by L A Cotton
Mya
“It’s good to see you again, Hugo,” I said, sitting down beside him. He was busy coloring in another picture of Swoop, the Eagles mascot. Sally had printed a bunch off for him. It was his favorite activity; one of the only activities he engaged with.
“That looks great,” I added when he didn’t acknowledge me. “I thought we could try something different today. I’m hoping you’ll like it.” I placed the blank cards and envelopes down in front of me. I’d spoken to Sally about my idea and she and Hugo’s social worker were all for it.
He finally lifted his dull brown eyes to mine. “Hi, there,” I said, giving him a soft smile. “Would you like me to tell you about the activity I thought we could do?”
He gave me an imperceptible shrug, but I took it as permission.
Hope unfurled in my stomach. I didn’t want to get overexcited, but this was huge. I gently pushed a card and pen toward him. “So, I know how you love football. Your brothers have been telling me all about it.” I winked and his little brows furrowed. “They said you want to be like Fletcher Cox when you’re older?”
He stared back at me with a blank expression, but I kept going. “I want you to think about football for a minute. I want you to think about the way it makes you feel and why you love it so much, and then, when you’re ready, I want you to write one wish down on the card. It can be anything to do with football, okay?”
Seconds ticked by as Hugo stared at the blank card. I didn’t push. I didn’t speak. I just sat there quietly, waiting. For this to work, he had to engage with the process... he had to own it.
After a few minutes, I was worried he wasn’t going to bite. But then, slowly, Hugo picked up the pen and began drawing. His grip was shaky, the lines messy and unintelligible. But we could figure out the details later. I just needed an idea to work with.
“Finished?” I asked once he’d stopped drawing. He gave me his sad eyes again and nodded. It was a small action, but it was something.
“You did great, Hugo. Do you mind if I take a look?”
He slid the card across to me. Thankfully, I could just make out the football field and huge bird-like man in the center.
My lips curved as I realized what he was telling me. “You’d like to go to the Lincoln Financial Field and meet Swoop, huh?”
Emotion welled inside me. It was something so innocent and pure, it made my heart ache.
“Well, I can’t promise anything,” because that was the number one rule of working with kids—no promises—“but I’m going to see what I can do, okay?”
A flicker of interest passed over his face.
“But you have to do something for me too.”
His expression fell.
“I’m going to put your wish in this envelope and we’re going to keep it over there on that bookcase.” I pointed at shelves across the room. “See.” Taking the pen, I stuffed the card inside the envelope and wrote ‘Hugo’ across the front. “It’s going to stay right there... and when you’re ready to try to make it come true, all you have to do is ask me.”
His eyes widened a little, fear glittering there.
“I know it’s scary,” I spoke gently. “I know you haven’t spoken to anyone in a really long time, but you don’t have to be afraid anymore, okay? The Hansons are a good family. They want you and your brothers to feel safe.
“It doesn’t have to be today or the next time we meet, but I’d really like it, if, one day, you use your voice to ask me for the envelope.”
Hugo studied me, his murky brown eyes fixed on mine. I wanted to know what he was thinking, what he saw when he looked at me. But I knew it wasn’t that simple. In this field, patience was your best friend. Progress was often made in baby steps, and just when you thought you were moving forward, something would happen to set you back again.
“Do you think you can give it a try? I’ll put the envelope over there for safe keeping, and when you’re ready to ask me for it, I’ll be right here waiting.”
Hugo shifted on his chair and I hated that it was because I was pushing him into a state of discomfort. But I’d read up a lot on selective mutism and it often came hand in hand with social anxiety disorder. Overcoming it wasn’t going to be easy, but he was still young. With the right interventions and support, there was no reason why Hugo couldn’t slowly regain his speech and confidence.
But then he looked at me again, and although he didn’t nod, I saw his answer.
Hugo would try.
And I would wait.
Asher
“I’m sorry I missed your dad,” Mya said as we lay in bed.
“It’s okay. Rough night?” She’d gotten home a little after ten.
“I offered to stay and help Sally clean up.”
“Of course you did.” I smiled, stroking her warm skin. “How did it go with the kid?”
“I’m not sure yet. But I’m hoping it’ll reach him.” She snuggled closer. “So what brought your dad to Philly?”
“I wanted to talk to him, and he offered to drive up.”
Mya rolled onto her stomach, gazing up at me. “What did you need to talk to him about?” Her nose scrunched up.
“Things.”
“Things.” Her brow arched with suspicion, and I chuckled.
“I wanted to feel him out about opening a second branch of his business here.”
Her eyes went wide. “You did?”
“I was serious about what I said, Mya. You want to put down roots here, and if I’m going to work for the family business, that doesn’t just happen overnight. We’d need to find premises, employ a team, source clients.”
“Wow, you’ve really given this a lot of thought.”
I reached for one of her spiral curls and twirled it around my finger. “Coach asked me today about going pro. Said I have a shot—”
“Ash,” she frowned, “I don’t want you to give up that dream for me.”
