Starlee's Home (The Wayward Sons 3)

“I’ll clean it up, Dex,” she says, touching his arm. “No one’s going to jail for arson.”

“If I am, I’m taking George with me. He’s prettier than I am.”

“No one is going to jail,” she repeats, then looks at me. “I know these boys spoiled the mood, but you still owe me a kiss.”

I’m thankful for the wrecked mood because I was wound tighter than a spring. Too tight, and I know I need more time with her. More space, so I walk over and take her face in my hands and place a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Merry Christmas, Starlee.”

She tilts her head. “That’s all?”

“For now.” I smooth her hair with my hand.

She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight, knowing exactly what to give each of us when we need it. I just hope we do the same for her.

27

Starlee

The magical glow of Christmas fades fast. After the party, Leelee and I spent the day together binge-watching TV and eating leftovers Tom sent home with us the night before. My grandmother gave Katie a few days off to go visit family, so I’m on office duty for the few guests that we have in the hotel part of the lodge. Things are slow all around and I try to focus on my reading for Lit, but I keep going down the YouTube rabbit hole of Supernatural fan videos instead.

By noon, it’s clear the day is going to be a complete wash.

The sound of car doors slamming is what drags me back to the real world. I peer out the window and recognize Mrs. Delange walking up the sidewalk.

“What do you think that’s about?”

Leelee glances up from her word puzzle book that she got from her brother for Christmas. “Sierra said her licensing review was coming up.”

“Oh right.” I’d forgotten with everything going on. “What happens if she passes? Can the boys come back?”

“In theory I guess, but as long as they’re doing well with their father I doubt they’ll make any changes.”

I watch the social worker climb the steps and enter the residential side of the house. It’ll be good if she can get her license back. Then the boys can come back if they need to. I don’t know if she’ll take in any other foster kids. There’s something about those boys that made her want to open her home to them.

“You could go over and order us some coffee.” She looks at me over her glasses. “Maybe see what’s up.”

“I don’t think Sierra would want me over there.” I go back to the stool in front of the computer. “She’s still worried about me having the runaway flag on my record.”

“Your what?”

Crap. Leelee didn’t know this part of the story. Time to ‘fess up. “It’s my understanding that when I flew out here without permission, Mom called the police and reported me as a runaway. I guess after we worked things out it was never removed. The social workers see me as a 'high risk' neighbor for the boys.” I use air quotes because I can’t with the terminology.

“Well that doesn’t seem right.” She frowns. “Is that why you haven’t been spending much time with the boys lately?”

I didn’t realize she’d noticed. “Yeah some of it. Just trying to make it easier on Sierra.”

“You should have told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to bother you with all this.” I didn’t want her to reconsider letting me stay.

“Next time you talk to me, okay? Sometimes adults need to get involved so we can figure things out.”

I move back to the window and stare at the Wayward Sun. I don’t go over but I’m not budging until the social worker leaves. She stays for an hour, walking out with her file folder hugged against her chest. After she drives off, I wait another ten minutes. “Honey just go over and see.”

“Fine. But if she gets mad I’m telling her that you sent me over for pastries.”

“That sounds reasonable. I’d like some Bobby’s Balls if Dexter made some fresh.” Hearing my grandmother talk about “Bobby’s Balls” always catches me somewhere between horrified and hysterical. I just don’t have a sense of humor, at the moment, so I nod and head out the door.