Phew, okay this is finally done! It's honestly been nearly done for uh... a few months now, but I ran into the same problem I had with the last kintsugi update- that is, my original end goal for the chapter was getting further and further away as the chapter got longer and I got frustrated and ended up having to put the whole thing on hold for awhile until I was ready to come back to it. Also apparently Jim got a canon birthday in between my initial write-up of this chapter and when I came back to it, but it would cause massive timeline issues so I'm just. going to ignore that and go with what I'd originally planned, lol.
As always, thanks for reading!
go into your local forest and you will find a friend and a boy
part three
jim & home
"Well, what do you think?"
Standing just outside the door, Jim cast a studious glance over the room. There was the promised bed, along with an end table with an alarm clock, as well as a desk and chair set, a lamp, and a small dresser.
"I know it's not much," he heard Barbara say behind him, "-but we can always get more furniture later if you need it."
"No, this is," Jim began, his voice briefly catching in his throat, "-it's great. Really."
He meant it, too. Maybe it looked sparse to Barbara, but for someone who'd been mostly sleeping outside up until now, it was a huge upgrade. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he even deserved all this- but the doctor must have thought he did, otherwise she wouldn't have offered it.
Granted, she could have just felt sorry for him.
Setting his backpack down at the end of the bed, Jim's fingers brushed the comforter. It felt... soft, way softer than any of his usual sleeping spots. That could be a problem, he idly thought, before glancing over his shoulder. From the doorway, Toby was giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up, and he couldn't help but crack a faint smile in spite of himself. Being neighbors did sound kind of fun.
"So, uh," he awkwardly rubbed his elbow, his eyes flicking towards Barbara, "-what now?"
"That's up to you, kiddo." Barbara said. "Although personally, I think more rest is in order. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been favoring that right foot of yours."
Jim winced. Had it been that obvious? He thought he'd been doing a pretty good job covering it up.
"It's fine," he said, "-probably just pulled something, that's all."
"Still, you should try to keep off of it." Barbara said. "Would ice help?"
"I... don't know." Jim admitted. "Haven't exactly made a habit of getting injured."
"Good habit not to get into." Barbara observed.
Jim chuckled nervously, not knowing what else to say.
"I'll just let you unpack." Barbara smiled. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."
Jim nodded, fighting the urge to sigh in relief once she was gone. That was... something he was just going to have to get used to, he guessed, if he was going to be living here.
And he was. Going to be living here, that is. Which... wow. That was such a weird thought.
"So," Toby slid into the room- his room, he guessed, "-I guess we're neighbors now, huh?"
"Guess so." Jim said, taking a seat on the bed. It creaked slightly under his weight, but it'd probably hold him just fine. "Although technically, since I was living in the forest around your house these past few months, we've been neighbors for awhile now."
"Yeah, I don't think that really counts." Toby said, plopping himself down on the bed next to him. Thankfully it held both their weights. "So, uh... are you still mad at me?"
"I was never mad at you, Toby." Jim rolled his eyes.
Toby just arched a brow.
"...okay, yeah. Maybe I was a little mad." Jim admitted, pulling down his hood. "But I get why you did it. I probably would have made the same choice in your shoes."
"Sorry for risking your big secret." Toby said. "But hey! Now you've got a place to stay! That's not a tree! How's that for a win?"
Jim chuckled. "It's not what I expected, but... it's pretty nice, I guess."
Sure, there was still a part of him that was convinced he was making a mistake. He'd spent so long following his dad's rules, never letting himself get close to anyone, that it was hard to shake them. And honestly... he still wasn't sure this was the right answer.
He'd just... really like it to be.
"You know what we should do?" Toby asked. "We should get some walkie-talkies."
"Some what?" Jim asked, arching a brow.
"You know, walkie-talkies!" Toby said. "That way we can talk to each other even when we're across the street! It'd be totally cool!"
"Sounds fun, Tobes." Jim said, even though he honestly had no idea what Toby was talking about still. He'd probably find out later, knowing Toby. Once he got an idea in his head, he rarely let it go.
They lapsed into a blessedly peaceful silence. He'd honestly expected things to be more awkward between them after the whole attacked by a vicious troll thing, but he guessed if what Toby said was true, then there'd been another troll there protecting them too. That was... weird, but he guessed he was grateful. Maybe it just thought he was a normal troll or something.
