Aaron sat back against the seat in the car and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the snow outside. He didn't want to see the lights and the Christmas trees and everything that let him know that other people were happy. He was only seven, but Aaron knew that being happy was all fake. Maybe, if he kept his eyes closed for long enough, it would be like the last year never happened. He could pretend he never left Emily's house. His arm hurt inside the cast, though, and he knew his body was covered in scars he didn't have the last time.
Emily was talking to him, but Aaron ignored her. It was better than having his caseworker, Erin Strauss, drop him off places. She treated him like some little kid who didn't know anything. The only nice thing Erin Strauss did was give him a winter hat and coat out of the trunk of her car. But he knew she did that for every kid, because she had a lot of hats and coats. Emily, at least, treated him like a person.
He tried to listen. It was polite, and if he behaved himself then maybe, he wouldn't have to go back, like the last time. When he was six, he stayed with Emily for one day and one night after he tried to run away. His real mom and dad found him though, and took him back home. Then, everything got so much worse.
"…don't have any kids right now, so it's just going to be you and me again. Do you want the same bedroom you had before?"
Aaron swallowed, but made himself speak up. "Yes, thank you."
Emily looked at him through the rearview mirror. She had brown eyes and dark brown hair just like he did. Out walking around, no one would know he was her foster kid. They would just think he was her real son. He liked thinking that, but didn't let himself think about it much. He knew things didn't work out the way he wanted them to.
The house was just like Aaron remembered. Big, with a lot of bricks. That was the best thing to use to keep bad people out. Emily had some rocks in her front yard that she called a garden. Aaron didn't want to hurt her feelings by telling her that a garden needed flowers in it. He followed her into the house. Just like last time, Aaron had nothing with him. He was wearing stuff that a person at the hospital bought for him.
"Everything's pretty much like it was before," Emily told him, but she showed him around anyway. "This is the kitchen," she said, and then she took him to every part of it. She showed him how to get a drink of water, and said he could have one whenever he was thirsty.
He looked at her carefully, to see that she was telling the truth. It was hard to tell sometimes. Adults had ways of tricking kids.
"Is everything okay?" Emily asked. She stopped what she was doing and came down to his level. Aaron took a step back. He didn't like it when people got in his space, because that usually meant something bad was going to happen.
"Not to be rude…but I just know all this already…I was here last year…so I remember…" That was true. But he believed her last time, and this time, he wasn't so sure.
Instead of getting mad, Emily smiled. "You have a good memory. I just want to make sure you feel comfortable here. So, I'm going to show you around, if that's okay."
"Yes, ma'am," he answered, feeling disappointed in himself. Emily didn't know everything was different now and he couldn't tell her. So he just followed behind her and looked at everything she showed him, pretending he believed her when she said it was okay to get water, have a piece of fruit from the table, use the bathroom or play with the toys.
Emily watched as Aaron walked the perimeter of each room, eyeing her like he wasn't sure if he could trust her. She wished she could do something to reassure him. He was so different than the last time she'd seen him. He had stayed with Emily just 24 hours last year after he wandered away from his home. By all accounts, it was just an oversight by the parents where each thought the other had been watching him. Now, however, Emily was sure that there had been something darker going on.
After showing him around the house, Emily made sure new kids bathed and she checked their belongings to see what they had and what was needed. The latter wasn't necessary with little Aaron because he came with nothing at all. Even his coat and hat had been given to him by his case worker. The red and blue Cars pajamas that hung off his thin frame - a gift from the hospital staff.
She got him a washcloth and towel and filled the tub with warm water. Then, she got a black garbage bag, and prepared to insulate the cast. Shirtless now, so she could see the myriad of scars on his tiny body, the wariness came back into his eyes. He stared at her.
"What, honey?" she asked. "I'm just going to put this around your cast so it doesn't get wet, okay? It won't hurt, I promise."
"I don't need a bath," Aaron said, matter-of-fact.
"Well…" Emily hedged. "I'd like you to take one. You'll feel better. It's really important not to get the cast wet, though, and this garbage bag is the best way to keep it dry."
His brown eyes grew darker, as he grabbed the bag from her hand and pushed past her.
"If you want me to go, you can just say so. I don't want to stay with you, anyway," he said, his voice shaking a little.
Aaron wasn't dumb. He knew a garbage bag didn't mean keeping a cast dry. Keeping a cast dry wasn't even important anyway. Garbage bags meant, pack up all your stuff and get the hell out because nobody wants you anymore. He learned that from the lots of times his real mom and dad kicked him out of the house. And from the other time, Emily sent him back to his house after he spent the night.
The only problem was, he didn't have anything. Even the winter stuff wasn't his. Even these pajamas - they weren't his either. He looked around the bedroom that was his last year. At the green and white bedspread and the clothes in the closet for every age boy, not just seven-year-olds. It made him feel heavy inside. He wasn't sure what to do with the bag so he put it back under the sink with the rest.
He was on his way to the front door when Emily caught up with him.
"Aaron, stop," she said, her voice soft but firm.
He froze. He held his breath. He was ready.
Emily came around to face him and got in his space again. "I don't want you to go. I shouldn't have given you that bag. That's what I used to pack your stuff in last time, wasn't it?"
Aaron nodded, just a little.
