I'm back! Sorry it took so long. I thought the quarantine would make it easier to write more frequently, but with school and work and everything going online, my schedule has been more hectic than I was expecting. Anyway, fingers crossed that things can get into a more regular rhythm now :)
Also, a HUGE thank you to everyone who has left reviews! It was really spectacular to hear your feedback, and I appreciate you all so much.
By the time lunch rolled around on Sunday, Skye could barely contain the anticipation that was zipping through her veins. She wasn't the only one, either. Phil was practically a jittery mess, straightening the cushions on the couch over and over and checking and rechecking that everything was put away in its proper spot. Normally he wasn't such a stickler about cleaning up, but Skye guess he was just as nervous as she was, maybe more so. May was moving stiffly, and she had barely said a word since the morning. Skye could practically feel the stress radiating off of her. She wondered if Phil and May had been this out of sorts before they came to St. Agnes to pick Jemma up.
"Still no word from the delivery company," May said tersely, checking her phone for the millionth time.
"We'll make it work," Phil comforted her, although Skye noticed that his gentle tone didn't match the anxious way his eyes darted around the living room. "The couch in the den pulls out, it's not so bad to sleep on, at least for a night or two."
"What a way to welcome her," May muttered. "We're glad you're in our home, come sleep on the couch." Skye had never heard May sound so bitter and sarcastic before. She glanced over at Jemma, who looked just as surprised as she felt. Phil must have noticed too, because he placed a calming hand on May's arm and gave her a warning look.
"It's really going to be okay, honey." May took a deep breath, and her face softened somewhat. She nodded and gave Phil's hand a grateful pat.
"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm just nervous."
"Me too," Phil said. "Maybe we should do something to take our minds off of things until she and Victoria get here."
"Board game?" Skye suggested. Phil had dug out the few games he and May kept in a closet the other night, and Skye had found them surprisingly entertaining. There were a couple games at St. Agnes, but none of them had all the pieces, and most of the kids cheated, so it was never much fun to play. Here, though, she found she actually liked playing them. Well, except for Monopoly. That game was incapable of ever being fun, as far as Skye was concerned.
They spent the next half hour fully engaged in a riveting game of Clue, which May won handily.
"You have to admit that the professional detective probably has a bit of an advantage," Phil pointed out as they gathered up the pieces and replaced them in the box.
"Hey, you were really close, Jemma," Skye said, glancing at Jemma's clue sheet as she collected the loose papers.
"I had the answer figured out, but I couldn't get back to the right room quickly enough," said Jemma. She looked conflicted between being proud for deducing the answer and being sad for losing the game.
"I always hate when that happens," May told her sympathetically. A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she leaned over to Jemma with a fake whisper. "That's usually the only way Phil can ever beat me." Jemma giggled at the put-out expression on Phil's face, but he didn't deny it. Just as Skye slid the lid back onto the box, the doorbell rang. Everyone froze for a second, before May gave herself a shake and got up to answer the door.
"I guess they're here," Phil said, straightening his tie. He picked up the game box like he was going to take it back to the closet, then thought better of it and set it back down on the coffee table where it had been sitting. He looked more flustered than Skye had ever seen him. Without thinking, she reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, just like she would do for Jemma. He looked surprised at the gesture for a split second before his eyes crinkled into a grateful smile. He squeezed back.
"Thanks Skye. Is it that obvious?"
"A little," she told him, offering her own smile. She wasn't sure what had made her do it. She had never voluntarily touched a foster parent, especially a foster dad, like that before, but something about it had felt right in the moment. The look on Phil's face made her glad she had.
"Everyone's just through here," came May's voice, and suddenly she was walking into the room, Miss Hand and the new girl trailing behind her. She was tall, taller than May by several inches, and she looked lean and athletic, even as she wobbled into the room on a pair of crutches. She had wavy blonde hair that cascaded down past her shoulders and big, blue eyes. Skye recognized the look in them as one she had worn many times before – a nervous, suspicious look that tried to project a cool confidence that didn't really exist. She was wearing a t-shirt, so Skye could see mottled, half-healed bruises patterning both of her arms, and the shadow of a sizable bruise on her jaw as well, plus a chunky orthopedic brace that encased her right knee. The girl was trying to look stoic and capable, but she was struggling with the crutches. Whether that came from not knowing how to use them or from fractured ribs, Skye couldn't tell.