Frankly, he didn't want to think about it anymore than he had to.
Unzipping his backpack, Jim busied himself with unpacking. It didn't take very long- he didn't exactly have a lot of stuff. He tucked what few clothes he had into the dresser, before placing the watch on the end table, and put the comics Toby had given him on the desk. His backpack he set down at the foot of the bed, plucking out the canteen he'd pilfered from an empty campsite years ago and setting it on the desk.
And just like that, he was done.
...wow, that was depressing, actually. He really didn't have a lot of stuff.
"Maybe you should get Doctor L to take you shopping." Toby observed, his voice blessedly free of judgement.
"What, like to a mall?" Jim asked, arching a brow.
"Well, more like on a computer." Toby said, mimicking typing on a keyboard. "You know, online shopping?"
"Yeah, I don't think so." Jim said. "She's already doing enough by letting me stay here. I couldn't actually ask her to spend money on me."
"Hey, just throwing it out there." Toby shrugged.
Jim just hummed in reply. New clothes would be nice, but he could survive without them. The last thing he wanted to do was to be a burden on Barbara. He'd gotten this far by scavenging for things he needed- no need to change that now, just because he had an actual roof over his head for once.
"So," Toby grinned, "-what do you want to do first, now that we're officially next door neighbors?"
The faintest edge of a grin surfaced on Jim's lips as she glanced in Toby's direction. "...Gun Robot movie marathon?"
"I knew there was a reason I liked you."
That first week, Barbara resolved to give Jim space. This was no doubt a big adjustment for him, so he likely needed some time to get used to things without her hovering over him.
Predictably, he spent most of that time with Toby- at least until winter break ended, and he had to go back to school. After that, he spent most of his time either in his room or out of the house. His foot seemed to have healed up in record time, as had his head, which was a relief, otherwise she would have put her foot down on the latter activity.
They didn't speak much that first week. The box of VHS tapes disappeared at some point that first day, presumably taken by Jim. She put another old box from the basement in its place- after making sure there was nothing she'd regret losing in it, of course. It too, disappeared in short order.
Not the way she thought she'd cleaned out the basement, but she had to admit, it was probably more environmentally friendly than taking them to the curb.
There were other signs of him moving around the house. He didn't seem to be taking showers, but he did seem to be washing his hair (or was it fur?). The remote would move while she was away at work, and the bookcases had been curiously picked over. She also suspected he was sleeping on the floor of his room, as opposed to the actual bed, but maybe after a lifetime spent sleeping in trees, a soft bed was hard to get used to. At least he seemed to be using the pillows.
In the end, Jim was the one to approach her first.
"You're, uh... out of laundry pods."
Barbara glanced up from her computer, thoughtfully humming. "Thanks for letting me know. Can you add it to the list?"
"Uh..." Jim trailed off, his gaze briefly flickering towards the pad of paper she'd indicated. "I don't exactly... I can't write."
Now that gave her pause. Frowning, she looked properly up at the half-troll. He briefly flinched under her gaze, before slightly relaxing.
"I thought you could read?" Barbara asked. He was, after all, always reading comics with Toby.
"I can," Jim said, "-I mean, sort of. Dad taught me how."
"Just not how to write." Barbara finished.
Jim didn't say anything to that, his gaze dropping. Out of shame, most likely. Heaving a slight sigh, she closed her laptop. Bill payments could wait.
"Well, now's as good a time as any to start learning." Barbara said. "Since you already know how to read, it shouldn't be too hard. Take a seat. I'll get some paper."
Jim blinked, cocking his head slightly in her direction. "I wouldn't want to get in your way."
"Nonsense," Barbara said, "-besides, this will help both of us in the long run."
Jim hesitated, but eventually pulled out a chair. Thankfully, it didn't snap underneath his weight. Good craftsmanship, she guessed.
Briefly ducking into her room, she returned with a pad of paper and a pen in short order. Placing them in front of Jim, she pulled a chair next to him, taking a seat. He tensed, this time not quite relaxing as he had earlier.
She pretended not to notice.
"Let's start with the basics." Barbara said, handing him the pen. He held it carefully, briefly seeming to debate which hand to hold it in, before opting for his right.