"That was my mistake. Here," and, like magic, she found a white garbage bag with red ties. "Is this better for your cast?" she asked, even though it wouldn't matter what he said.
"You don't need to waste them on me. I don't need one," he said again. That was a close call, and he was determined to be as good as possible and not use up all of Emily's stuff.
"I'm the mom, okay?" she reminded him gently. "That means I take care of you when you're hurt and make sure you have food to eat and a warm bed to sleep in at night. Part of taking care of you is making sure that cast stays dry so your arm can heal."
Aaron sighed. She wasn't going to back down on this. Still not too sure, he offered her his arm with the cast and let her put the bag around it. Just like she promised, it didn't hurt.
By the time five o'clock rolled around, Emily felt exhausted. Though Aaron was obviously doing his best not to be a bother, he also refused toys, which meant that he ended up following her from room to room, completely silent.
When left completely alone, Aaron would barricade himself in small areas. Behind furniture, in closets or under his bed. When Emily asked if he was okay, he said yes, and honestly meant it. So she had spent hours, on her stomach or curled into the impossibly tight space in her closet beside him. She read him stories about a puppy who was not safe and had to find another home.
Aaron didn't say a word, but listened intently, and often asked her to point to a specific word on the page, or to reread a particular passage. Curled up like this, he couldn't be comfortable, but he seemed more at ease now than when he was out in the open. So she read story after story. Some funny, some serious, some with morals, some about foster care, and some of her favorites from when she was growing up. He listened for hours, not saying a word, and when she had to get up to make dinner he followed closely behind, clutching Dr. Seuss's Oh, the Places You'll Go tightly to his chest.
Emily made macaroni and cheese, and hot dogs for dinner. It definitely wasn't her favorite menu item, but a decade of caring for kids in foster care let her know that such meals were comforting and somewhat familiar. So it wasn't a total loss nutritionally, he served it with green beans.
Aaron sat, silently looking at his plate. His stomach growled, betraying his hunger,
"Go ahead. You can eat," she encouraged gently. She didn't say what she was thinking. That he needed to eat. He was dangerously underweight and appeared more like a three or four-year-old than a seven-year-old. The only clue to his real age was the missing front teeth.
Aaron couldn't believe all the food. This whole plate couldn't be for him. But Emily kept nodding and telling him to take bites. He was hungry, but wasn't used to eating all at once like this. It took a long time to eat it all, but Aaron did, because he didn't know when he'd get to eat next.
When he was done, he helped Emily by bringing the plates to the sink and when she said he could be excused to go play, he found the Dr Seuss book and tried to read the words.
There was no television at Emily's house and only her cell phone that vibrated sometimes. He knew better than to try and touch it. Phones were private property and so were televisions and everything in a person's house. Unless Aaron bought something with money that he earned, he didn't have the right to touch it. The book was different, because Emily told him he could read it as much as he wanted.
He paged through it again and again. After a while of following Emily around, she sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to her. Aaron wasn't so sure about what she meant. So he waited until she said to come sit next to her.
He sat stiffly, wondering what would happen next. When she opened the book and started reading to him again, Aaron relaxed. He liked the sound of her voice when she was reading.
She tried asking him what his favorite part was, but he didn't know what the right answer was, so he turned the question on her and asked her what her favorite part was. She smiled and turned to the page where there were a whole bunch of people waiting. Aaron didn't like that page, but he kept his mouth shut.
There was a snack before bed, and then Aaron had to brush his teeth, only he didn't know how. So he waited by the sink until Emily showed him. Then there was a special story about a prince, which Aaron liked better than all the other stories.
"Good night," she said, smiling at him. "I'll leave the door open, so you can see the light in the hallway, okay, buddy?"
Aaron nodded a little. His legs hurt and his arm hurt, and it felt funny to sleep here. The bed was too soft and the house was too quiet. So he stayed awake and listened for the time when everything would change. He didn't move. He couldn't breathe that good. He wondered if he would still be here tomorrow, or if his real mom and dad would get him back just like before.
Upstairs, Emily dialed Dave and Carolyn. "Yeah, Aaron's back," she said, sadness in her voice.
"Little Aaron Hotchner?" Dave said, incredulous.
"You mean that sweet little guy who kept asking you why you didn't know where the brown house was where he lived? Or about the yellow and orange park?" Carolyn asked, having picked up the extension.
"That's him. But he's very different this time around. Much more reserved and quiet. I picked him up from the hospital. He's got a spiral fracture of his arm, and scars like I've never seen. God, I should have never let him go back to that house. I knew something wasn't right. Nobody just loses complete track of their six-year-old for an entire day."
"Emily, there wasn't much you could do about it," Dave offered, matter-of-factly. "Your job is to work within the guidelines you're given. If the social worker says he's got to go back home, then you had to let him go. Concentrate on right now. How you can help him. What he needs from you."
"And if you need anything, let us know. You're both in our prayers," Carolyn reassured.
"If you want to bring him by…" Dave interjected. "I still have the recipe for the spaghetti he enjoyed so much when he had dinner here."
"Thanks, I'll remember that," Emily said, smiling. She hung up with them and then quietly made her way downstairs to check on Aaron. He was wide awake in bed, and she suspected he hadn't moved since a half-hour earlier.
Her heart broke for him, but she vowed to do all she could to make life better while he was with her.
