Author Note:
Hi all, my apologies for the longer wait for this update. A loved one passed away earlier this month, and grief is a funny thing when you have life and death within a very short timeframe of each other. Anyways...onward we go.
Just wanted to make a clarification in the last update in case there was some confusion with Callie getting sick. Yes, her fever returned even though it broke in the morning. I do not know what, if anything, will come of that story arc. Thanks to those of you who brought it to my attention.
Thank you to allycallie for suggesting that Callie draw some parallels between Lena and her Mom taking care of her while sick. And to theypreferthetermpeople to make sure you're getting a good quality product!
Chapter 44: Laying Worry Dragons to Rest
Stef paused at the threshold of the master bedroom, taking in the scene between her wife and daughter with fondness. Callie was stationed at the foot of their bed, engulfed in an oversized terry bathrobe as Lena worked a wide-toothed comb through the tangles in her hair. Judging by the modest amount of straight hair parted to one side compared to the side that was uncombed, there was still a ways to go, which was unfortunate because the expression on Callie's face indicated that her patience was thin.
Despite it only being late afternoon, Lena had managed to coax their daughter into showering earlier. Her concerns over Callie had steadily increased along with a fever that had slowly crept up after lunch, and she hoped that bringing down her temperature would abate the sluggishness she was observing. A post-shower check was also in order and Lena had assumed things would be smoother without four other bodies angling for hot water. In practice, however, garnering Callie's cooperation was harder. Not thrilled about leaving the comforts of being wrapped up in a blanket with a movie playing, Callie dragged her feet in getting to the bathroom. Given that she wasn't feeling her best, this wasn't entirely surprising; it was hard enough to get her through the routine under normal circumstances. The shower seemed to do nothing for Callie's mood and she complained relentlessly—even becoming tearful at one point—when it was time for Lena to help her finish up the steps.
"Hey, lovebug! Look at you, all showered and fresh!" the cop declared brightly, hopeful that some positive reinforcement might help lift Callie's spirits. Her well meaning comment was met with a scowl, corroborating Lena's account of how their afternoon had gone downhill.
"Hi, honey. What are you doing home early?" Lena asked.
Stef smiled, not missing the relief behind Lena's words. "Desk duty this afternoon. Roberts said to bring it home." The Captain had given her the go-ahead to leave earlier ever since learning that Callie was home sick today. She just hadn't mentioned anything in case something came up and she couldn't leave as planned.
"Adams-Foster! You are having way too much fun in here. What is so funny?" Stef had been in the staff kitchen when her personal cell pinged a text alert. Hastily wiping her hands and setting aside the freshly-washed mug, she snorted with laughter at the photo and her wife's accompanying caption.
'Presenting…Miss Sourpuss…'
"This," she said, angling the screen towards her boss to share the snapshot of Callie on the couch, legs hiked up onto the cushion as she hugged a hot water bottle against her body. It was past ten o'clock, but she was still in her pyjama pants which had apparently shrunk because the cuffs were at capri length. She was wearing a deep frown—complete with downturned mouth—from her movie being interrupted by Lena. "It's a terrible, terrible thing to be taken care of," she joked.
Unable to focus on the photo while Stef was holding the device, Roberts cradled it in her hands and zoomed in. "Oh my goodness…what a sweet thing," she gushed before laughing at Lena's message below. "Callie appears so different already," she remarked. "Comfortable. She must be settling in." She was shocked by the change that had taken place in just a few months time. The girl looked much healthier than she remembered from having met her twice in person—once at the store when she'd run into the newly-expanded family and another when Callie had accompanied Stef into the precinct to grab forgotten keys. Yet, it felt as though she had a relationship with her. She knew her story and about the difficulties that Stef and Lena had been facing both legally and in parenting. Stef had worked in her division for decades and she had been there for her when the twins had been brought in and for the stressful period that followed, rife with struggles that came with integrating them into their family.