Jim proved to be a quick study, as it turned out- eager to absorb new information. He relaxed at some point in the lesson, which she also pretended not to notice. His handwriting was definitely going to need some work, but it was at least understandable by the end, which was really all that mattered.
It also highlighted a need that she hadn't even considered.
How much education had he gotten from his father? He certainly hadn't gotten any while he'd been on his own. How much would a troll even know about human subjects anyways? Clearly he'd known how to at least read, but she wouldn't be surprised if Jim was woefully undereducated in all other subjects.
Good thing they were living in the digital age now. Homeschooling resources were likely plentiful. She'd start off with a few basic workbooks and go from there.
"I think that's enough for one day." Barbara said. "Toby should probably be coming back from school soon. Go on and play."
Jim blinked, as if he hadn't realized that much time had passed. "Oh, um... yeah. Thanks."
Barbara smiled, ruffling his hair in spite of herself. He tensed at her touch, but didn't jerk away. She didn't let it linger overlong, withdrawing her hand just as quickly as she'd put it there.
"No problem, kiddo," she said, "-anything else I should pick up while I'm getting those laundry pods?"
"No," Jim shook his head, "-I'm fine."
Yeah. That was about what she'd expected him to say.
"She bought you workbooks? Ouch. And here I thought you'd be able to escape the tortures of academia."
"Aca-what now?" Jim asked, arching a brow. "It's not that bad. I don't mind learning."
"You can only say that because you've never been subjected to the torments of public school." Toby countered. "It starts off all fun and easy, and that's when they hit you with long division."
Jim chuckled in spite of himself. "Something tells me it'll be awhile before I get to that. Doctor Lake's starting me off with the basics."
It would be insulting... if it also wasn't the right call. His dad had taught him the kind of basic addition and subtraction that might be useful in his daily life, and then basically called it quits on the subject. It wasn't really practical for a life spent on the road. Now that he was actually staying in one place... well, it probably wouldn't hurt to learn. Maybe he could even find a way to put it to use to help the doctor, although he wasn't sure how.
"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." Toby said.
"I'll be sure to keep it in mind."
"...are you okay?"
Drawing in a long breath, Barbara turned to glance at the half-troll behind her. She'd thought he was still over at Toby's, but she must have lost track of time.
Days like today had that kind of effect on her.
"I'm fine," she half-lied, "-have fun at Toby's?"
Jim tilted his head slightly, not entirely seeming convinced of her okayness. "Yeah, I just came back over to..." he trailed off, "-are you sure you're okay?"
She nearly opened her mouth to say that she was, before slowly shutting it. If they were going to be living together from now on, Jim deserved at least some portion of the truth, if not the whole of it. Somehow telling a ten year old child that today was the anniversary of the day she both lost her son and had her husband leave her didn't exactly feel appropriate. Besides, Jim had enough problems of his own to worry about without adding hers to it.
"Today's just... a bad day for me, that's all. I'm sure I'll be better tomorrow."
"Oh," Jim frowned, "-um, I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, kiddo," Barbara said, "-but thank you. I appreciate it."
Jim nodded, hesitating for a few long seconds before slowly taking half a step back. "I'll just... grab what I came back for and get out of your hair."
"You're not in my hair, I promise." Barbara assured him. "But I won't keep you either. Go on."
That was apparently all the encouragement he needed, because Jim was gone nearly the moment she said it. He vanished upstairs, coming back down after a few minutes with some forgotten item of Toby's tucked under one arm. He gave her an awkward, toothy smile before he quickly retreated out the front door.
The house felt quiet with him gone.
Funny. She hadn't even noticed how used she'd gotten to the noise. Jim did his best to be a quiet houseguest in spite of being made of literal stone, but that was slowly starting to change. She kind of preferred it that way, if anything. Not to sound like a cliche, but it made the place feel a little less like a house and more like... well, a home.
She hadn't had one of those since, well... since James was still around.
"Then again," Barbara muttered, crinkling her nose in distaste, "-if he's the kind of guy to walk out on his wife after she loses a baby, maybe it's a good thing he's gone."
(Maybe one of these days, she'd actually let herself believe that.)
She could hear Jim's sharp intake of breath all the way from the living room. Frowning, she got up to investigate, finding him standing in front of the washing machine.
"What's wrong?"
Jim flinched, hurriedly trying to hide something behind his back. "Nothing. I just uh... stubbed my toe?"
