It was incredible to her how little Andrew had changed over the years. He was a little older, a little more care-worn, but that was true of all of them – Andrew, Phil, and Melinda herself certainly. But his eyes were the same, deep and dark and patient, and he still had that smile that made you feel like he was inviting you to share in a warm secret with him. It was things like that made him so easy to talk to, so easy to trust, such a good friend. He had been one of her biggest sounding boards back when they were young and she was hardheaded and in need of a little softening. She had other friends, of course, ones who were fun to be around, ones who challenged her and helped her push herself, but she had forgotten how well Andrew, Phil, and herself all complimented each other – the thinker, the feeler, and the doer. She chided herself for letting the years get the better of them, for letting her friendship with Andrew slip into the territory of 'fond memory.' Luckily, it seemed as though life had thrown her a second chance to bring the man she'd once considered her best friend back into their lives.

"Well," Andrew said cheerily, as they settled themselves back into chairs in his office, "I'll start by saying you two have got some really great kids out there."

"We certainly think so," Phil beamed. "I don't think either one of us could have predicted where we are now, but we wouldn't go back to the way things were for the world." May smiled and took his hand, gave it a light squeeze. Not surprisingly, he had managed to capture her feelings just right. He was always so good with words.

"I'm also really honored that you trusted me with them," Andrew continued. "It can't be easy to be new parents, especially to kids who already come with unique backgrounds and experiences. I'm excited to continue working with each of them, if that's something you and your family decides you'd like to pursue further."

"No complaints so far," said May kindly.

"I like to speak with the parents separately at the end of a session, just to get a sense of where you are and how you're feeling about the process. Also to give you a few of my observations, since we're still in the early stages of everything," Andrew explained. "You're of course welcome to share what we discuss with the girls, although it's unlikely that I'll tell you anything I won't be saying to the girls in person at some point. I'm not fond of saying one thing to a patient and then something else entirely to the parent. The pacing is really all that changes."

"That sounds good," nodded Phil. "We're pretty new to all of this, so we're happy to take your lead."

"Since I met her first, I'll start with Skye," Andrew said, chuckling. "She's quite the firecracker, isn't she?"

May cracked a smile. "Very much so. I know she was nervous to come today, so that may have had something to do with the way she was acting."

"Which is totally reasonable," Andrew assured them. "I know most kids aren't banging on the door to get into my office, especially if they've been sent by a school or had history quite like Skye's. I saw the records from her previous attempts at therapy that her social worker sent over. I was honestly expecting a little more hostility from her, given how quick to condemn her previous doctors had been."

"She's a good kid," Phil said. "Really good. Just misunderstood. And sometimes a little too impulsive for her own good."

"And I'd like to help with that," Andrew smiled. "Both the impulsivity and being misunderstood. I suspect that the two might go hand in hand, as a matter of fact."

"How do you mean?" May asked.

"Well, having only known Skye an hour, this is still an educated guess, but I would wager that a lot of people – a lot of adults, in particular – have a hard time understanding her impulsivity, her energy, her outbursts. Most adults have learned to curb that kind of behavior in themselves, and they forget how immediate and how intense everything feels when you're Skye's age. So they misunderstand her, which makes her feel isolated and upset. Then, because she's experiencing these intense feelings and doesn't have a sense of connection to anyone who can help her process or cool down, she acts impulsively again, trying to make things right or seek out a connection that she's missing. It's a cycle that leads to people like her teachers or her previous doctors labeling her as defiant or in need of strong discipline, which I personally don't believe is doing her much good. It's a common thing I see in my patients with ADHD."

"So you think Skye has ADHD?" Phil wanted to know.

