Chapter 3

Stef knocked softly on the door of the upstairs hallway bathroom. "Jude?" she called.

"WHO IS IT?"

The fearful, panicked response left the cop baffled. Careful not to startle him, she had only raised her voice enough to be heard over the shower. "Darling, it's me, Stef. Is it alright if I come in for a sec? I've got some fresh towels with me." She had discovered Jude's damp towel, balled up and slightly mildewed, upon going into the den to collect his laundry. Luckily, there were some in the dryer that were still warm, which she thought he might like.

The eight-year-old hopped down from the counter where he was sitting. "OKAY! JUST A MINUTE!"

Stef frowned when bare soles slapped across the tile and began squeaking against the tub. It wasn't the first time she'd wondered if he truly showered when he was supposed to or just hung out in the bathroom with the water running. On a few occasions, he had been oddly dry coming out from his shower, and when she'd gone in to wipe up, the bar of Ivory was untouched.

Once she received the okay to enter, she went in and hung the towels on the rack. "There's two here. One for your body and the smaller one for your face." She bit her lip, deliberating if she should say something about not being able to hear him washing. The spray of water was static, proof that he was just standing there rather than working to get clean. It was somewhat of a problem that their eight-year-old wasn't bathing properly and she added that to her mental list of things they'd have to support him with. Callie, too, didn't seem to be faring much better.

His shrill thank you drifting from the other side of the curtain pulled her out of her thoughts—and endeared himself to her in the process. He was so polite.

"You're welcome, bud. Want me to hand you your things?" she asked, noticing his loofah and washcloth on the counter.

"No, thank you." Inside, Jude poked at a grippy tub sticker with his toe. He was standing at the far end so water wouldn't pummel his face and hair, but it still hurt his skin and was too loud. He wanted her to leave so he could get out.

Immediately, Stef regretted not giving more of a directive. She would let it go this time. "Okay...don't forget to wash your whole body! That means soap behind your ears, neck, and armpits. Behind your knees, and bum too." Deciding to cue him anyway, even though she worried about coming across as intrusive.

"Okay!" he replied cheerfully.

"Okay…" Stef echoed, wary about leaving. His assurance did little to evoke any confidence in her and she wished she could assist him in doing a thorough job so he could be more comfortable. But they weren't there yet, in terms of trust. "Ma—Lena and I will be downstairs. We can give you a hand when you're done."

It was hard not to refer to themselves as Mom and Mama. They'd made it clear that Callie and Jude could call them whatever they were comfortable with, irrespective of what their other children called them. First names were fair game.

"Yes ma'am," Jude replied.

Stef cringed at being called something that made her sound ancient. Resigned that she needed to allow Jude to finish up on his own, she picked up his laundry and reminded him they'd see him soon.

In the hallway, she checked his sweatpants for the lighter. She wasn't sure Jude would still have it after handing it to Callie...but given how protective he had seemed, she thought there was a chance he would have begged to hold onto it.

Fingers closing around what she was looking for, she slipped it into her pocket. She didn't feel great about the breach of privacy, but there was no reason for either of them to have something like that in their possession. It was one of two things she and Lena would be talking to Jude about shortly. The other, of course, was Callie's birthday.

The women were in the middle of straightening the sleeping bag on the fold out cot when Jude came in, towel wrapped haphazardly around his midsection and teeth chattering.

Realizing he was only in his underwear, Lena hurried to grab the pyjamas she had laid out. The thermostat had just kicked on so it'd be awhile before the den warmed up. "Here. May I?" she asked, asking for permission to take the towel. Permission granted, she quickly rubbed his upper body dry before wrapping the terry cloth around his waist and slipping the top over his head.

Jude smiled widely as warmth hugged him. "That feels good and smells nice." Like his towel, his shirt had just come from the dryer. He could tell because it was extra soft.

"I bet it does feel nice and toasty," Lena agreed, kneeling to help him step into his bottoms. She had waited until the very last minute to take them out, hoping the coziness would get him drowsy for the night.

"Was there enough hot water left?"

"Mhm, lots!" Jude liked that his new foster moms were nice and cared if his shower was warm enough. They didn't even put laundry on or run the dishwasher until everyone had had their turn so no one would be stuck with cold water.

"Great! Guess we figured out a good system!"

Both women were surprised when the child handed her the towel again and bowed at the waist, allowing her to dry his hair. A measure of trust neither had expected.

