanchez. Thank you. If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to get in touch. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from the family about funeral arrangements and so forth.”
And so forth.
“Understood.” Josiah was already determining that J.D. wasn’t going to be dragged along to anything like that. Should the scattering of Dunne family members even think of it. “Oh, and doc?” he asked. “If it makes any difference to anything, could you extend my sympathies to Mrs. Dunne’s brother-in-law? I don’t know the guy, or any of the relatives, but... well I know J.D. and J.D.’s pretty special to me. They should know his family here are real sorry to hear what’s happened.”
“Will do. And again, can I extend the trust’s condolences for the boy’s loss.”
Extend them all you like, doc, Josiah thought as he put down the phone. Ain’t going to help him.
“Josiah?” Buck said when he stayed where he was staring at the kitchen floor.
“Yeah,” Josiah said, looking up. He realized all three of the boys were looking at him, Buck hands on hips, Nathan with a bowl in hand, eyes concerned, Chris pasty-faced and wary. “J.D.’s mom. Early this morning.” He looked at the packet of Cheerios on the table. “Shit.”
“Are you gonna-?” Nathan asked.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Now?”
“Give me a break - I’ll handle it.”
“He going to school?” Buck asked.
Slowly, Josiah spoke his thoughts out loud. “Don’t want him to get the news when he’s already tired. And he’s sharp enough to cotton to something being up.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up. “I’ll take today off.”
“You want me to?” Buck’s voice suggested he’d already decided anyhow.
“Heck, I don’t know. Kid hasn’t seen his mom for over a year.”
“Still his mom,” Buck said, a tad sharp.
Josiah felt the sting of reproof, and accepted it. Nevertheless he held his hands up to ward off the sudden burst of opinions. None of these three had mothers alive and Buck and Nathan both remembered their loss. He knew they could all help J.D. now, in their own ways, but he needed them to reflect some first, go in real easy.
“Now listen, I think I need you guys to do your normal thing. Everyone’s going to feel this, I get that. But for right now, have your breakfast, get to where you’ve got to be.”
A short pause while that was processed, and then Chris said, “Wasn’t Ezra supposed to be back in school today?”
“Well, they said today or tomorrow would be fine.” Josiah frowned, feeling another cloud hovering. Ezra’s wrist and shoulder wouldn’t be properly healed for a while, but home schooling with Nettie Wells hadn’t exactly been a resounding success. The principal of the school where he had a place had assured Josiah that Ezra would be welcomed back with open arms at any time – and looked after like a young rajah. “I was thinking tomorrow but maybe... maybe it’d work if he went back today? Could be a little rough around here. What?” He knew that combative look which had suddenly come over Chris.
“So when things get rough you kick him out?”
“That’s not what’s happening!” Josiah felt the stirrings of irritation.
“Damn well looks like it to me. And you can bet that’s how Ezra will see it.”
“Hey!” Josiah struggled against the impulse to clench one fist by his side. “I may be tied up with J.D. if he takes this bad, and we can’t do much about Vin at the moment. He needs to stay here, do his lessons, take a rest. Ezra’s ready for school. You know that. Damn house is going to explode if he and Nettie Wells spend much more time together. And him back-chatting Nettie the whole time isn’t helping Vin.” He nailed Chris with one of his rare parental looks. “We’ve been through this.”
Buck sighed. “OK, let’s not us argue about it. I’ll go tell Ezra the news, get him and J.D. in to breakfast. Vin getting up for his today?”
“See how he seems,” Josiah said. “Need to get some sugar into the other two, then I’ll take it from there.”
“Coffee?” Chris said after a pause. He still looked combative, although Josiah knew the offer was his way of making peace.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Chris turned away again, and Nathan began to set more things on the table.
Buck rambled off down the hall. After a while they could hear the hot water running in the main bathroom and when Buck rambled back in they guessed it was Ezra in the shower. After another ten minutes, the youngest three were all at the table, Vin in his pyjamas and a hooded sweat top, the other two ready – up to a point – for school.