"I hesitate to make an official diagnosis after only one session, but based on the notes I got from Polly over the school, the observation forms I had you fill out for me ahead of time, and the brief time I spent with Skye today, I'd say it's a strong possibility. The assessment I had her take today will give me a pretty good baseline to continue to assess from, and just looking briefly at the numbers I pulled from that, a lot of the key indicators are there," Andrew explained. "Difficulty with focus, particularly on tasks that aren't of interest seems to be a challenge, managing distractions, emotional regulation and thinking ahead to the consequences before beginning an action – all of those are things that are common points of struggle for people with ADHD, and, from what I've gathered, common points of struggle for Skye. That's not to say that she can't do any of those things, of course, just that it takes a lot more effort and energy on her part to perform them at the same level as someone who doesn't have ADHD."

"So what can we do to help her?" asked May. "We know she wants to do well in school and to be more levelheaded – she's basically told us as much. And she tries so hard to be this version of a perfect kid that she thinks people – us, maybe – want her to be, even though we've tried to send the message that she doesn't have to be anything other than herself. She just beats herself up so much when things get hard."

"Keep sending that message," Andrew smiled. "That's the most important thing. It'll take some time to sink in, I'm sure, but the number one thing you can do is keep reassuring her, keep showing her that you care and that you don't think less of her because she's not performing at the same level as her peers. Find things that are unique to her that you can compliment and encourage, especially things that aren't directly related to school. Show her you're paying attention and you like what you see."

Andrew continued: "I think you can also get the ball rolling with some accommodations at school. I know I said I'm not personally comfortable making a diagnosis after one meeting, but I am happy to sign off on whatever school forms you might need. I know that red tape can take a long time to cut through, so I'm happy to help speed that process up. If it turns out later that we decide a different diagnosis suits her better, we can change the recommendations, but for now, I think we should start somewhere with the school. At home you can break tasks into smaller pieces that are easier to process and accomplish, so that there isn't the pressure of doing a whole large task all at once. That can help with focus, too. Keep helping her practice processing her feelings, in whatever way works for her. Some kids like to process auditorily, so talking things through helps, but others like to write things down or draw out diagrams. Whatever will help her slow down, identify her emotions, and really think through the steps of her thought process."

"We can do that," Phil nodded. He had pulled out a tiny notebook that May didn't realize he brought with him, and he was taking diligent notes on Andrew's suggestions. She smiled. Leave it to Phil to remember a notebook for this.

"There are lots of other things we can try, too, but I think we'll just start with those few for now," Andrew said gently. "Eventually we might reach a point where we talk about the possibility of medication, but I'd prefer to wait for a true diagnosis before we have that conversation. It's perfectly safe, and plenty of people find it helps a lot, but there are also plenty of families who prefer not to medicate if some of the other strategies are sufficient."

"There's the dyslexia piece, too," May added after a beat. "Are we still waiting for more assessment to diagnose that as well?"

"No," Andrew said. "That I think we can diagnose today. Polly's assessment did most of the leg work on that one, my assessment was really just more of a formality. Skye is dyslexic, I'm confident in saying that. I'll send those forms to the school today as well, see if we can't start getting her some more support in that department."

"Polly mentioned having extra time on tests, or having someone read the test questions out loud for Skye," Phil said.

"I think those are some good places to start. I'm sure Polly will want to continue to monitor and assess Skye in that area, and she may recommend some work with a reading specialist to help get Skye caught up and more confident. I'll leave that piece to her, as the educator. But I think the option to hear, rather than read, will be a big help. You noticed, I'm sure," Andrew said, turning to May, "how quickly she jumped at the chance to have the computer read out the questions earlier today." May nodded.

"She always seems to do better on her homework when she's got someone to do it with," she remarked. "Phil or Jemma, or her tutor, Natasha. Someone to talk things through and help her stay on track."

"And those are the kinds of observations that will be helpful to continue to make," Andrew said. "The more we can continue to learn about Skye and what works best for her, the better we can help her navigate the world."

"And the same holds true for Jemma and Bobbi, too, I'd imagine," Phil pointed out.

Andrew nodded. "Yes, exactly. That's something that will be a little bit different for the two of you compared to some other families I work with. You're still getting to know your children, learning about them. But you're putting in the work, and that's a crucial piece."

