MJ stood up from the bench, but he didn’t rush to Maria’s side. He ambled over and stopped a few feet away.
Maria smiled at him with tears, I presumed, of joy, sliding down her cheeks. When MJ didn’t move, she opened one arm wide, keeping the other firmly around Sofia’s shoulder, and said, “Mijo, I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Mama,” he replied, but stood his ground.
That’s when I left the bench and joined them on the patio. “Go hug your mother,” I whispered to MJ. When he didn’t immediately move, I nudged his shoulder. “Now.”
He shuffled to his mother’s side, allowing her to embrace him. She had to stand on her toes to kiss his cheek. Eventually, she stopped fussing over her children and turned her attention to me.
“I’m Grace.” I smiled. “I’m a friend of MJ’s.” That seemed the easiest way to describe our current relationship.
Maria gave me a dubious look and turned to her son.
“She’s teaching me to be a lawyer, Mama.”
“A lawyer?” She said something to him in Spanish, which I didn’t understand.
That’s when the woman in the lab coat, who’d been standing off to the side watching the exchange, offered me her hand. “Cheryl Simpson. I’m a family therapist here at the Center.”
“Grace Keegan Hughes,” I said as I shook her hand.
“Will you be the one bringing the kids to visit?” she asked, clearly confused about my role here.
“No, I just drove them today because their foster parents were busy.”
“Then you’re not their legal guardian?”
“No,” I said without elaboration.
“Okay, well, they’ll be meeting with their mom for about an hour today, depending on how things go. First visits are always a little unpredictable. Were you planning on waiting here or were you going to leave and come back? I can text you when they’re done.”
There was no nearby coffee shop, and by the time I drove home, I’d just have to turn around and drive back, so I told her I’d wait. It was too hot to loiter on the sunny patio, so I decided to take a walk around the grounds.
I’d just settled onto a patch of grass under a large shady tree trying to clear my mind and meditate, when I heard a voice calling my name. I opened my eyes and spied Dr. Stetler heading towards me. If I’d spotted him before he’d spotted me, I would’ve hidden. Too late now. He was wearing the same khakis he’d worn every day I’d been a patient at the Wellstone Center, but in a nod to the weather, he’d paired the pants with a short-sleeve button down instead of his signature flannel shirt.
I’d been sitting cross-legged, but as he approached, I stretched my legs out in front of me, ensuring there would be at least a few feet of distance between us and he’d have to stand in the sun. “How long have you been here?” he asked, shading his eyes from the glare.
I glanced up. “Under this tree? Just a few minutes.”
The smile remained plastered on his face, but I could tell from the deep breath he drew in then slowly released that my answer had annoyed him. Mission accomplished.
“Same old Grace,” he said.
“Yup,” I replied, but it wasn’t true. When I’d arrived at the Wellstone Center after my failed suicide attempt, I’d wanted to die. Now I was committed to living. And Dr. Stetler deserved none of the credit for the change in my mental state.
“So, you’re back as an outpatient?” he asked.
“No, just visiting.” That was all the explanation I was willing to give.
“But you’re still seeing a therapist, I hope.”
“Yes. She’s very good.”
“Wonderful to hear,” he said with false cheer. “Well, if you ever need me, you know where to find me.”
I smiled benignly. As if! That’s what happened when you spent your days talking to teenagers; you picked up their expressions. Olivia Baylor, my client and MJ’s student since he started tutoring her in math a few months ago, said “as if” all the time. MJ picked up the expression from Olivia and now I said it too.
Olivia was the reason MJ had agreed to apply to the Winston Academy. He had a crush on her, although he wouldn’t admit it. I was just happy he was enrolled in a better high school.
I remained under the tree until MJ and Sofia reappeared on the patio, but with Dr. Simpson only.
“How did it go?” I asked.
I’d directed my question at MJ, but it was Dr. Simpson who answered. “Very well for a first visit.”
I tried to make eye contact with MJ, but he stood with his hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts and stared at the ground.
“I’ll send their social worker an email,” Dr. Simpson said, “but you can let their foster parents know same time next week.”
Sofia skipped back to the car, smiling and humming to herself, but MJ didn’t speak. Nor did he participate in the eye-spy game Sofia and I played for the entire forty-minute drive back to Tim and Richard’s house. When we arrived, I parked out front and walked them inside. I knew Tim was home because his minivan was in the driveway, but the only child with him was Makeyla. The three boys were out somewhere with Richard.
“How did it go today?” Tim asked, glancing from MJ to me.
I met Tim the day after Sofia and MJ had moved in. MJ had texted me his new foster home was okay, but I wanted to see for myself. And I had an excuse to visit because I’d promised to drop off Sofia’s dollhouse. Tim was tall and broad shouldered with freckled skin and a wholesome smile. I immediately imagined him as a former prom king who’d dated cheerleaders in high school and was the star of the football team. I could not have been more wrong.
Tim had helped me carry the dollhouse in from my car, then offered me a coffee. I accepted and we ended up talking for hours. That’s when I learned he knew from a young age he was gay and he hated sports. Richard, his husband, was the sports fan in the family. I met him when Tim invited me over for a barbeque that weekend. With his dark skin, dad bod, and prickly demeanor, Richard was the inverse of Tim. They were the poster couple for opposites attract.
MJ replied to Tim’s question about his mother with a shrug and raced up the steps. A few seconds later we heard a bedroom door slam shut and we both stared up at the ceiling. Then Tim turned to the girls and suggested they go out back and play with the dogs. After Makeyla and Sofia left, Tim said, “I take it the visit didn’t go well?”