It hurt like hell that J.D. was so cheerful, so oblivious, although it made it easier to bluff their way through the usual ramshackle meal. Nathan had decided he was in too much of a hurry to sit down, and Chris, after dumping a monster-sized bowl of Cheerios in front of Vin with a smirk, left to get ready for work. Buck, who often ate breakfast while wandering around the house in the morning, sat next to J.D. and stayed there. Vin, peaked but with a willing appetite, even if a small one, seemed pleased to be up. Sometimes he wasn’t, but today – at least at the moment – seemed to be one of his better starts. He grinned at Chris’s retreating back and laid into the top half of the mountain of Cheerios with a will.
“Ha ha,” he said through a mouthful to Ezra when he knew where his erstwhile fellow pupil was bound. He waved his sticky spoon, munched and swallowed. “You get Miss Garcia.”
“So what? You get Miss Nettie and she’ll make you read. And do fractions. That’s a real ha ha.”
“I don’t care, long as it ain’t Miss Garcia.”
“Bet you Miss Nettie’ll give out more homework than Miss Garcia.”
“Bet you she won’t.”
“Five dollars says she will,” and Ezra’s hand shot out, ready to seal the deal.
“Ezra,” Josiah interrupted, severe, knowing the boy was serious. “Not everything is about making money.”
Ezra gave him a look but withdrew his hand.
“What if Ezra can’t write neat?” J.D. demanded at that point. “What happens about his medicines? What about the brace?”
“School know all about it. Miss Garcia will understand that Ezra’s wrist is weak, and the school nurse knows he may need some time out, won’t be doing phys ed or running around at recess.”
“Yes but what if he can’t write neat?” J.D. pursued through his Cheerios.
“I can,” Ezra said, lofty as ever when his abilities were being questioned.
“You can’t,” Vin pitched in. “Not like when you were last at school.”
“I can write with both hands, I told you. I am ambidextrous.”
J.D. snorted with laughter, as if it was a made up word.
“It’ll all be fine, kiddo. You don’t need to worry,” Buck said to him. He sounded a little tense, although J.D. didn’t seem to notice. On the other hand, Josiah didn’t miss that Vin did a double-take, stopped chewing. “Just eat your cereal.”
When the cereal, fruit and chocolate milk were consumed Josiah looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 7.15, only half an hour since the call. “You up to getting to school early?” he said to Ezra.
Ezra puffed his cheeks, blew out a noise of world-weariness at the question. He’d borne four days of Miss Nettie, then said repeatedly that he wanted to get back into school – even though he hadn’t had such a stellar time there last year when he was a new pupil in Vin’s class. There were many things about learning he liked, as well as having other kids around (to con, as Chris might say), but there were also many things about the school system and about individual personalities that were a struggle. Josiah suspected Ezra just wanted to get shot of Nettie Wells who found him a challenge. He also feared that Nettie was probably finding it near impossible to hide her clear preference for Vin, with whom she had an acknowledged affinity.
“Guess so,” Ezra responded finally. “Breakfast Club.” And he rolled his eyes with expressive scorn.
“I don’t like Breakfast Club,” J.D. chipped in “Why do we have to?”
Josiah didn’t answer him direct, just put a hand on his shoulder while saying to Ezra, “Can you be ready by 7.30? To go with Nathan and Chris? You just need to get dressed and brush your teeth, right? You don’t need to take a backpack – the teachers know you can’t carry one at the moment. Nathan will take your lunch.”
And then he made what they all called ‘Josiah’s Damn It Face’. “Lunch!”
“I’ll do it,” Buck offered. “But,” and he made a mock-threatening gesture at J.D. and Ezra, “you’ll have what I give you.”
“God’s sake,” Ezra muttered, and got away with it because of the sudden air of distraction around the table.
“Peanut butter bagel!” J.D. sang out but again didn’t seem to register that Buck had no direct response for him. Vin had shut right up and was looking at everyone, uncertain blue eyes just visible under his curtain of shaggy, unkempt hair.
“OK for you, Ezra?”