Barbara arched a skeptical brow. "No offense kiddo, but I'm pretty sure you'd dent the washing machine before that actually managed to hurt you."
Jim just chuckled nervously in response.
Heaving a slight sigh, Barbara held out a hand. "Let me see it."
Biting his lip, Jim hesitated- before seemingly resigning himself to his fate and handing her the jeans he'd hidden behind his back. They'd been badly shredded, an entire pant leg torn off.
"It... got caught in the washing machine." Jim explained. "When I went to try and pull it out..."
Barbara hummed, peering into the washing machine. Sure enough, there was the other half of the pant leg, still snagged in the machine. If anything, she was just surprised it had been an accident that had done them in. All of Jim's clothes looked like they were basically on the verge of falling apart. It was a miracle they'd survived the washing machine as many times as they had.
"It's okay though," Jim said quickly, "-I still have another pair."
"You need more than just one pair of jeans, kiddo." Barbara observed, casting a glance down to the pair in question which looked no less worn than the one in her hands. "What's your plan if those go?"
"I'd work something out." Jim said quickly.
"Like?" Barbara asked.
"You know... something." Jim said, nervously rubbing his elbow.
"So in other words, you don't have a plan." Barbara concluded, draping the ruined pair of jeans over one arm. "What do you say to getting some new clothes?"
"I couldn't-"
"Oh yes you can." Barbara insisted. "You're the child here. It's my job to look after you, and that includes making sure you have enough clothes."
"You don't have to look after me." Jim argued. "It's not like I'm your child."
"No, but you are a child," Barbara countered, "-and you're under my roof. Which means its my job to make sure you have everything you need."
Jim shut his mouth, clearly unable to come up with a counter argument for that. Heaving a slight sigh, Barbara folded her arms in front of her. She'd honestly been meaning to have this conversation with Jim for awhile now- it only took a few days of living with him to make it clear that he simply didn't have enough clothes, regardless of their condition. It was hardly a surprise, but she could never find the right away to approach the subject.
Well, she was approaching it now. Better late than never.
"It's really not a problem, you know." Barbara said. "I know you don't want to be a burden, but I promise you're not."
Tilting his head, Jim peeked up at her. "Are you sure?"
"Positive." Barbara assured him, before gesturing that he should follow her. "C'mon. I think BB Lean is having a big sale this week."
Jim frowned, hesitating for a moment- before slowly following behind her. She smiled to herself, honestly kind of happy he'd actually taken her up on her offer. She'd half expected that she'd need to be more insistent- or just order stuff for him anyways, regardless of what he said. She didn't want to push him too hard, but well... his clothes were in pretty bad shape.
"So," she said sitting down at her laptop, "-lets start with the underwear."
"Actually, you know what?" Jim said. "I think I've changed my mind."
"Nope, too late."
Okay, he'd admit it. It was nice to have new clothes.
His shirts didn't make the hair on his back itch anymore, and he didn't feel like one wrong move would split his pants. Barbara had even bought him actual sleepwear- no more sleeping in his day clothes.
He just wished there was something he could do to make it up to her.
"Why don't you try making her something?"
Glancing over at Toby, he watched as his friend caught a piece of popcorn in his mouth. Friday night movie marathons at Toby's place were rapidly becoming a tradition at this point. Tossing a handful of unpopped kernels into his own mouth, Jim chewed thoughtfully.
"Sure, but what?" Jim asked. "I'm not exactly the artistic type."
"I mean, nobody said it had to be a good something." Toby said. "I know I've made Nana a lot of terrible looking cards in my day, and she loves them."
"Wait, is that what's stuck all over your fridge?" Jim asked. "I thought those were a bunch of curse marks."
"Why would Nana put a bunch of curse marks up on the fridge?" Toby asked, his tone somewhere between incredulous and distressed. "Also is that a real thing?"
Jim just shrugged. "Just because I'm part troll doesn't mean I'm the expert on everything supernatural, Tobes."
"Yeah, okay, fair enough." Toby said. "But seriously dude. Just think of something nice that she might like. I promise you she'll love it even if it sucks."