"So, on the subject of Jemma," May began. "Polly seemed to think it might be worth looking into whether or not Jemma might be autistic. Phil and I just want to do what's best for her either way."

"Yes, Jemma," Andrew smiled. "Well, I'll start by saying that it's clear she's very bright—"

"One of the smartest kids I've ever met," Phil grinned proudly.

"—And it was also clear that being here made her extremely uncomfortable," finished Andrew. "I'm assuming nerves were a part of that."

"Most likely," May said. "Meeting new people is something we've learned is hard for Jemma. She gets very nervous around strangers, or in new situations in general. And I know she's had some bad experiences with therapy before."

"I wondered about that," Andrew said sadly. "Some of the notes from previous doctors weren't exactly encouraging. They spoke about her resistance to some of the behavioral therapy methods they were trying to employ with her. For the record, I'm not a proponent of techniques that try to teach children to act in certain ways that, while socially acceptable, might be antithetical to how they work best or might be detrimental to their personal growth and well-being. I know I'll need to earn Jemma's trust, but I wanted to make that clear with the two of you up front. My priority is helping Jemma adapt the things that already work for her to be more effective and to help her feel like she has more agency in how she relates to the world."

"That sounds great," Phil agreed. "We're not looking to change Jemma. We like her just the way she is, absolutely. Really we just want to know if there's anything we should be doing to help make her life easier that we've missed before."

"Well, as with Skye, I won't commit to a diagnosis after only one meeting," Andrew started. "But again, my initial impression is that Polly's suggestion is more than likely correct. A lot of Jemma's behavior could certainly be attributed to nerves or anxiety, but there were certain things that caught my attention. Avoiding eye contact, tapping as a form of stimming or self-soothing, strict adherence to routine, her encyclopedic knowledge of certain subjects that are of interest to her. All of those are pretty standard markers that we look for when starting to seek an ASD diagnosis. It's a spectrum, of course, so what's typical autistic behavior for one child might not appear at all in another, but those are some common ones. Her way of relating to the world through the lens of something she's knowledgeable about and comfortable with, that struck me as a unique indicator. Oftentimes autistic people will have difficultly naming or describing the emotions they're experiencing – alexithymia it's called – and it seemed to me that Jemma had a much easier time describing her feelings of worry or unease in terms of stars rather than plain emotions."

"She talked to us about gravity one time," May remembered. "It was after we had been to see Polly, and everyone was a little on edge. And she used gravity to explain how she and Skye felt."

"It took us a little while at first to get a grasp of it," Phil added, "but once we got a feel for the way Jemma uses language, most of the time what she's communicating to us is pretty clear."

"And that's one of the biggest things we can aim for," said Andrew, pleased. "Finding ways for Jemma to be understood on her own terms. Every person wants to be understood. We're just all usually communicating in different ways. Some people speak directly, others use figures of speech. Some use art or movement. It's all about finding ways to translate from person to person, and it sounds like you two have already made some good headway in that department."

"Is there anything else we should be doing for Jemma right now?" Phil asked. "Anything we should get for her? I had an autistic student a few years back who wore noise-cancelling headphones a lot of the time, but Jemma hasn't really indicated that loud noises are a problem, unless she's… I don't know what the right word for it is. She gets overwhelmed by things sometimes. Kind of shuts down."

"Sensory overload, most likely," Andrew nodded. "Strong sensory input can be off-putting for anyone, but for an autistic person, who might be more sensitive to things like bright lights or loud noises, it can trigger a physical and emotional response. In those moments something like headphones might be welcome, or they might not. I think you'd have to ask Jemma what she thinks, if that's something she's interested in using." Andrew smiled reassuringly. "I know you two are already doing this, but the biggest thing I can tell you at this point is to keep taking your cues from her. Some of your previous experiences may come in handy, but they might not. It just depends on Jemma. Like I said, it's a spectrum. She won't display every autistic characteristic we have on record, just the ones that are unique to who she is as a person. Some might overlap with other autistic people – the way she and Bobbi both use tactile stims, for example – but others won't be present, like how Jemma doesn't seem to display the echolalia that Bobbi does."