"Oh, yes," Stef affirmed, grinning. She was tired as hell today but yesterday's late night had been worth it; now she was finally able to say that with confidence. "She's certainly learning the way things are done in our home, that's for sure."
"That's wonderful." The captain paused, not wanting to detract from the happy moment but also remembering an earlier conversation she'd meant to follow up on. "Have you and Lena heard back from Juvenile Justice?"
The grin quickly left Stef's face as she swallowed her nerves. She had gone to Roberts for advice on Callie's situation when things had began to spiral out of control, desperate for a more definitive answer as to whether the department would actually pursue anything and to what extent. "Not yet. It's supposed to be soon, though. Probably within the week," she said, mentally working out the timeline since Bill had sent them the letter.
Roberts smiled kindly at Stef. While it'd been quite some time since she had had a thirteen-year-old in her charge, as a mom she was all too familiar with the worries inherent in raising children. Despite knowing about some of the trouble Callie had been getting into, she was rooting for her and for the integrity of the family.
"Yeah, I know. I'm just not prepared to get her hopes up. Or mine," Stef admitted. Since it was the first time Callie had breached her conditions, she was hopeful that Juvenile Justice would grant leniency.
The captain nodded in understanding and Stef felt grateful to have an ally in her. She had worked for Roberts ever since she had started with the SDPD and could not have asked for a better boss, who had, over the years, become somewhat of a second mother to her.
"So what is Callie doing at home today? School isn't closed for a Staff Development day is it?"
"No. She's down with a cold and has a bit of a fever. Nothing serious. I think she probably would've been fine at school but…we had a bit of a rough go last night and we figured a day home was best."
"Oh no. Again? I'm sorry to hear that, Stef."
"It's okay. Thanks, Captain."
"Why don't you head home at afternoon coffee break? You should be home with them—they need you," Roberts suggested. She ran her team with a family-focused perspective in mind and tried to avoid having her officers abandon their families in times of need if she could help it. "We're two above baseline today," she said, referring to the extra officers on dayshift. "It would be no problem. Bring your work with you if it makes you feel better, but no pressure. Just mark it on the flow sheet when you go and I'll see you next week."
Stef opened her mouth to argue before stopping herself. After what Callie had told them yesterday about her fears, she wanted to be extra diligent to show her that she had her support.
She leaned in to peck her wife on the cheek before giving Callie the same affectionate gesture, who inched away from her with disgust. "I know," she said, exaggerating her sympathy. "I, too, am very sad that I won't have a scent trail to pick up on should you run away again," she teased lovingly.
"Le—na!" the girl whined, whipping her head around to see if her foster mom had heard—and if so, what she planned on doing about it. Her face contorted in pain as her hair inadvertently yanked the comb from her foster mother's grip in the process.
"Ow!" Callie growled angrily. Ripping the object from the tangled mat, she balanced it on her fingertips before flicking it hard towards the floor, following its trajectory as bounced once, then hit the bottom drawer of the dresser with a satisfying snap.
"Ooohhh, sweetheart," Lena said as she herself winced; the tug on her hair had probably hurt. She was unimpressed by her daughter throwing the comb, but was more than happy to let it go and coddle her for now. So instead, she rubbed the area on Callie's scalp where the hair had been pulled. However, it only appeared to annoy her further and her daughter drew away from her attempts to soothe her. This day was going from bad to worse, quickly.
Not missing the hurt that flashed across her wife's face when Callie had addressed her by name, Stef gave her a look of sympathy. It was difficult for Lena, as it was for her, every time their daughter stopped calling them a derivation of mom that suggested she was beginning to see them as her mothers. They weren't planning on making a big deal out of it. The ebb and flow was only natural, and usually came with distraction rather than any intent. But it didn't mean that it didn't hurt a little whenever it happened.
Exasperated by her wife's unhelpful remarks, Lena hit Stef on the arm to illustrate her displeasure. Already spent from her tedious battle with Callie over washing her neck and feet, the last thing she had expected was for Stef to come along and encourage things to unravel any further than they already had.