"Come in, have a seat," May invited, gesturing to the sofa and chairs in the living room. "Can I get either of you anything?" The girl didn't make a move, and Miss Hand shook her head as she settled herself in the same chair she had sat in when she had come to talk about Jemma and Skye.
"No, thanks, May," she said, all business as usual. Skye looked around awkwardly at everyone standing, and decided to plunk onto the couch, pulling Jemma with her. The movement seemed to snap Phil and May out of their trances as well, because they joined the girls on the couch a moment later.
"Would you like to sit, Bobbi?" May asked. The girl just shook her head and adjusted her grip on her crutches. It was Phil who finally broke the ice.
"Well, Bobbi, I'm Phil, and this is my wife Melinda, and Skye and Jemma. We're all really pleased to meet you." He flashed his glowing smile at Bobbi, and Skye saw something flicker in her eyes.
"Skye and Jemma are also foster children," Miss Hand explained. "I've worked with them for a number of years, and Phil and May recently decided to foster them. Things are going well?" She directed the question at the four on the couch. Neither May nor Phil answered, waiting instead for Skye and Jemma to give their input first. Skye hoped Bobbi knew how lucky she was to be in a home where the foster parents actually let you speak for yourself, rather than talking over you all the time.
"Things are good," she said, pumping her head up and down. "Phil and May are really nice, and school is okay, too."
"We like it here a lot," Jemma added. Skye noticed that her hands were both shoved between her legs and the seat of the couch in an attempt to keep from tapping. Skye felt a pang of sadness knowing that Jemma was probably forcing herself not to tap until she was able to get a read on the new girl. It was understandable. Plenty of Jemma's worst tormentors had been other kids, and there was no telling how Bobbi would react to Jemma's eccentricities. Still, it made Skye's chest hurt to think that Jemma was making such a concerted effort to hide herself.
"I'm glad to hear it," Miss Hand nodded. "And not surprised. May and Phil are some of the best."
"Don't make me blush, Vic," May chided, a playful smile twitching across her face. Miss Hand chuckled and made a shooing motion. It was still odd for Skye to see her social worker acting so… normal around May and Phil. She was still stern and business-like – Skye didn't think she'd ever drop that completely – but she joked around and chatted with Phil and May more than Skye had ever seen her with any other grownups.
"Well, I guess I'll get right to it," Miss Hand said, clearing her throat. "Bobbi was just released from the hospital, so I have all of her discharge paperwork here." She handed over a packet of papers to May. "There are instructions there for her recovery, the name of a physical therapist, everything you should need. Her medications are packed in one of these bags – the duffel maybe? Anyhow, she has them, and instructions for those are in the paperwork as well. Like I said on the phone yesterday, her file is pretty slim, but I brought a copy for you. School records and medical records are all in there. Bobbi, you'll be going to school while you stay here, and you'll be expected to follow all of May and Phil's rules. I gave you my number in the car, and you can call me anytime, but Phil and May are your guardians now, so you can also go to them if you need anything." Bobbi nodded, but didn't make eye contact with anyone in the room. Her fingers drummed against the grips of one of her crutches, but Skye wasn't sure if it was from boredom or nerves. She found their new foster sister fascinating, and much harder to read than expected. She was going to have to up her observational game if she wanted to pick up on Bobbi's thoughts and moods with any degree of accuracy.
"Do you have any questions, Bobbi?" Miss Hand asked.
After a long pause, Bobbi finally spoke. Her voice was a little croaky, like maybe she hadn't used it much recently, and her tone was flat. "Where do I sleep?"