"I'm sorry, Bobbi…" Phil's face scrunched into a look of confusion. "Are you saying Bobbi is autistic, too?"

Andrew blinked, looked surprised. "I… yes, I thought that was one of the things I was supposed to be evaluating for today. I mean, I'm not prepared to diagnose, but I thought Bobbi demonstrated several noticeable autistic traits. I thought… I mean, I just assumed you were aware. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off-guard with this."

"No, it's… it's not a problem," May said quickly. "We just… we didn't realize. We had no idea that was something we should have been looking for with Bobbi. We missed it completely." Guilt started gumming up around her heart at the realization that there was still so much about Bobbi that was a complete unknown to her and Phil. They focused so much on Skye and Jemma, on their more obvious struggles in school and among peers, that they had inadvertently let Bobbi fall through the cracks. They had been surprised by Bobbi's batons a few weeks ago. They had been surprised by her panic attack at the soccer game. And now they were surprised to hear that Andrew thought Bobbi might be autistic like Jemma. How had they failed her so profoundly in such a short amount of time?

"That's actually not all that surprising to me," Andrew assuaged. He had caught the quick shift in May's demeanor. "My initial impression of Bobbi is that she's worked hard over the years to mask a lot of the things that would jump out at us as signs of ASD. She made a few offhand comments today about people reacting negatively to some parts of her personality, and given the few things she mentioned about her father, it wouldn't surprise me if he encouraged her to bury certain behaviors."

"She told us once that he didn't like it when she got emotional or when she repeated things," May confirmed. "She doesn't talk about him often, but the few things we've learned here and there… it makes my blood boil just thinking about it."

"Given the pressure from home and potentially from peer groups as well, there's a real possibility that Bobbi has, for lack of a better word, trained herself to act more like the people around her and less like herself. Which is why it might not be as apparent to a casual observer that she's potentially neurodivergent. But the batons she uses strike me as an indication of stimming, not unlike Jemma's tapping, and the repetition of words or phrases – echolalia, when it's auditory, and echologia, when it's a thought – is another thing that suggests ASD to me. Speaking with a flat affect is another one, and I noticed that she has a way of looking at people when they speak without actually making eye contact. It's possible that's just indicative of discomfort with me or the setting we're in, but it could also be a strategy she's developed over time to give the appearance of eye contact, which people expect and consider politer, without actually having to make it. Again," Andrew stressed, "this is all very early-stage observation. There's certainly plenty more layers of Bobbi to unpack before we ought to start thinking about labels or diagnoses, but my first impression of her was not all that dissimilar from Jemma's."

"I guess… yeah, I mean, that makes sense now that you say it out loud," Phil mused. "I just never would have… God, it breaks my heart that she feels like she has to keep so much of herself under wraps all the time. It must be exhausting."

"For now, just keep showing her that you care, that you're not going to treat her any differently if she starts to reveal pieces of herself. Consistent support can help ease the pressure of having to appear a certain way all the time," Andrew said encouragingly. "And for what it's worth, it's very clear to me that she's already feeling more comfortable with you two than she might with other people. All three of your girls, really. It's obvious they adore you two, look up to you. I'm glad you all have managed to find each other."

"We are, too," Phil smiled, his eyes a little misty. "They've changed our lives so much already, in so many ways. We're really grateful to share a life with them." May squeezed his hand again, and he turned his watery smile on her. She knew he could tell she felt the exact same way, and her heart swelled with love for the kind, gentle man sitting by her side.

"Well, Andrew," she said eventually, clearing the lump from her throat. "We can't thank you enough. For all your help, your expertise. For seeing us on a Saturday," she added with a laugh.