“It isn’t just about you. It’s about me too. And honestly, I don’t want it. I love football, but it’s not my life. You are.” Her breath caught, but I wasn’t done. “I know we’re young, and I know you probably think I’m crazy for even talking about starting a family, but I want that. I want a life with you.”
“Actually...” Mya pressed her lips together and looked up at me through her thick lashes. “I’ve been doing some thinking myself…” She hesitated. “How do you feel about fostering?”
“As in fostering kids?”
“No, puppies.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, kids. I was talking to Sally tonight and she was telling me all about the family who have taken in Hugo and his brothers, and what they’re doing... it’s incredible. I always thought the way I could help and make a difference was to be out there in the community, working at grass roots level. But maybe this is something else to consider.”
“I’m not going to lie, babe, I don’t know the first thing about fostering. Don’t you have to be settled? Have a good job, a house, that kind of thing?”
“There is eligibility criteria, yes. But it isn’t as rigid as you think. You have to be over twenty-one and have a stable living arrangement, but the rest is pretty flexible.”
“Fostering, huh?” I didn’t know how to feel about opening up my home to a kid who wasn’t mine. I’d always imagined we’d start a family with a baby, our baby.
“It’s not something we have to decide or even talk about yet. I just think it’s something I might want to do one day.”
“You have a big heart, Mya Hernandez.” I brushed my thumb over her cheek, letting it linger on the pillow of her lip.
“I just want to help. You came into my life when I needed someone. I’d like to think I can pay that forward one day.”
Well, shit. When she put it like that… but fostering? That was huge, and we were so young.
“I don’t want this to be another issue between us,” she said as if she could hear my thoughts. “I was just saying it’s something I’d like to think about, one day.”<
br />
“I know.”
But I also knew Mya, and once she got something in her mind... Yeah, this wasn’t going away anytime soon.
I could give Mya a lot of things: money, love, a happy life... but could I give her this?
There was only one thing for it. I needed a beer and some guy time with my best friend.
Asher
“Hey, thanks for coming.” I got up to greet Jason. We guy-hugged before taking a seat at the bar.
“Anytime. What’s up?”
“I... fuck, I don’t even know where to start.”
“Is everything okay? With Mya? Your mom?” Concern filled his eyes.
“Yeah, they’re fine.”
He frowned. “So, spit it out.”
“Mya wants to foster kids.”
Jase reared back. “She wants to what?”
“Yeah, I know.” I scrubbed my jaw.
“Like now or after college?”
“After college. You have to be at least twenty-one to get a license.” Although her birthday was in a few weeks, I was pretty sure no one was going to entrust a kid’s wellbeing to a college student.
“I thought she wanted to do the social work thing?”
“She does... at least, I think she still does. It kind of took me by surprise.”
“Yeah, I bet.” He flagged the bartender and ordered a drink. “So how do you feel about it?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean, I want kids. I can’t wait to get her knocked up.” Jase shook his head at that, and I frowned. “What?”
“We’re barely twenty-one.”
“I know, but I’ve always wanted a family.”
“I’ll say it again... we’re twenty-one.”
I flipped him off. “You’re telling me you don’t want the big house and lots of kids?”
“One day, when we're much, much older. I want to enjoy Felicity first. Make a life together, ya know? Besides, if I draft—”
“Which we both know you will,” I smirked.
“Life will be crazy.”
“Yeah, I get it.” I ran my thumb over the neck of the bottle. “I told Coach I’m not looking to go pro.”
He let out a long breath. “I always knew you were unsure, but I didn’t think you’d made the final decision.”
“It’s just not what I want. I love football. I love being on the team. But I want more after college.”
“Like babies?”
“Fuck off.” I chuckled.
“It’s a damn shame, Ash. You could have gone all the way.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I don’t yearn for it the way you do. I thought maybe breaking free from my old man’s expectations, I’d find my passion for it again. But honestly, it never came. I’m happy where I am. And once we graduate, I want to expand the business here. I spoke to my dad and he’s going to put out some feelers.”
“Well, if that’s what you want then good luck to you.” He lifted his beer and topped it toward me.
“It is.”
“But back to the fostering thing.” Jase’s expression sobered. “Is it a deal breaker?”
“What? No!” Panic snaked through me. “I’d do anything to make Mya happy.”
“Yeah, but come on, Ash. Taking on the responsibility of a kid who isn’t your blood?”
“I’m not saying it would be easy, but I have money, resources... shouldn’t I use them for a good cause?”
“You’re a better man than me. I’m not sure I could do it.”
“I’m still not convinced I can.” But for Mya, I’d try. “Speaking of kids, have you spoken to Cam?”
“Yeah, he’s really worried about Xander. Apparently, he’s getting into some trouble at school.”
“Shit.” I’d known things were bad, but we hadn’t talked in a few days.
“I think he’d move back to Rixon in a heartbeat if it wasn’t for Hailee.” Jason let out a weary sigh. “I’m worried about them.”
“They’ll figure it out. Xander is one of the most loved kids I know.”