Jim hummed thoughtfully. It didn't sound like a bad idea, but he didn't even know where to start. What would Barbara even want? He could follow Toby's lead, and try to make a card, but it didn't seem like enough. She'd not only taken him in, but she'd also spent what he was pretty sure was not an insignificant amount of money on his new clothes, sale or no sale. If he was going to pay her back, it had to be with something that would help her in some way.
Maybe... maybe he could cook her something? That was a nice gesture, right? He saw it all the time on TV, and Toby said it never lied. Maybe he could do that breakfast in bed thing.
Except he had no idea how to cook... or even what human tastes were like. The last thing he wanted was to make something totally inedible and waste the ingredients. He could probably follow a recipe, but...
...well, maybe he could just start with eggs. How hard could it be to make eggs?
The answer was very.
Staring down at the shattered egg in the bowl, Jim groaned. Eggshells were apparently way more fragile than he'd first thought. How was he supposed to know just cracking an egg would be this hard?
This would be so much easier if he had smaller hands.
Heaving a sigh, he scooped up the bowl and swallowed the contents. No need to waste a good egg. It was a shame humans couldn't actually eat the eggshells- they added a whole new flavor profile the egg that it didn't have otherwise.
"Okay," Jim said, "-round four."
"You're up pretty early, kiddo."
Jim flinched at the sound of her voice, something she hadn't seen him do in awhile. She also didn't typically find him in the kitchen, either... and was it just her, or did she smell something burned?
"Oh, um," Jim hesitated, his gaze briefly darting downwards, "-I wanted to do something nice for you?"
She couldn't help but notice that sounded an awful lot more like a question than it did a statement. Seemingly realizing this, Jim chuckled nervously, before slowly setting something on the counter.
Ah. So that was the source of the burnt smell.
"I... tried to make you scrambled eggs," Jim confessed, "-but they didn't exactly turn out all that well. It looked so much easier in the cookbook."
"Everything does." Barbara quipped, before cracking a smile. "What brought this on all of a sudden?"
"I don't know, I just thought..." Jim trailed off.
"Is this about the new clothes?" Barbara asked. "Because you know you don't have to pay me back for those."
"I know," Jim admitted, "-but I wanted to."
Barbara hummed, unsure if he actually did know, or if he was just saying that. Knowing him, she was willing to bet on the latter. Still, he'd gone out of his way to try and make something for her- the last thing she was going to do was turn it down.
"You know, I was just thinking about scrambled eggs when I woke up this morning." Barbara said, picking up the plate and setting it down on the table. "Think you can pass me some silverware, kiddo?"
Jim hesitated, but he did eventually hand her a fork. "You don't actually have to-"
"No," Barbara took the fork, "-but I want to."
Snapping his mouth shut, Jim faintly chuckled. "Touché."
Barbara smiled, taking a seat. If she was being honest, the eggs... didn't exactly look good. They were definitely burnt, except for one area that still looked runny and undercooked. But it wasn't like she could do much better herself- she'd been pretty notorious amongst her college roommates for being a lousy cook.
She took a bite.
She could practically feel Jim's eyes boring into her skull. He clearly wanted to ask her how it was, but was too anxious to actually do so.
"It's not bad, actually." Barbara said. "A little on the burnt side, and a bit bland, but nothing you can't work on."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jim perk up. "Really?"
"I wouldn't lie, kiddo." Barbara said, glancing back at him with a soft smile. "And I do really appreciate it. It was sweet of you."
She swore Jim's toothy smile practically glowed.
"So?" Toby asked later that morning. "How'd it go?"
"Oh, the eggs were terrible." Jim said. "But I think she really liked it anyways."
"Well there you go!" Toby said. "Just work on your cooking skills a little, and you've got a great way to thank her from now."
"You might be on to something there, Tobes." Jim said. "Also, can I borrow some eggs? I... kind of used them all up, and I don't want Doctor Lake to find out."
She was right. The eggs did turn out better the next time.
And actually, if he was being honest... this cooking thing was kind of fun. There was just something nice about seeing Barbara enjoy his food. Maybe he'd keep at it after all.
"Jim?"
"Hm?"
"Exactly how much cayenne pepper did you put in that omelet?"
"What, too much?"
"Too much," Barbara repeated, setting down the now nearly empty milk carton, the inferno in her mouth finally assuaged, "-also we need to add milk to the grocery list."
"Wow, that is not at all how that looked in the picture."