“Crunchy,” Ezra said on an indifferent shrug, sliding from his chair. Josiah noted that he was still a little uneven, seemed to want to keep his bad shoulder away from J.D., who was jiggling about in his chair as usual.
“Smooth!” J.D. yelled, excited by the idea of a shouting match, throwing his arms wide.
“Careful,” Buck admonished him, wincing slightly as Ezra tensed up, gave the youngest a wide berth as he left the kitchen. “You finish your cereal, shortstop. Want some more chocolate milk?”
J.D. did look puzzled then, not sure why he wasn’t being told to go hurry get dressed.
Josiah said an inward prayer. It would be a miracle if all this timing worked out. He knew the eldest boys were doing their best to assist him, but J.D. was soon going to realize something was afoot.
“Now then, young Mr. Dunne,” he said, casual as he could. “You finish off those Cheerios, and help Buck with the lunch. I’m going to go make a call and get dressed.”
In the bedroom he called Nettie Wells, told her the news.
“Oh, Heavens,” was her immediate response. “I’ll be right over. You want I bring Vin back to mine for the day?”
“Planning on playing it by ear. Just hoping we can get Ezra out the door before I have to break it to J.D. Not sure how the kid’ll react to tell you the truth. He may be fine – heck, he’s not even six yet. What’s real about losing an absent mom when you’re not even six?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Yes,” he said, “I usually am.”
By the time he’d dressed he heard Chris announcing, louder than normal, that he was ready to go. Shortly after he heard J.D. in the utility room fussing that he didn’t have socks.
“Ready, Ezra?” he asked, swinging by the bunks.
Ezra was smart in gray Gap chinos and a white denim shirt, his still-wet hair neatly combed. “Do I need to wear my brace?”
Oh heck, Josiah thought. This wasn’t right. Much as Ezra wanted to be out of Nettie Wells’ orbit right now, maybe he wasn’t ready. The wrist break ached badly on and off, the damaged shoulder joint was a worry, and the kid would become morose and uncooperative if his meds weren’t kept topped up. The school knew that, but in these matters Josiah had a bad habit of trusting nobody but himself. As usual, though, things were moving too fast.
“I should take it, son. Just in case. Now you know you don’t have to go back into school if you don’t want to, right?”
As he often did, Ezra looked at him as if he thought Josiah slightly touched. Not to mention immediately distrusting his motives. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”
Josiah took a breath. “Well OK,” he said. “But if your wrist or shoulder starts to hurt, you have to tell a teacher, is that clear? No sitting there in class feeling bad and not telling anyone. You go to the nurse at lunchtime anyhow to take your painkiller, whether you think you need it or not. If you have to come home early we can sort that out.”
Ezra’s limpid green eyes were full of all sorts of things – impatience, suspicion, even a strangely indulgent kind of humor. The boy was a case all right.
“Ready?” Chris demanded, putting his head round the door. He was rocking the bristly look, his manliness surprising Josiah anew.
“Why all the hurry?” Ezra groused at him, but he plucked the tan-colored wrist brace from next to the bottom bunk bed, and followed Chris out of the room. Nathan was waiting in the hall, too, school bag heavy with books, Ezra’s lunchbox under his arm.
“Let’s go,” he said. J.D. was still racketing about up the hall yelling about his laces and wait for me. Ezra’s brow furrowed. Josiah could tell he’d suddenly cottoned to the fact that he was being hurried out the door, and J.D. wasn’t. Nathan and Chris didn’t give him time to ask any questions, though. Chris got a hand to the back of his neck and steered him gently but firmly down towards the front door. Josiah sent his eyes heavenwards as it opened, the three of them passed through it, and then it closed with a quiet click.
Dear God, he felt like such a heel.
J.D. came racing out of the bedroom with his shoes in his hand. “They left!” he bawled, staring at the shut door in outrage. “They left without me! That ain’t fair!”
“J.D.,” Josiah said, catching at his arm. He knew he was going to have to go for it now, couldn’t afford to wait for Nettie to arrive and scoop up Vin. From what he could tell, Buck still had Vin in the kitchen, which would just have to work. “Can we go sit down for a moment?”