"There's actually a little snag with that currently," May said. "We have a room ready for you, but the bed that we ordered for you hasn't been delivered yet. It should be here soon, but until then–"
"We have a pull-out couch in the den," Phil piped up, trying to sound upbeat. "We're sorry it's not the best of accommodations, but hopefully it will only be for a night or two. You're welcome to put your things in your room, if you want, or keep them with you in the den until the bed gets here."
"Den's fine," Bobbi said. After a beat, she seemed to realize how impolite she was sounding, and added an almost bashful "thanks."
"Skye, Jemma, why don't you two show Bobbi where the den is?" May said pointedly, and Skye knew that was a signal to leave the adults alone together so they could talk in private. She and Jemma nodded, though, and got up from the couch together.
"The den's this way," Skye told Bobbi, waving towards the back of the house. "Do you want help taking your stuff back?" Bobbi paused briefly, and Skye could practically see her wheels turning. Bobbi's eyes flicked over to Miss Hand, who offered a small, crisp nod.
"Okay, sure. Thanks," Bobbi said. She tried to lean over to pick up the duffel bag but teetered alarmingly on the crutches. As she steadied herself, Skye scooped up the bag and slung it over her shoulders.
"We got it," she said, grabbing one of the trash bags that Miss Hand had brought in, while Jemma gathered the other. There was an awkward beat, as everyone waited for someone else to make the first move. Skye felt her skin practically crawl at the uncomfortable tension that was still thick in the air. Unable to stand it anymore, she marched off towards the den, hoping to jumpstart some kind of progress.
She and Jemma led the way back to the den, which had been straightened up the night before. The couch was already pulled out into the bed form, and May had put on clean sheets that morning. Bobbi trailed behind them, each thump of the crutches propelling her forward one lurching step at a time.
"Is it hard to use the crutches?" Skye asked as she set Bobbi's things down on the floor next to the bed. She was never one to let silence linger for too long, and she thought maybe she could get the new girl to open up a little without the grownups around. She wanted to get an idea of who Bobbi was as soon as possible, to know if she was going to be okay or if she and Jemma needed to watch out for her while she stayed with them.
"I guess I'm not exactly making it look easy," Bobbi grumbled. She caught herself, and returned her tone to a more neutral level. "They're fine. I'm just not used to them. And I'm not fully healed. Besides my knee, I mean. So that makes it harder, too." Skye nodded sympathetically.
"So, I'm Skye, and this is Jemma," Skye said. "I know they already said that, but I didn't know if you knew which one of us was which." The corners of Bobbi's mouth twitched, which pleased Skye. It wasn't a real smile, but it was a good sign, at least.
"How long have you lived here?" Bobbi wanted to know. She inched over the bed and gingerly lowered herself onto the mattress with a grimace. Jemma watched intently, and Skye knew her doctorly instincts were itching to kick in. She probably had a million questions for Bobbi that she was either too polite or too afraid to ask. It was probably for the best, Skye reasoned. Bobbi was still very guarded, and a medical inquisition from Jemma would probably scare her off or turn her against them before she had even unpacked.
"Almost a week," Skye told her. Bobbi's eyebrows crept up her forehead. Apparently, it wasn't as long as she had expected. "But Jemma and I knew each other before. We both lived at St. Agnes together before May and Phil started fostering us."
"St. Agnes is…?"
"An orphanage. About thirty minutes from here."
"Oh." Bobbi looked uncomfortable, like she didn't know what to say. It was a look Skye had seen a lot over the years.
"I guess technically it's a group home, I don't think they really have orphanages anymore, but it's an old place, and the sign over it still says orphanage." She was rambling now, trying to fill the silence and trying to pull Bobbi back in. She didn't want their new foster sibling to turn them out already just because of stupid St. Agnes.
"Okay. Right."
"This is definitely the nicest house either one of us has ever been in, though," Skye said, barreling forward, desperately trying to force her way past the awkwardness that was creeping back in. "Right, Jemma?"
Jemma blanched a little, clearly not expecting Skye to pull her into the conversation, but she nodded and gave a tenuous smile. Bobbi watched them both with a slightly unnerving intensity, like she was taking in a life-or-death tennis match.