Perching on the edge of the cot, Lena got to work. Right away, she noticed that his hair hadn't been thoroughly washed. On the surface it appeared wet, but upon closer inspection, water droplets were beading onto the surface. Dealing with the oiliness would require more than a rinse but a good shampoo, conditioner, and combing. Lifting the top section revealed hair that was dry and a very irritated-looking scalp.

He needed assistance. Badly.

While Jude was upstairs, she and Stef had discussed their concerns over his hygiene and ways they could ensure shower steps were being completed. Between them, they agreed the situation was one where needs dictated more overt invasions of privacy, akin to their presence at doctor's visits. They weren't sure if he would be amenable to it, though.

Stef, wanting to soak up every second of their interaction, came to sit by them. Her wife took the opportunity to part a section of hair so she could take a look; one glance at the dandruff and yellow crusting she was being shown had her wincing. "Hey, bud? Your head ever get itchy?" she asked casually.

Not sure why his foster mother was bringing that up, it was a while before Jude responded. "Sometimes a little."

"Okay. I was asking because your scalp is a bit dry," Stef said, making out scabs that were presumably from scratching. Hopefully it wasn't lice but even if it was they already had the medicated shampoo. "I think we better work on getting a really good hair wash in—get your skin healthy so it's more comfortable for you."

Lena gathered Jude's hands in her own when he peered at her nervously. "It will feel a lot better, I promise, honey," she reiterated, knowing he needed reassurance. He was still reserved around Stef, and quite possibly afraid of her.

To their surprise and relief, the boy relented.

Watching Jude sweep hair out of his eyes, Stef had another idea. "It might also help to trim your hair. It's getting pretty long. Let me know if that's something you'd like," she offered. She was pretty efficient at doing B and Jesus' cuts with the clippers and it wouldn't take much longer to do Jude's as well.

Jude shrank at her suggestion. It'd been awhile since his last one but they were always unpleasant enough that he didn't want them to happen. A few times, he'd been nicked by scissors. "No…no, thank you...thank you anyway," he politely declined. He was hoping that wouldn't make them mad before it hit him that he'd assumed he even had a choice. "But you can if you want to!"

The women exchanged a concerned expression over the sudden contrast between the two responses. With Jude's obvious discomfort with the idea, they had no intention of pushing him into it.

"We'd never make you do something with your hair you didn't want to. Never ever," Stef affirmed. "It's your body and you have a lot of choice and control over what you'd like to do and what happens. The main thing you need to do is show us you're able to take care of it."

Lena jumped in, grateful for the teachable moment. "That means washing and combing regularly to keep tangles under control. Using conditioner." He hung his head at the expectant look she gave him—well aware he wasn't meeting that criteria. "We can find shampoo you like, and can give you a hand," she suggested, brushing his hair back. "Sound fair?"

"Fair," Jude readily agreed, his interest piqued by the idea of choosing shampoo scents.

Remembering why they'd wanted to speak with him in the first place, Stef tapped him on the arm to get his focus. "You know what? Before I forget, I took something of yours when I picked up your laundry." She held the lighter up, owning up to its confiscation fairly quickly since nothing about it was up for debate. "We're not sure how you ended up with this but we're not comfortable with any of our kids having one so it'll stay with us for safekeeping. Alright? You can ask for it if and when you need it and we can talk about for what and why," she said, giving the illusion of choice where there was none. "I didn't want you to go looking for it and worry when you couldn't find it."

She had expected excuses, but not for her foster son to go ashen.

"Jude? Hey...hey…" she said, keeping her voice soft. He was visibly afraid and had his hands wrung together, gaze flicking between her and Lena.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break the rules," Jude said regretfully. A chill went down his spine as he figured he'd be punished and he braced himself. At the last house, whenever he did something wrong they'd make him choose between the spoon or a belt to get a spanking with, and both hurt equally badly. Instinctively, he took a step back from the women, tripping over his feet in the process.

Acting fast, Lena grabbed him before he fell. "It's not a big deal. You didn't know," Stef reassured. Sure they'd been shocked to say the least and weren't fond of what he and his sister had in their possession but they hadn't been too upset. Either no one before them had found out—or if they had, hadn't bothered to do anything about it. What was important was the kids no longer had it.

The mothers shared another worried look with each other; Jude was near tears, convinced he was in more trouble than he actually was.

The words had little effect on Jude's distress. He did know kids weren't supposed to have lighters. The whole reason Callie had one was because she smoked. She thought he had no idea but he'd seen her. As for him, he just liked carrying one because it made him feel kinda big. That was what Callie always said when he asked to hold onto it.