Andrew waved her off. "It was my pleasure, really. We actually keep the office open on Saturdays and use Sunday and Monday as our weekend. Several of my patients have families who work fulltime during the week and can't arrange time off, so Saturday meets their needs a little better. But, even if we didn't, you know I'd happily open up shop for you and Phil."

"Still," she insisted, "we're very thankful." Phil nodded emphatically beside her as they all rose to start saying their goodbyes.

"We appreciate everything you're doing, Andrew," Phil said, beaming. "And we'll make sure we don't let years slide by before we catch up next time."

"I'm counting on it," Andrew grinned.

Monday morning had been a slow one at the station, filled mostly with reports that needed catching up on. Until, that is, May saw the Sheboygan PD number pop up on her caller ID. It was about time. She had passed along the info from her dig through the birth records with Skye to Idaho over in Sheboygan weeks ago, hoping that he might be able to do more with the information than she could stuck in Manitowoc. She knew he was a busy guy, and that following up on a weird reaction from Skye and a nagging hunch from her wasn't exactly anyone's top priority, but still, he could have at least checked in.

"Hello?"

"Hey, May? It's Idaho," came his boisterous voice. In the background, May could hear what sounded like a raucous conversation taking place. "You free to chat? I've got some dirt I finally managed to dig up on that name you gave me. Weird dirt, for sure."

"I'm free," she told him, immediately grabbing a notebook, in case there was anything she needed to jot down. She didn't like the sound of 'weird dirt.' "You guys having a party over there in Sheboygan?"

"Nah, it's just the roller chair derby. Dalton's arguing there was unsportsmanlike conduct in the last heat, but Horowitz swears the wheel clip was accidental," Idaho said, which honestly created more questions than answers for May, but she chose to overlook the antics of the Sheboygan department. She had more important things to worry about than Idaho's shenanigans.

"So you were able to find some information on Calvin Johnson for me?" she asked.

"Yes and no," Idaho said. "Common name, and the Cal Johnson that I managed to pinpoint from that birth certificate is not an easy guy to track down, let me tell you."

"Your efforts are appreciated."

"Aw, thanks," Idaho crooned. May rolled her eyes. "He's got a record, which you knew. Been locked up a couple of times – assault and battery, assault with a deadly weapon, larceny. His first arrest was actually just a couple days after that birth certificate was issued, which I thought was interesting. That one was actually down closer to Milwaukee, which is why it didn't show up in your original searches. The one you found in your database was the second arrest, about five years later. The third one was about four years ago, though it was only an 18-month sentence, so I'm sure he's out. The guy must have a good lawyer or a way of charming his judges, 'cause it looks like he regularly got lighter sentences, despite being a repeat customer of the criminal justice system. Not much info to find on him in between the arrests, though, and not a word since his most recent release."

"So no real information about where he might be currently?" May asked.

"Not that I can tell, at least from a police standpoint. I can try and poke around in some real estate listings or something, but if we start digging too much deeper, we're going to need to get a warrant. Right now we're still just looking at info we can access on our own."

"That's fine," May said quickly. "I don't want to go too deep right now, it's all just some light research at this point. Fact-finding, not a full investigation. If it comes to it, I'll look into getting a warrant, but I want this to all be above-board."

"By-the-book, I gotcha," Idaho said. There was a kind of smacking sound on the other end of the line, and May wondered briefly if Idaho had started chewing gum. She took a breath in through her nose, trying to keep her cool. Idaho was giving her good info, she didn't need to snap at him now. Still, she tilted the phone away from her ear slightly in an attempt to dampen the chewing noises.

"Okay," Idaho continued, "so like I said, that's really all there is on this guy post-birth certificate. In and out of the system, but a lot of blank pages in between the entries, if you know what I mean. I looked into his life pre-birth certificate, just out of curiosity. Guy's got a medical license, which I thought was interesting. There's a marriage certificate for him and the mother on the birth certificate, a…" he hesitated slightly, and May braced herself for him to butcher the woman's name. "Jia-ying Johnson? They got hitched about two years before the baby, did it through the Milwaukee County courthouse. I have a buddy in that precinct down there who confirmed that paperwork for me."