Scowling at the tray of blueberry muffins he'd just pulled out of the oven, Jim's brow furrowed. They'd sunken in on themselves, a great big cavity where there should have been a nice round dome top. The recipe had looked easy enough in the cookbook, but...
"Hey, you never know," Toby leaned over to look at them, "-they could still taste good."
"They sunk in on themselves, Tobes." Jim remarked dryly. "How could they possible taste good?"
"Looks aren't everything, dude." Toby reassured him. "Here, let me try one."
"Are you sure?" Jim frowned. "They could be disgusting."
He had offered to be his taste tester in order to avoid a repeat of the Cayenne Pepper Incident, but... he also didn't want to feed him anything that was nasty. Which yeah, he knew that basically defeated the point of having him around as a taste tester, but still. Toby was his friend. He didn't want to subject him to culinary torment.
"And I promise you, if they are, I've eaten worse." Toby said. "Nothing can be worse than chicken surprise, trust me."
Jim chuckled a little, before carefully scooping out one of his tragically sunken muffins. He passed it to Toby, who let it sit for a few moments to cool down some more, before ripping off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He watched as he chewed on it thoughtfully, before giving him a double thumbs up.
"Wait, really?" Jim asked, arching a brow. "But it looks terrible."
"And like I said, looks aren't everything." Toby said, tearing off another bite. "Maybe use less blueberries next time. They're always talking about moisture content or something on those competitive baking shows."
"You don't actually know what that means, do you?" Jim asked.
"Nope," Toby admitted, "-but it sure sounds smart, right?"
Chuckling, Jim cast a glance towards the muffins. If Toby said they tasted good... well, maybe that was all that mattered.
"Oh, these are delicious."
Immediately, Jim perked up. "Really? I mean, Toby said they were, but-"
"Well, he wasn't lying." Barbara assured him, taking another bite of deflated muffin. "Its looks could definitely use some work, though. Although I don't remember us owning a muffin pan."
Something in his stomach twisted at the word us. She had said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, barely batting an eye at it, but he'd definitely noticed.
Us. A word that included him.
He... wasn't sure how he felt about that. There was an odd bubbling in the pit of his stomach, but he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He'd felt it before- usually when Toby was around, but he'd never really been able to discern what kind of emotion it was supposed to be. It didn't feel bad, but...
...it did feel weird. Unfamiliar.
"I borrowed it from Toby's nana." Jim said, trying to play it cool. "Don't worry, I made sure to wash it before I gave it back."
"Good." Barbara nodded, taking another bite. "Maybe I should pick one up next time I get groceries."
Jim almost opened his mouth to say she didn't have to, before quickly snapping it shut. She was obviously enjoying the muffin, as deflated as they were- it would be nice if he could make them for her more often. Some mornings she had to dart out of the door so quickly that she didn't have time for a sit down breakfast, so having something she could pack in a bag and take with her would be good, right? That was why he'd tried to make muffins in the first place.
And seeing Barbara happy was just... nice.
"Yeah," he said, "-that sounds great. Hopefully the next batch turns out a little less like someone sat on them, though."
Barbara laughed. It was a nice sound.
"Did something good happen?"
Glancing up from her paperwork, Barbara blinked in the direction of her coworker. She and Doctor Naomi Wang usually worked the same shifts together, so she was well acquainted with the anesthesiologist. Today thankfully was a quiet day- plenty of time for catching up on paperwork and idle chitchat.
"What makes you say that?" Barbara asked.
"You just seem happier lately." Naomi observed, leaning over the counter. "So? Spill. Did online dating finally pay off?"
Barbara snorted. "Please. I deleted my profile after the last date brought a ventriloquist dummy with him to our meet up."
Naomi cringed. "Yeah, good call. But if it's not a new man in your life, what is it? It has to be something."
"Well..." Barbara trailed off, mulling over her answer.
Something had changed in her life recently, but she couldn't exactly tell Naomi that she'd taken in a half-troll child. She'd probably try and have her committed. But she was also too sharp to buy it if she tried to lie and say that nothing was out of the ordinary.
"I... decided to foster, actually." Barbara said after a long moment.
That sounded reasonable enough- and in a sense, it was even true. She was giving him a roof over his head, providing for his needs... the only thing missing was the paper trail and the social worker.
"Oh wow, big step." Naomi remarked. "So who's the lucky kid?"