"Listen to me. You're fine. You're not in any trouble," Stef said, shaking her head for emphasis. Guessing that facing both of them was exacerbating Jude's anxiety, she patted the space beside her on the cot before getting up and out of the way. He'd warmed up to Lena more than he had with her and she wanted them to sit together, thinking that might put him at ease. Trying to show she wasn't a threat, Stef sat on the floor across from them so she could still be present. Still, she saw him stiffen as she went by him.

Grateful when Jude sidled up next to her, Lena wrapped an arm around him. He was still cautious around them but spending time together had already made a difference. "We know you weren't playing with fire."

Stef nodded as she settled cross legged on the carpet. "You did a kind thing for Callie today. A very kind thing. She's lucky to have such a thoughtful little brother like you." She chuckled when he stared at her, mouth agape, before they explained that they'd spotted him and his sister from the kitchen.

Noticing how uncertain the boy seemed, Lena offered the stuffed dog they had bought for him. Jude hugged it tight. "I wish you had told us about Callie's birthday. I would have made a cake, or arranged to have one ready at the store so we could have celebrated together."

"I didn't want to bother you… you're busy," Jude replied matter of factly. "It's always just us anyway."

"You wouldn't have bothered us at all. Everyone's birthday is special. It's important we recognize and share each other's big days." A lump formed in her throat at the reminder of the milestone she and Stef had missed.

Beginning to feel awkward, Jude dropped his gaze. Lena didn't sound mad or even annoyed but she did look sad. "It's not a big deal." He chewed on his inner cheek, afraid he was messing everything up. Callie had told him not to be high maintenance so there'd be a better chance that Stef and Lena would want him.

"It is a big deal, bud! This one especially! Your sister turned thirteen! She's officially a teenager!" Stef butted in, smiling as Jude brightened at her excitement.

His assumption that he would've bothered them made her sad, but what got to her the most was imagining how Callie might have felt when her birthday came and went without a single acknowledgement from them. She couldn't decide what was worse: Callie feeling let down because she had hope someone other than Jude would notice, only to be disappointed again, or resigned to the fact because she was used to birthdays going unacknowledged.

"Did you and Callie have many birthday parties growing up?" The bulk of Jude's childhood had been in foster care. He had only been a preschooler when he and Callie had entered the system and wouldn't have many memories before then. It was an indignation that the question even needed asking. But the sad reality was that nothing could be assumed when it came to foster care.

"Our Mom did…" Jude whispered. He'd been too little to remember, but he remembered photos and luckily, Callie was always good about telling him about them. Comforted by the toy in his lap, he stroked the dog's floppy ear. "Then after, it was just me and Callie," he continued, his tone giving the impression this was normal. Slightly more comfortable, he was willing to talk. "Except when she was in juvie. But me and Bill got her a card and they did one for me, too. And we got to visit." That was all that had mattered to him, seeing her and knowing she was still there. "Foster parents have enough to do with their real kids."

Stef frowned at his observation. "Being fostered doesn't make you or Callie any less than kids who aren't. Not in this home." She was appalled that they had implied as much by losing track of Callie's birthday.

"Do you think you might be able to let Stef or I know if anything happens that makes you feel that way? Like you're less important than Jesus or Mariana or Brandon?" Lena asked. It was a big ask, one that she wasn't sure he would take her up on, but would put out there anyway. The boy shrugged, giving the impression he didn't quite believe what they were telling him.

Leaning forward, Stef stuck out her hand. "Shake on it?" She feigned not noticing when he jumped at the unexpected motion, expecting to be hit. Deciding there was no threat, he mumbled an apology and reciprocated.

"Now, how should we make this up to Callie?" Lena asked, shifting so she could face him. She hadn't missed his reaction but her intention was to move him away from his discomfort to end their interaction on a positive note. "Think she'll be alright with cake and a present?" If it were their other kids they wouldn't have to ask but it was different with Callie and Jude. The last thing they wanted was to make Callie uncomfortable. "Would she like that?"

"She likes cake but I dunno 'bout a present," Jude said cautiously.

"Nonsense! Everyone deserves something for their birthday!" Stef insisted before regretting her words. That didn't speak to Callie and Jude's experiences of not being treated like 'everyone.' They didn't need to be reminded of it.

Jude shook his head, figuring out how to explain. "No, but...we can't bring stuff with us when we go." Most of it stayed behind.

Realizing their foster son was already preparing to leave them and the logistics around that, Stef fell silent as tears pricked her eyes.

"They make you throw it away," Jude continued. "And if you don't, they wait til you're at school to do it and then you don't get a say." He was all too familiar with foster parents going through their belongings and garbage, and paying for it when they found things they didn't like. A snack wrapper. A drawing. A note.