“School?” J.D. said on a confused half-question.
“Yeah, don’t worry about that just now. I need to talk to you.”
“Am I in trouble?”
Josiah felt his throat tighten. “No, son. Definitely not in trouble. I just need us to have a little talk, and I wanted the boys out so they don’t disturb us.”
“I am,” J.D. said, mournful, dropping the shoes. “I’m in trouble.”
Josiah slid an arm around him. “Absolutely not. C’mon, let’s go sit on the couch. There’s something I need to tell you.”
*
He prayed it wouldn’t be as bad as telling Buck had been – that awful day, some eight years ago, when they’d gotten word the boy’s mother had been found dead. It had possibly been one of the worst of Josiah’s entire career as a foster father. As if the fatal stabbing of a prostitute in a Phoenix brothel wasn’t bad enough in itself. The bereaved child, even with grim details withheld, had been instantly, heart-rendingly, crushed. Same age as Vin and Ezra were now, Buck had been catapulted into such a world of pain and loss that Josiah had wondered how they’d get him through it.
Buck had seen his mom only a few days before it happened. They’d had plans, hopes for a better future, and all that had come tumbling down around him. J.D. hadn’t seen his mother since he was very tiny. He had letters, and photographs, but he hadn’t had a life with her that he could remember. Josiah hoped that would be enough to cushion some of the blow.
First off, when he’d explained it all, J.D. told Josiah was a big fat liar. Which seemed fair enough. Then he’d pushed his foster father away with all the strength an emotional six year-old could muster. And then he became defensive, reckoned he didn’t care anyway. There were no tears. Just a finely-directed, slow-burning anger that resulted in a wholesale rejection of Josiah, and a running retreat from the room. When Josiah followed cautiously to the bedroom, J.D. had heaved something not very heavy against the door.
“Go away!” he shouted when he knew Josiah was outside the room. “You suck and you’re mean! Go away!”
“J.D.,” Josiah tried, soft-spoken, hand flat against the panels. He could get in easily if he really wanted to, but he didn’t want to turn this into a fight.
“No, no, no! Don’t want you!”
Josiah stood back from the door and stared at it. Buck had come out of the kitchen and came up to his shoulder.
“Well that went well,” he said softly.
“Kind of a tough thing to take in.”
“You want me to try?”
Josiah did and didn’t. He felt it was a task that should define him – the father, the carer, the one responsible – and that if he couldn’t succeed in this then he was a failure. At the same time, he knew how these things worked, and that he wasn’t the only one who loved J.D. Buck was the kid’s particularly beloved big brother, nearer him in age than Josiah, and, crucially, knew what this was going to be like. He wouldn’t have any false sentimental notions either, would get that J.D. had stronger attachments to a handful of other adults than he had to Jane Louise Dunne. And he’d also get that it might not make an iota of difference to how it would hurt, not once the loss kicked in. And even if not now, then anytime later down the line.
“Sure,” Josiah said and made a gesture to show he was going to stage a tactical withdrawal.
Buck looked half apologetic to be taking over, and half itching to get through the door. “If he’ll talk to me, maybe we could go out or something? Go to... some place for waffles? Little Man, for ice-cream? Oh and just so you know, Vin’s starting to get anxious.”
That did it. Leaving J.D. to Buck for the moment, Josiah reversed down the hall back towards the kitchen. He was aware that he hadn’t called the university yet to tell them he might not make it in this morning, or all day. And the breakfast meeting with the lawyers... he really didn’t want to shelve that and relegate Ezra and his knotty situation to the bottom of the pile again. Especially when the boy had just been banished back to school.
Vin was rocking on his chair when Josiah came into the kitchen. He didn’t ask questions, just gave his foster father a watchful stare. One of his hands was gripping the edge of the table.
“Hey,” Josiah said, sliding into the seat opposite.
“Hey.”
“Wondering what all the hooey’s about I guess?”
A shrug, then a slightly unwilling, “Guess.”
