Heart of Glass (Fostering Love 3)

Henry and I hadn’t been close. He’d been kind of impossible to get close to, and I’d never tried very hard. Our relationship, for lack of a better word, had been nothing more than a way to let off steam. We’d hung out for a couple of months, usually with a group of his friends, and more often than not had ended up naked together by the end of the night. Henry had been a lot of fun, but even if I’d been searching for my forever, I’d known early on that he wasn’t someone I wanted to be with long term. He was a nice guy, though, and I’d considered him a friend, even after he’d made it clear that he couldn’t be Etta’s dad. The guy’d had a lot of problems that he hid well from the world, and I couldn’t fault him for that. I told myself that we all had things that we tried to deal with as best we could. No one was perfect, especially not me.

I clicked on the message and sat with my thumbs poised over the phone screen, unsure how I wanted to reply.

You’re welcome, I finally typed. I’m glad that Etta has family that wants to know her. I was nervous about all that.

His reply was almost instantaneous. Nervous?

How did I explain all of the fears that had been plaguing me since Etta was born? Part of me had felt relieved when Henry had decided to completely distance himself from us. I worried about how Etta would feel about his decision as she got older, but I’d also felt a sense of comfort knowing that she was all mine. I was sure that made me a horrible person, but I couldn’t help it.

I would have never made that decision for Henry, could have never taken away his rights if he’d wanted them. However, knowing that he didn’t want a relationship with Etta had made me feel more secure. When I was a kid, my mom had taken us away from my dad for no reason and moved us from Central California to Oregon. I’d never forgiven her for that, and I would never have done that to Etta. The flip side of that had been the constant fear that Henry would change his mind and try to take our daughter from me.

Having a child was scary, period. Having a child with someone you didn’t share your life with made it infinitely scarier in a variety of ways. The loneliness had been horrible in the beginning, and when it was mixed with the fear of sharing my baby with someone who didn’t seem to want any solid part in her life? Well, that had been damn near devastating to think about.

I just wasn’t sure what your family would do, I replied. You always hear horror stories about stuff like that.

Henry’s family scared me more because they had a history of taking in kids that weren’t theirs. It was admirable, the way they’d taken in foster kids. I wasn’t sure how they’d been able to do that. I was pretty sure I didn’t have the strength to raise kids like my own knowing I’d probably have to give them back. But that also meant that they had the knowledge and contacts to be able to take Etta.

It wasn’t logical. I knew that. Etta was safe and happy and cared for, and the courts usually favored mothers in situations like that. My fears weren’t rational; they were the outcome of a life lived in a series of hotels with my mother and then multiple foster homes while my dad fought to get me and my sister back. I’d learned the hard way that the courts didn’t always work the way they were supposed to.

My heart raced a little as I waited for Trevor to text me back. I hoped I hadn’t offended him, but I was trying to be honest. Well, as honest as I was willing to be, considering the fact that I was still pretty freaked out that he’d shown up at all.

Lucky for both of us, my family’s pretty great.

How are they doing? I asked, curious about them. I remembered his parents fondly, even though they scared the shit out of me. It couldn’t have been easy losing one of their boys. I can’t imagine losing a child.

They’re okay. Mostly. Still dealing. My mom is taking things the hardest, but she’s hanging in.

Henry was the baby, right?

Yep. He’s the youngest.

Are you the oldest?

How could you tell? My distinguished good looks?

Process of elimination. Aren’t there only two of you? ;)

Beeeeep. Wrong. There’s three. Shane is in the middle of us. Just a little younger than me.

I don’t remember him.

He was a foster, he might have come after you were there? Not sure. He was pretty old when he moved in, but he was one of the kids who stayed. He ended up marrying my cousin Kate.