"Did that happen often?" Stef questioned. Perhaps wondering if he should be talking to her, he regarded her dubiously before bobbing his head once.

Throat like cotton, she smiled tightly at Lena. Her wife looked just as crushed as she was by what he'd shared. They were aware of the limits in how much kids were allowed to bring with them to a placement—usually one backpack and a garbage bag—but they couldn't fathom making children discard their things.

"Listen to me. Something like that would never happen here. Ever." She pulled the lighter out from her pocket again to illustrate her point. "There might be times when Lena and I go looking for something but there will always be a reason for it and we will tell you about it."

"Okay."

"So, is it okay with you for Lena and I to get your sister something? It won't be very big so she can bring it with her if she had to move." She felt terrible for even suggesting the possibility. Despite Jude not having his full trust in them, he had some. That he was confiding in them was hopeful and she didn't want to blow it.

"Yes," Jude said, thinking it over. He had a feeling things could be different here.

Stef winked at him. "Wonderful! We'll need your input, of course." Thankfully, Callie's actual birthday had only been two days ago. Not ideal by any means but hopefully forgivable. "What's Callie's favourite type of cake? Vanilla?"

Scandalized, he looked to Lena. She knew because she was there when he picked the cupcake. "Chocolate," he whispered to her and her only.

"Ohh… And what about ice cream?" Stef asked, feigning cluelessness.

This time, he made eye contact with her. "Everything!"

"Everything as in any flavour? Or like Neapolitan everything?"

"Everything everything!" He beamed at her, sending her heart into flutter. More and more Stef found herself imagining what it would be like to have him and Callie as their own. Being all under one roof, she did consider them her own...but the idea of permanence had been tugging at her heart since Lena had brought it up that afternoon. All the more so because she already felt so connected to the boy.

"What do you think? Chocolate ice cream cake?" she said, turning to Lena.

Jude squealed his glee as they hushed him. "Shh! It's going to be a surprise and your sister is in the living room," Lena reminded, amused at his giddiness and grateful for the resilience at his age.

"It's gonna be a surprise," Jude repeated seriously. Callie was gonna be so surprised!

The plans quickly came together. It was established the party would take place the next day. That would give them enough time to get the rest of the kids involved and her gift sorted. By Jude's account, Callie liked drawing and reading, basketball, and hip hop music. Her favorite colours were dark purple and navy blue, and she liked eating Cheez Whiz, Nutella, and Dunk-a-Roos. There would be some running around but it'd be fairly straightforward. Once satisfied they had enough to go on, they tucked him in with reminders of where the downstairs bathroom was. That they'd leave the hallway light on as a nightlight for him and Callie. That he needed to try and stay in his bed, they'd check on him soon, and were just up the stairs if he needed them for anything.

As they were about to leave, he sat bolt upright. Lena was part way through asking what was wrong when he beat her to it. "Thank you for being nice to me and my sister."

Proud of him for initiating conversation, Stef extended her hand a second time. Jude reached out without a second thought. "Thanks for all your help, mister," she said, revelling at the first signs of trust and rapport that had been established. She gave him a kind smile as Lena got him to lie back down and fixed his blanket, pulling it up to his chin. Tucked in with the dog right beside him on the pillow, he looked so small, and she caught herself pulling from her memory of eight-year-old Jesus—wondering if he had also been this tiny—and if so, in awe of how much growing her ten-year-old boy had done since then.

"I'm good because I help," Jude said proudly.

Patting his chest through the layers of warmth Stef chuckled. "No. You're good because you're good," she affirmed. "You're all good."

She had a feeling he needed to hear it. Callie probably too.

"Now. To sleep with you."

Sleep, because she and Lena had a lot to do.

Lena handed the iPad to her wife, who was sitting next to her in bed. "What about this one?"

They had several tasks to accomplish if they were going to throw a party the next evening, one of that being Callie's present, and had gotten straight to work. It meant a later night than usual but they didn't mind. Turning thirteen was a rite of passage, and Callie deserved to have people cheering her on as she entered this new stage in her life.

Birthday traditions were held in high regard in their family. Whoever was turning a year older got to set the menu for dinner, and there was cake followed by cards and presents. As much as they wanted to surprise Callie together with all the other kids, things would have to be toned down to avoid overwhelming her. In the end, they decided to give her her present in private. The kids could handle the card at dinner.