“Well it’s like this, son. I had a sad kind of a phone call earlier from the hospital where J.D.’s mom has been. You remember I mentioned about that?”
“She’s sick.”
Yeah, a sick mother was something Vin could relate to all right.
“That’s it. Well the doctors have been looking after her real well, but she’d gotten very bad. And they did everything they could for a long time.”
“And she died,” Vin finished for him.
Josiah sighed. “Yes, son, I’m afraid she did. I just finished telling J.D. and he’s kinda upset.”
“Cryin’?”
“More sorta mad.”
Vin crashed his chair legs down on the floor, steadying himself with both hands. He stared at the table. “So he ain’t going to school?”
“I’m not sure.”
“But Ezra had to?”
“Ezra wanted to.”
Vin frowned at that. “You and Miss Nettie wanted him to. Else he’s sick of me.”
“No, no. Ezra just enjoys school more than you do, and gets along better with Miss Garcia than he does with Miss Nettie.”
Vin gave another speculative rock. Josiah thought about reminding him not to, but decided against it. He was glad, all things considered, that his parenting wasn’t under twenty-four hour surveillance. “Poor J.D.,” Vin said.
Josiah nodded, half distracted. While he was talking to Vin he was trying to listen out for signs of how things were going. Buck must be talking quietly, whether he’d gained entrance or not, because Josiah couldn’t hear him. And he couldn’t hear any more “go away”’s either. He turned his attention back to the child in front of him.
“I know what you’ll say when I ask this, Vin, but – this sad news, you want to talk about it?”
The talk-about-it question was something of a running gag – words the boys had all heard multiple times from well-meaning case workers.
“Nah.” Vin was suspiciously adamant.
“Because I know you worry about your mom as well.”
There was good reason, too. Vin’s mother, his only surviving parent, shared some of the same problems as Jane Louise Dunne – poverty, chaos, addiction – although up to now at least she hadn’t been hospitalized. When Vin had been removed from his family set-up for his own safety, she’d left her current boyfriend rampaging around Colorado with his gang, gone back to her own, sick mother in Texas. And she’d tried for a couple of years to get clean so she could sort herself out, get her boy back. Despite how quickly Vin Tanner had wriggled into his heart the better part of Josiah had hoped she’d succeed. But Karen Tanner was too unstable now to turn her life around, become the loving mother she’d once been. Vin had been close to her, to his frail grandmother, too, but would never have thrived in the maelstrom of their lives. A positive decision on adoption would close down a return to them for good, and Josiah reminded himself daily of the harsh negatives in that.
Vin rocked harder when his mom was mentioned, but he continued to shake his head. “Don’t want to talk. Don’t s’pose J.D. wants to either.”
“Don’t suppose he does.”
Vin heaved his bony shoulders. “Do I hafta do schoolin’ today?”
“Miss Nettie’s on her way. Best go get ready for her.”
“Buck stayin’?”
Josiah scratched his bearded chin again. “We’ll see how things go. Now are you all done?”
“Guess.”
“Well I’m here, if you do want to talk. And Chris will be too, later. No getting in a twist and not telling us, all right?”
“All right.” Vin cracked a smile. The wonderful bounce-back of youth.
“So you scram and get ready for Miss Nettie, I need to make some calls.”
There was a clunk as Vin landed the chair once more. Josiah was both relieved and strengthened when the boy paused to give him one of his affectionate head butts before he skittered into a gallop out of the kitchen and back to the bunkroom. Taking the hands free phone with him Josiah went back up to the living room, aware that Buck was still in the bedroom, speaking in a low voice. Just as he’d gotten settled on the couch he heard a shifting sound, and then feet in the hallway.
“Takin’ J.D. out for some air!” Buck called out. He sounded serious and determined.
Josiah fought the impulse to rush out and scoop J.D. up in his arms, assert his role, convey his feelings. “See you soon!” he called back, calm. “Take it easy!”
“Will do.”
There was some more murmuring from Buck, which had to be something to do with shoes and coats, and then the front door closed again.