"His name is Jim. He's around your daughter's age, actually." Barbara said- before almost instantly regretting it when Naomi perked up.
"Yeah?" Naomi asked. "You thinking playdate?"
"I'm... not so sure that's a good idea." Barbara said. "Jim's... been through a lot. I don't want to rush him into anything."
"Hm, fair enough." Naomi shrugged, thankfully not too put off by her refusal. "I guess Mary's a little too old for playdates anyways. Can you believe she'll be in middle school in a few months? I'm not sure if I'm ready for that."
"Oh, I can believe it." Barbara said, more than a little relieved she hadn't pushed the issue. "It's all Toby can ever talk about these days."
"Ah, they grow up so fast." Naomi sighed, before glancing at her watch. "Well, I've got to get to my next appointment. But if you ever need any parenting advice-"
"I'll be sure to let you know." Barbara promised.
Naomi smiled, before quickly dismissing herself. Once she was out of sight, Barbara exhaled. That... could have gone worse. She supposed it was only a matter of time before it came out that she was looking after a kid, but at least this way, she'd be able to control the narrative. People were a lot less likely to go looking for answers if you provided them up front. She'd just have to be careful she didn't say anything too weird.
And frankly, she could probably use the parenting advice.
Huffing slightly, Barbara went back to her paperwork. Calling herself Jim's parent was probably getting ahead of herself. Foster mom was a lot more accurate... although she guessed that did still have the word mom in it.
Idly, she wondered if her Jim would have been anything like him had he lived. Maybe they would have even gotten along.
It was nice to think that, at least.
"We, uh... might need to replace my alarm clock."
Glancing up, Barbara opened her mouth to ask why- before promptly snapping it shut upon catching sight of said alarm clock... or what remained of it, at least.
"Yeah, I'll say." Barbara said. "Hit the snooze button too hard?"
"That's... one way of putting it."
Toby became a frequent guest at her place once summer vacation started. He'd show up after breakfast with a wagon full of video game equipment, and leave with it around dinnertime. Eventually he just started keeping it there- probably around the same time the sleepovers started. She would find the both of them asleep in the living room in the middle of the night sometimes, too tired to make their way back up to Jim's room.
She didn't mind. It made the house livelier than ever, and above all else, it made Jim happy.
That was... surprisingly important to her, she abruptly realized.
Huh.
"Well that's just what parenting is like, dear."
Barbara frowned slightly, glancing across the table at Nancy. She'd had the night off, so they'd all gathered at the Domzalski abode to have a nice dinner together, but the dishes had long since been cleared away. Jim and Toby were upstairs in the latter's room, watching some movie he'd rented. She'd lingered behind to chat with Nancy over tea and cookies, and the subject had almost inevitably turned to Jim.
"I think parent is a bit of a strong word." Barbara said.
"Oh, I don't think so. And believe me," Nancy said, "-I know a thing or two about being a mother. Had to do it twice, you know."
Barbara's face fell slightly, her gaze unconsciously drifting towards the portrait on the wall. Nancy's didn't, but then she'd had years to come to terms with her own grief. She couldn't imagine what it was like, losing your only son like that- not to mention your daughter-in-law with him.
There hadn't even been bodies left to bury. Even she'd had that luxury.
(There was the faintest twinge in her head. She hoped she wasn't getting a migraine.)
"I'm not so sure..." Barbara trailed off, finding herself without the words to properly refute Nancy. It wasn't exactly as if they bothered her. Jim was a good kid. Any parent would be lucky to have him. She was lucky to have him.
If anything, they just felt kind of... presumptuous? Besides, he had a real mother out there somewhere already. If anything, she should be trying to find her.
"I just don't think I'm the one who gets to decide that." Barbara finally said.
Nancy simply hummed, a faint twinkle in her eyes. "If you say so, dearie. Now, how about another cup of tea?"
"Hey, kiddo, when's your birthday?"
Jim blinked, glancing up from his math workbook. "My birthday?"
Barbara hummed, spinning a pen in her hand. "Thought I'd add it to the calendar. Maybe we could do something to celebrate. Unless it's passed already, in which case we can always do it next year."
"Oh, um," Jim shifted awkwardly in his seat, "-I... don't actually know when it is. Dad would give me presents sometimes, but we didn't exactly have calendars on the road."