Stef scanned the description on the book Lena had found. The Care and Keeping of You 2: The Body Book for Older Girls. "Is this the sequel to the one we got for Mariana? You're thinking this to go in the bag?" The present itself was proving to require some coordination. They had decided on a new backpack, filling it with items Callie might like and necessities for a teenage girl mixed in. But with the bag being of finite size, it was difficult deciding what would make it in.

"Well. One of them," Lena said. "It's small, and would go well with some of the other things."

"I don't know, babe...I'm not sure about making gifts out of what we should be getting her whether or not it's her birthday." She thought of the shampoo, deodorant, and the feminine hygiene products they'd discussed—and how not excited she would've been to receive those as gifts. "We need more that's exciting for her and less, happy-birthday-here's-a-reminder-your-body-is-going-to-change-and-things-will-get-incredibly-awkward."

"I agree but she does need those other things as well," Lena pointed out. It was difficult to reconcile between wants and necessities, while also being mindful of picking stuff that was easy to transport or consumable so that wouldn't be an issue. "Maybe we can think of this more like a comfort kit? Books...a small stuffed animal...notebook...her own basketball? Lip balm and nail polish? A t-shirt?" Lena trailed off; it was hard to put together a gift for someone they didn't know very well, even with ideas.

Stef quirked an eyebrow. "Callie does not seem to be the type to do anything with her nails. That would make this more of a present for Mariana, don't you think?" Callie was tomboyish, and seemed less preoccupied with her appearance. "A basketball would be a sweet idea but we've got a bunch already between B and Zeus, and it's too big for her backpack. But the tee is a good idea; everyone likes those. And she might appreciate a stuffed animal and notebook."

"Fine. I'd like her to have the same bodywash set we got for Mariana, though," Lena countered. It was an all-in-one that she hoped would make the bath routine easier for Callie.

Stef nodded. The 3-in-1 soap has been a hit with their younger daughter. "Yeah, I think we will need to throw in some personal care stuff," she conceded, realizing they didn't even know if Callie had started her period yet. She looked like a late bloomer, especially considering the malnutrition. "Perhaps the Care and Keeping book is a good idea, after all."

Pausing to think. "I'd love for her to have a copy of The Hunger Games or Narnia or something like that. She reads a lot. I swear that kid has gone through at least three books since she got here. Maybe throw in some snacks? Granola bars. And a gift card to the movies or the Golden Arches—ohhh! Cheez Whiz!" she exclaimed, remembering their conversation with Jude.

"No Cheez Whiz."

"Aww, c'mon!" Stef pleaded, flashing doe eyes. "Oh, fiiine," she acquiesced when her wife shot her a look that dared her to ask one more time. Lena was not going to budge.

Lena rolled her eyes in amusement. Stef had a tendency to take things too far with presents. "Do you have a budget in mind? The backpack is $28. Add in another $20-30 for the books. Then the rest of it?"

"Budget?!" Stef protested, incredulous. "Budget sh'mudget. This kid just had her big birthday missed because of us! Everything else is mostly groceries, or out of the personal care budget." Seeing how unimpressed Lena was she clarified that the t-shirts were out of the kids' clothing fund. "The only things that are really gifts are the books and the backpack. And those are educational," she concluded.

Her rationale for overspending—as well as how pleased her wife looked with herself—left Lena cracking up. Stef was out of control. Despite her pragmatism towards adopting them, Stef was getting attached to these kids. She could already predict what their dynamic would be like, with Callie and Jude worming their way into Stef's heart whether or not Stef would admit to it. "One tee, and if you're going to go with the gift card, no snacks," Lena said, dissolving into laughter as her wife's face fell.

"But Lena...Lena…". Her wife would have none of it.

"Babe."

"Party pooper," Stef pouted. "Fine, no gift card." It would be more fun to stuff Callie's bag with a variety of snacks anyways.

"Just trying to be clear." Stef was already fiddling on the iPad to confirm the books were in stock. "Keep in mind what Jude said: nothing too large and not a lot because they won't be able to take it with them when they move. That's why we were thinking consumables in the first place." She didn't want Callie to be in that position again.

"Stef?" she repeated when her wife stared intensely at the screen without a word. "I'm serious. I don't want Callie having to choose between what can be kept and what needs to be left behind." Concerned when no response came, she went to tap her wife on the arm when she noticed eyes glistening and a lower lip tucked firmly in between teeth.

Self-conscious, Stef fought to keep her composure intact.

She failed when a sob escaped as she spoke.

"Well...Lena…who said anything about them moving?"

Author Note:

Thanks for reading and for your encouragement, everyone! It's a bit daunting starting fresh. ~b