"How many houses have you been in?" she asked. Skye paused, trying to count. Jemma looked embarrassed beside her.
"I don't know, a bunch, I guess," Skye admitted. "I think this is my…eighth? No, ninth." Bobbi looked expectantly at Jemma, who flushed. Skye was certain Jemma knew exactly how many homes she had been in, but figured that Jemma wasn't ready to start talking to someone so new as Bobbi yet. Jemma had been doing so well with Phil and May and Fitz that Skye had nearly forgotten how clammed up Jemma usually was around people.
"Sorry, I don't like it when people ask me stupid questions, either," Bobbi said, sensing Jemma's reticence. She slouched over and glared down at her lap. "Just ignore me. I don't know what I'm saying." Skye was taken aback by the sudden shift in Bobbi's demeanor as she chastised herself. It was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly the teenager who had been trying to make small talk was sucked into a sullen shell.
"No, it's not…" Skye faltered, torn between wanting to reassure Bobbi that she hadn't done anything wrong and not wanting to speak for Jemma when she was standing right next to her.
"This is my sixth house," Jemma said, the words spilling out of her mouth. Skye swung her gaze back and forth between Jemma and Bobbi, both of whom were looking deeply uncomfortable. Skye felt the crawly feeling return as silence fell over the three of them yet again.
Finally, Bobbi spoke. "It must be hard, moving around so much all the time. I've only ever lived with my…" Something in her voice hitched and she faltered. "I just mean, I've never had to move before. I can't imagine what it would be like to do it so many times." Skye wasn't sure, but she thought there might have been a shade of consternation in the older girl's tone. Maybe Bobbi couldn't imagine what it was like to move around every few months, but Skye couldn't imagine what it would be like to live in the same place for 15 years and then have to leave all of the sudden. She figured she would be more than a little freaked out.
"It's not always bad," she said, trying to inject some confidence. "And you get used to it eventually. Sometimes you even get lucky and end up in a place like this." Bobbi nodded thoughtfully, but before anyone could say anything else, Phil's voice drifted back to them, calling them all back to the living room.
All three traipsed back to the front of the house, where Miss Hand was gathering her things to leave. She told everyone goodbye, and reminded them that they could call her with any questions or issues. Bobbi had clammed up again, and only offered Miss Hand a stiff half-smile that didn't reach her eyes as the social worker made her way to the door.
"We've got to get you and Izzy over here for dinner sometime soon," May called as she left. Miss Hand laughed and nodded. "I mean it, Vic," May said, laughing too. "I'll call you. Or Phil will. It's been too long." One more round of waving farewell was shared, and then Miss Hand was in her car and pulling away from the house. Skye would never have called Miss Hand a lively presence, but as soon as she was gone, the mood of the house became even more tense and uncomfortable, which Skye hadn't thought was possible.
"Well, did you get settled all right? I hope the den was okay…" May asked with uncertainty.
"It was good," Bobbi told her, rocking back and forth slightly on her crutches. It seemed to be an almost unconscious, idle movement, and Skye was pleasantly reminded of her own fidgeting. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who hadn't outgrown a wiggly habit.
"Are you sure you don't want to sit down?" Phil asked. "I'm sure it's not good on your injuries to be up on crutches all the time." Bobbi hesitated for a moment, before shrugging and hobbling over to the chair that Miss Hand had occupied earlier. She eased herself down with the same pained expression she had worn when she sat on the bed in the den, and Skye wondered just how much pain she was in. So far Bobbi hadn't given the impression of one who was likely to let on about much, and Skye suspected that she was probably hiding how much she hurt.
"We'd love to get to know you a little bit, Bobbi," Phil said, his warmest smile spreading wide. "What should we know about you?"
Bobbi scrunched her nose slightly and retrained her eyes on the carpet. Phil and May, not surprisingly, waited with patience. It was one of Skye's favorite things about the both of them. They never rushed anyone when it came to answering questions.