"Any divorce records? Or records regarding the baby?"

"That's the thing," Idaho said, his voice coming a little faster, a little more excited. "I told you there was some weird dirt, well, here's where it gets weird. So they get married in Milwaukee, and the baby's born in Sheboygan. No big deal, people move all the time. But then dad's arrested a few days later back in Milwaukee. That's a lot of traveling, especially when there's a new baby around. Also a little interesting when you consider that there was a mysterious assault at the hospital the day before dad's arrest. So I get to thinking, and I do a little sniffing around Ames' Memorial. Not easy, mind you. They're totally anal about their records over there. But I manage to find a sympathetic ear, somebody who's impressed by the uniform—"

"Amazing," May deadpanned, failing to keep all of her sarcasm completely contained.

"And I can't get to the full patient files, those are sealed records that we'd need consent from the hospital director to get, or an order from a judge, but I do get a look at some basic info – including time of admission, about an hour before the baby was born, so I guess it was kind of a rush job," he tittered a little bit to himself, but May wasn't particularly amused. "And I thought I was going to get time of release a few days later, but the thing is… there's no record of that. For the mom or the baby. The baby's records just stop after two days, like she was never there in the first place. The mom's…"

He paused, and by the sound of it, blew a bubble with his gum. May waited, the breath almost completely suspended in her chest. She was filled with the overwhelming sensation that they were on the cusp of something big.

"The mom's ended in a hospital-issued death certificate. Almost a week after she was first admitted. I couldn't see the whole file, like I said, so I have no idea who the doctor overseeing her care was, but the doctor who signed off on the death certificate was that same one who reported the attack at the hospital that we looked into last time. That guy Daniel—"

"Whitehall," May finished for him. "The one who was dismissed later on."

"Yup," Idaho said seriously. "Now, I'm no conspiracy theorist, but that seems like an awful lot of coincidences for just one family, if you ask me."

May agreed, but she didn't share that with Idaho, just made a thoughtful noise into the phone to let him know she'd heard him. She didn't want to jump to conclusions, but more things were adding up in uncomfortable ways for her to just let the matter drop now.

"Do you have any other information on the mother? Family connections, where she might be buried?" May asked.

"See, here's the weirdest part of all," Idaho said in eager, hushed tones. "I thought the same thing. Look more into the mom's past, see if I could find some other people who might have info about the dad or the baby. But when I went to look for her, there was basically nothing. Not even an official death certificate from the county records."

"So you're saying that the hospital has records of this woman's death, but the government doesn't? No county or state records at all?"

"None. It's like she's a ghost. Or, well, that was insensitive, it's like she's been erased," Idaho amended. "Pretty freaky stuff, right? It's definitely the weirdest dig I've ever done."

"It's definitely unusual," May agreed. "And it opens up a lot more questions than answers."

"I'll keep sniffing around in my free time," Idaho offered. "I can't promise I'll find much more at this point, especially now that we're getting into the murky parts. We may reach a point where we have to launch an official investigation if we want to move forward, but without an actual crime to investigate that seems like a longshot."

"You're probably right," May said with a faint sigh. "I'll keep looking too, and I'll loop you in if anything changes. Idaho, I can't thank you enough for your help. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to chase phantoms. This… this means a lot to me."

"Hey, anytime," Idaho said buoyantly. "Trust me, things have been pretty slow around here, so I've appreciated the puzzle. I'm honestly kind of invested at this point. I'd love to find the kid eventually, see how she's doing now. It sounds like she had a pretty crazy first few days of life. Who knows how crazy the rest of her life has been, you know?"

She did know, or at least, if her growing suspicion was correct, then she thought she knew exactly how 'crazy' the mystery baby's life had been. Idaho didn't know the half of it. She still didn't have any kind of definitive proof, of course, but she was having a hard time ignoring all of the irregularities and coincidences that were lining up in front of her eyes.