“Yeah.” He said. But he didn’t look convinced.
And maybe he was right. Maybe sometimes love wasn’t enough.
“It’s good to see you,” I said.
I had friends at Temple. Diego, Aiden, Farrow, and the rest of the team. But none had ever come close to filling the hole left behind by Jason and Cameron.
What we had was rare.
Special.
It was a fucking blessing.
And I thanked the universe every day for giving me two of the best friends a guy could ask for.
“Mya, it’s so lovely to see you.” Mom pulled my girl into her arms and my heart swelled watching the two of them.
They’d formed a special bond after the shooting, and it was a giant relief that the two most important women in my life got on.
“Son.” Dad extended his hand and I accepted it. “It’s good to see you both.”
It had only been a few days since he drove out to see me, but it was the weekend before the team’s first game, so we wanted to do dinner before life became too hectic to see them.
“Something smells delicious.” Mom beamed.
“I slaved for hours over this, you’d better enjoy it,” I teased, shooting Mya a knowing wink.
“Let me guess, sweetheart,” Mom said to Mya. “You did all the heavy lifting.” She chuckled.
“Ash likes to think he prepared everything, but sitting on the stool, giving me instructions on how to chop the onion—”
“Hey, I helped.”
“Give up now, Son,” Dad suggested, managing a rare smile.
“Fine, fine. Steal all my thunder.”
“Oh, hush.” Mom came over and ruffled my hair, her eyes clouded with melancholy.
She’d found it hard after everything to let me go, but she understood, perhaps better than anyone, my desire to follow Mya to Temple.
“Why don’t you get your parents a drink?” Mya said, “and I’ll finish up in here.”
“Sure thing.” I moved around Mom and went to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Holler for me if you need any help.”
“I think I have it handled,” Mya mumbled, going back to stirring the contents of the pan.
“Come on, why don’t we wait in the living room?” I got them a drink each and we made our way through the apartment. I took a seat in a chair, leaving the couch for Mom and Dad.
“How are classes?” Mom asked.
“Good.”
“And the team?”
“We’re looking strong. It should be a good season.”
“That’s great, Andy. Isn’t that great?” She frowned, as my father toyed with something on the sideboard.
“Andrew?”
“What is this?” He turned slowly and my stomach sank.
Shit.
He was holding the fostering information leaflet Mya had brought home for me to look at.
“Asher, what is this?” he repeated.
“Relax, Dad,” I replied. “It’s just a leaflet.”
“About fostering.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Andy. Probably something to do with Mya’s course. Come sit down,” Mom patted the couch.
He dropped the leaflet on the side and joined us. “Tell me you’re not seriously considering fostering, Son?”
“And if we were?” I sat straighter, feeling a lick of irritation up my spine.
“Be reasonable, Asher. You’re just kids. You have your whole lives ahead of you to think about kids. I thought you wanted to focus on the business, on growing—”
“I do,” I snapped, hating that no matter how hard he tried to be better, to do better, underneath it all, Andrew Bennet was still the same rigid, narrow-minded man he’d always been.
“Did you know that lots of young professionals foster?”
“Sweetheart, this is... well, it’s a lot.” Mom looked flustered. “I thought Mya wanted to graduate and do her social work training?”
“She do
es, but her heart is with working with kids. This is the best of both worlds.”
“Now, hang on a minute, Son. It sounds like you’ve already made the decision. You’re in junior year. There’s still two years left of—”
“Hmm, is everything okay?” Mya appeared in the doorway.
“Actually,” I said, standing. “I was just telling my parents about the fostering thing.”
“You were?” Her eyes darted to them and back to me, confusion glittering in her gaze.
“Yeah, my dad noticed the leaflet and had some questions.” I gave him a tight smile.
“I see. Well, it’s really only a pipe dream at the moment,” she said.
“Asher made it sound like it’s already decided,” Dad clipped out and I heard my mom shush him.
“He did, did he?” Mya narrowed her eyes, slowly approaching me. “What are you doing?” she mouthed.
Roping my arm around her waist, I pulled her close. “I’ve been thinking… and I think we should do it. As soon as you turn twenty-one, we should see about getting our license and—”
“Whoa, slow down.” Strangled laughter spilled from her lips. “We still have to graduate.”
“I know. But I’ve been thinking about Xander and Hugo and all the work you do at New Hope. If we can give some kid a safe place and security and a chance at a better future, we should do it.”
Deep down, I think I’d known the second Mya brought it up that it was the right move, but we were young, and it was a big decision.
I wanted it though.
I wanted it with Mya.
Her lip curved. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I can start the business and you can stay at home with the kids and play Suzy Homemaker.” It was my turn to smile.
Mya batted my chest. “You did not just say that.”
“Oh, I did.” Parents forgotten, I dipped my head, and brushed my lips over hers. “We’ll need a house, something with more space and a yard; oh, and a dog. I’ve always wanted a dog.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Certifiable.” I grinned, but the rough bark of my father’s cough, ruined the moment.
“Son, we should probably talk about this.”