"Not much, I guess," Bobbi finally said. "I'm a sophomore. I play… played soccer. At my old school, I mean. Before my knee got messed up."
"You might still be able to play, if you wanted to," May said encouragingly. "Vic gave us the contact information to a physical therapist that the hospital recommended. They might be able to help get you healthy enough to play again." Bobbi didn't look up, but offered her tight half-smile again. Sensing that knee recovery was a touchy subject, May dropped the matter.
"What are some other things you like to do?" Phil asked, trying to change the subject. "Favorite food? Favorite movie?"
"I was in some clubs at school. French club, Spanish club. I like languages. We had a science club, too. We'd go on hikes and stuff, look for turtles and birds to try and classify them. That was pretty fun when I could go." Jemma perked up at the mention of a science club, and Skye had to bite back a giggle at the way Jemma's face lit up when Bobbi talked about classifying animals.
"We might have some clubs like that at the high school where I teach," Phil told her. "I don't know very much about science, but we have some great science teachers. The biology teacher, Ms. Diaz, is top-notch, and she always takes a group to the lake at the end of the year for an aquatic biology overnight. And I know we have French and Spanish clubs."
"And the AV club, of course," May added with a playful look towards Phil.
"How could I forget?" Phil's smile spread even wider, and he puffed up a little in his sit. Skye recognized the buzz of his excitement and felt herself smiling along with him in spite of herself. "It's more like an AV club-film club hybrid. I'm the advisor. Sometimes we do some work with cameras and video production, but it's really just an excuse to watch movies once a week during lunch, if I'm being honest. We're on a little bit of a sci-fi kick right now, and we're about halfway through Chopping Mall."
There was an empty pause, and Phil's face fell at the sight of the four blank expressions looking back at him. "Oh, come on, guys. Chopping Mall? It's a classic! Evil robots, 80's science…? Nothing?" He shook his head incredulously. "You're seriously missing out. This is definitely going on our family 'to watch' list. For the cultural experience if nothing else." He was chuckling now, and May joined him in laughter.
"Anyway, you don't have to join the AV club," she assured Bobbi. "I wouldn't blame you if Chopping Mall doesn't strike you as appealing." Skye watched as Bobbi squeezed the corners of her mouth outwards into an attempt at a smile that looked more like a pained grimace. There was a flicker of something in Bobbi's eyes that Skye recognized. She had seen the same look in Jemma's eyes more than once: a cornered, desperate look that Jemma usually only got when she was on the verge of losing it but was fighting to hold it together because she was too afraid of what the people around her would do if she didn't.
Just as quickly as it had come, the look vanished from Bobbi's eyes, and her face became a mask again. She tightened her grip on her crutches, giving them a sharp squeeze as she inhaled just as sharply. She looked up suddenly, and her expression rearranged itself yet again, this time into something softer and more pleasant. Skye was reminded again of a flipping switch.
"That might be okay," she said. "Watching movies at school doesn't sound too bad."
"My thinking exactly," nodded Phil. His smile never faltered, but Skye noticed he made pointed eye contact with May, who had been taking in the whole scene just as ardently as Skye.
"Well that's probably enough interrogation for now," May said, standing slowly and using a tone of voice that Skye had begun to recognize as one reserved for moving things along. "Bobbi, I'm sure you're tired after such an eventful day. Feel free to rest or watch TV or whatever seems good. We'll all just be catching up on some work around here, but please let me or Phil know if you need anything. One of us will probably check in on you in a little while, too, if that's okay."
Bobbi's shoulders slackened slightly, and she nodded. She hoisted herself back onto her feet and began crossing the room jerkily towards the den without a word.
"Skye, Jemma, I think you two have some homework to finish, correct?" May asked, turning back to the pair of girls still sitting on the couch. Skye scowled, but nodded along with Jemma and plodded over to the kitchen table without further complaint. Of all the unpleasant things to be forced to do on a Sunday afternoon, Skye thought, homework with Jemma wasn't really too bad.