What had started as a simple search for unusual events surrounding the time of Skye's arrival at St. Agnes had turned into a tangled web of disgraced doctors, a violent father, a mother who seemed not to exist anymore, and a baby who had vanished into thin air. If Skye really was the child caught up in the midst of the mystery taking shape before them, then things were even more complicated than May or Skye had originally thought, and May had no idea how to start to explain everything to her.

She didn't want to hide anything from Skye, especially after what had happened last time, but she wasn't sure it was the right decision to bury Skye in a mountain of theories, hunches, and disheartening half-facts. Skye already had a lot going on right now, with school and tutoring and now therapy with Andrew. And May still hadn't fully cracked the whole thing yet. The gaps in the information she had to work with were looming large, and she still wasn't sure what the key to the whole thing was – the lynchpin at the center of it all that would help everything else click into place. Was it the doctor? The father? The mother? Skye herself?

May was saved from further spinning her wheels in circular thought by the sudden buzzing of her cell phone. Digging it out of her pocket, she saw her mother's name flashing on the caller ID. Ah. She had been meaning to call her mom back for a couple weeks now, sending only a couple vague emails in the meantime. She wasn't avoiding her mother's calls exactly, more like delaying the inevitable until she could figure out exactly how to break the news of their newest family members to her. Everything was still so new and uncertain, she didn't want to get her mom excited, or invite unsolicited parenting advice, for a situation that still felt somewhat up in the air. She and Phil still had so much learning and navigating to do, the last thing she wanted was her mom going into full grandma-mode before they had fully gotten their bearings.

Still, she couldn't exactly keep ignoring her mom, so, begrudgingly, May tapped the screen to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"So when exactly were you planning on telling me that I'm a grandmother now?"

May blinked, took a second to process what exactly her mother had just asked, then sighed deeply. "Mom? How did—? You know, I'm actually at work right now, can I call you back later tonight?"

"What, so you can forget and go another two weeks without calling?" her mom accused.

"Mom, I'm sorry, we've just been busy—"

"Being a parent does that you."

"We were going to tell you soon, Mom, I promise. Phil and I were just waiting for… for the right time. For things to feel a little more settled. There's a lot of new things that we're still figuring out." May pinched the bridge of her nose. This was definitely not how she had wanted this conversation to go. "Mom, how did you even find out?"

"Andrew told me," her mom said simply. "Unlike my daughter and son-in-law, Andrew cares enough about me to fill me in on your major life updates."

"Andrew told you?" May was surprised. She would have expected that Andrew's professionalism would have prevented him from mentioning the girls to anyone. They were his patients, after all.

"Yes, well, we were having our Sunday chat, like we usually do, and he mentioned that he met my granddaughters and how proud I must be of them and of you. Of course I had no idea what he was talking about, but I had to pretend like I did. What grandmother doesn't even know that her grandchildren exist, huh?"

May winced. She had forgotten about Andrew's Sunday chats with her mother. Even after all these years, he was still better at keeping in touch with her mom than she was. To be fair, though, Andrew and her mom got along like peas in a pod. They always had, even when she and Andrew had been in high school. It was one of the reasons her mother had been so upset when she and Andrew had decided to just be friends. At least he hadn't mentioned the capacity in which he'd met the girls – it was nice to know that she could still count on Andrew to be a straight-laced rule-follower.

"Mom, I'm… I'm really sorry. I should have told you. That was a mistake, and I apologize."

"Does your father know?"

"No, we haven't told him yet, either."

"Well thank goodness for that," her mom said, an edge of teasing creeping into her tone. "At least I'm not the only one you're keeping in the dark."

"We haven't really told anyone, honestly," May explained. "We're just fostering them right now, so there are a lot of considerations we have to be aware of, and there's the possibility that it won't be a… permanent arrangement."

"Well you should look into changing that. I've waited years to be a grandmother, I'm not interested in going back now."