"Oh," Barbara's smile dropped, "-I guess that makes sense. Do you know what season it was in at least?"
"Probably late winter?" Jim frowned. "Early spring?"
Already passed then, Barbara thought, with a slight pang. He must have turned eleven some time during those first few months together. It was a shame- she would have liked a chance to celebrate it, even if she couldn't do it in the traditional cake buying sense. He'd have probably at least liked to eat the candles.
Her Jim would have had an early spring birthday too, she idly thought.
"Well, that gives me something to go off of at least." Barbara said. "What do you say to just picking a date and going with that?"
"I don't have a problem with that, but... you really don't have to celebrate my birthday." Jim said. "I haven't actually thought about it in years."
"Maybe not, but I'd like to." Barbara said.
They'd been living with each other for months now, but he could still be weirdly stubborn about some things. He'd relaxed a little when it came to buying him necessities, but she suspected that was just because he felt like he could pay her back now by cooking. Which he'd gotten better at, incidentally- he'd been branching out from breakfast foods recently. Being able to bring a homemade lunch with her to work was pretty nice for a change, even if it did raise some questions.
She'd be almost offended at the implication that she could never possibly learn to cook- provided it wasn't true. There wasn't much she could say to refute it. Thankfully, the same half-lie she'd fed to Naomi seemed to work for the rest of her too curious coworkers.
"Well, when's yours?" Jim countered.
"Last day of June." Barbara told him. "So, a month and a half ago."
She swore Jim scowled, his brows drawing together. "You could have said something."
"You don't need to celebrate my birthday either, kiddo." Barbara countered. "You've been doing more than enough around here already with all the cooking. And don't think I haven't noticed that you've been cleaning the place while I'm away at the hospital too."
Jim winced, clearly caught out. "I just-"
"-want to be useful?" Barbara finished for him.
Jim didn't say anything, instead staring at his feet like they were the most fascinating things in the world, rough nails drumming awkwardly against the floor. Heaving a sigh, Barbara tentatively touched his shoulder. He didn't flinch, or try to move away, but he did look up to meet her gaze- which was progress, in her book.
"I just- I don't want to be a freeloader, that's all." Jim admitted.
Barbara arched a brow. "Where did you even learn that word?"
Jim shrugged. "From one of Toby's nana's crime shows."
"Well trust me kiddo, you're not a freeloader," Barbara assured him, "-and you still wouldn't be, even if you didn't cook and clean. I know I told you this before, but clearly it bears repeating, so I'll say it again- you're a child, one living under my roof. It's my job as the adult to look after you and make sure you're taken care of."
"I wouldn't say birthdays are really-"
"-and to make sure you're happy." Barbara cut him off. "That's an important part of taking care of children too."
Jim snapped his mouth shut, his gaze falling to the floor again. Barbara sighed, realizing not for the first time that she clearly had her work cut out for her. How did you get a kid who was used to solving all his problems on his own to depend on her?
Gradually and with patience, probably.
"I guess," he said after a long moment of silence, "-any day is fine. If you want to."
"I do," Barbara assured him, "-and as for a date... hm, let's see... how about March 9th?"
"Sounds fine to me." Jim shrugged, clearly putting on a show of indifference.
It didn't fool her for a second.
"I'll mark it down, then." Barbara said.
Jim just nodded, hastily making an excuse to leave. She let him, watching him go with a small smile. Maybe Nancy had been on to something after all.
She'd just... keep that to herself for now.
"Everything okay, Jimbo? You're kind of spacing out there."
"Huh?" Snapping back to awareness, Jim glanced over towards Toby. "Oh, yeah- everything's fine. Just thinking."
"You sure?" Toby asked, arching a brow. "Cause you had a weird look on your face."
"I'm sure," Jim reassured him, "-now what were you saying?"
Jim listened to Toby's story about Steve's mishap with a bee's nest with half an ear, his thoughts unconsciously drifting back towards his chat with Barbara earlier in the day. He still didn't see why she wanted to celebrate his birthday, but it was kind of... nice, actually. That weird, warm fuzzy feeling was back, and while he still didn't have a name for it, it felt a lot more comfortable than it once had. Familiar, like an old companion.
He wondered if this was what having a home was like- what having a mom was like.
He'd just... keep that to himself for now.