May smiled in spite of herself. "I'll see what I can do, Mom."

"So," her mom said, excitement finally overtaking her. "Tell me about my granddaughters."

"They're incredible, Mom," May breathed, surprising herself with the emotion that snagged in her throat. "They're… they're better than Phil or I could have ever imagined. Victoria initially matched us up with Jemma, she's 12, the youngest of the three. She's sweet and smart and has the most thoughtful way of seeing the world. And when we went to meet Jemma, we met Skye at the orphanage. They're best friends, they were basically attached at the hip when we met them, and… I don't know, Mom, something about Skye… we couldn't just walk away from that place without her. She's stubborn and feisty, but she's so gentle and funny. Clever, too, even though she pretends like she's not."

"She sounds like someone else I know," her mom observed. Melinda could automatically picture her mom's expression, playful and accusatory and proud all wrapped up into one, with the classic single-raised-eyebrow that every May woman had mastered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," May smirked. "And Bobbi, she's the oldest. Strong, determined, so protective of the younger ones. She's so considerate of other people's feelings, and she's sharp as a tack, too. She came to us about a week after we brought Jemma and Skye home, kind of by happenstance, but ever since she's moved in, it's just… felt like all these pieces that we didn't even know we were missing have all slotted into place."

"Oh, báobèi," her mom sighed contentedly. "I'm so happy for you. They sound perfect. Not that I would expect anything less from my granddaughters, of course."

"Of course," May agreed with mock seriousness. "I think you're really going to like them, Mom."

"Well, that was never a question."

They chatted for a few more minutes, May catching her mom up on some other news – work, Phil, their usual fare – and her mom filling May in on the new layout in the grocery store ("they put the produce much too close to the floral department, and you can order a Starbucks right inside the door now. Who needs coffee at the grocery store?") and the latest drama in her homeowner's association. Apparently the vice-president of the HA, whom her mother liked, had started amassing a following to unseat the current president. Her mom seemed pleased with the development.

"Hattie O'Neal has let power go to her head. She told me to move my tulip planters back six feet. Six feet, Melinda. I can't just move my planters, I'm an old lady. But Hattie doesn't care."

"You're not exactly frail and feeble, Mom," May smiled.

"It's about the principle, sháguā. You know that. Anyway, Irene is planning to make her move at the next meeting, and I can't wait to see the look on Hattie's face. I haven't felt a rush like this since we got Milošević out of Yugoslavia."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just compare your homeowners' association squabble to a complex international event."

"My life moves at a much slower pace these days, Melinda. I have to find my excitement somewhere," her mother teased.

Eventually May had to get back to work, and she ended the call with a promise to keep in touch more regularly.

"And I'll talk to Phil about figuring out a time for you to meet the girls. We want you come, but we just have more details to work out these days, so no surprise visits, Mom, got it?"

"Fine, fine," her mother sighed. "Continue to deprive me of my grandchildren. I've gone this long without them, what's a few months more?"

"You're such a drama queen," May smiled. She was happy to hear the playful tenor in her mother's voice. She had been worried that her mom was going to be upset and hold a grudge, but it seemed as though the promise of meeting Bobbi, Skye, and Jemma was more than enough to assuage any resentment at being kept in the dark for so long.

"A queen has a right to be dramatic sometimes, Melinda, remember that. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom. Bye."

May leaned back in her chair, sighed deeply. Her list of things to talk about with Phil just kept getting longer and longer, it seemed. Apparently it was just one of those days.

Oh look, the plot showed back up! ;)

Apologies for the probably terrible phonetic Mandarin. I couldn't exactly get the right diacritical mark for some of the vowels to show up here, hence why a couple of letter 'a's have acute accents instead of carons, which is the more accurate mark, as far as I know. Weirdly, the caron over the 's' in Milošević did show up, so who knows, maybe I'm just not doing something right lol. Anyways, thanks a million for reading! Hope you liked these chapters :)