"Seriously, Stef? Go!" she ordered, pointing to the walk-in. Now that she knew Callie was unsettled by the police uniform, she was going to be better about reminding Stef to change as soon as she got home.
"Honey, I was just joking. You don't smell," Stef said apologetically to Callie before deciding it'd be best to stop while ahead. Glancing at Lena, she mouthed 'sorry' in her direction before disappearing into the closet in search of comfier clothes. It was still a couple hours before she would need to be up at the school to collect their other four.
Callie scratched the spot on her scalp—which was now a dull ache—only to become more irritated when that made it hurt more. "You never ask me if I want to comb my hair," she complained, her voice climbing an octave. It annoyed her to no end that it always took so long and that Stef and Lena cared so much about making it perfect when it really didn't matter to her. "Hair's dead, and the only person obsessed with keeping it perfect is you. And I don't want you to do that anymore!"
Lena shot her wife a scathing glare as Stef poked her head out of the closet to give her a quizzical look. While she was more than happy to have another set of hands on deck at home earlier, she had also been navigating the landmines successfully before Stef had come along. Not only did Callie seem to be the ultimate grouch when sick, but the disrupted sleep and emotional toll of the week was clearly starting to catch up to her because Callie had never become this upset over them needing to help her with her self-care. She would often stall and protest and hide, but this was the first time they'd seen her close to tears because of it.
"Don't scratch, honey—don't scratch," she said, taking Callie's hand away. "Oh, baby…this is nothing to get so upset about. You are right, I'm sorry I didn't ask if I could help you when that's the first thing I should have done," she said, hoping that the concession would take some of the edge off the child's angry mood. "Your hair is absolutely perfect the way it is but it is so thick that it needs some attention to keep it healthy." She eyed the girl as she spoke, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel as her frown began to soften. "Otherwise…you might end up with dreadlocks."
"Well maybe that's what I want," Callie mumbled. Who was Lena to tell her what she did or didn't want?
Lena quickly searched for soothing words to turn things around so she could finish what needed to be done. "That would be neat," she placated, although the idea of letting Callie's hair mat even further—and on purpose—mortified her more than anything. "But even dreads need care and we should practice if that is something you might be interested in," she reasoned gently, running her fingers through a section of curls.
"What if I just used my fingers to get the worst snarls out?" Lena negotiated. "Like this?" She let nimble fingers demonstrate their intention as they worked through the largest mat at the nape of Callie's neck.
Callie frowned, not knowing how to dispute Lena when she was being so damn nice about it. Plus, she wouldn't ever admit it, but it didn't seem so bad and was actually kinda relaxing.
Lena breathed a sigh of relief when, after a pause, she felt her daughter's shoulders relax and Callie leaned back into her a little. She had won this battle—for now.
"Uhm. Okay. Just those ones," the girl relented. "Yeah. Like that."
Overhearing the exchange between her wife and child as she got changed, Stef smiled to herself. While Callie was less inclined to behave for Lena, it was Lena—not her—who had a way with her sometimes that meant she was able to redirect a crisis before it happened.
If she and Lena were two components of an exterior door, Mama was the storm door—the one who dissuaded misbehaviour from happening with praise and approval as key motivators, which all their children wanted. Mom was the door behind, reinforcing the rules with consequences to remind them they were not to go there. But while the positive reinforcement was enough to motivate Mariana, Brandon, and Jude to abide by the rules at home and at school, the approach was less effective for Jesus and Callie. Things were more chaotic with them. While Stef had no doubt those two wanted the same things as their siblings, their impulsivity and temper always steamrolled Lena's efforts—almost demanding a response that matched the level of intensity in their crisis. They wanted to obey for Mama, but their primary motivator was obedience for the sake of avoiding consequences and Mom's wrath. She and Lena had thought there'd been a shift with Callie wanting to follow their rules but after the revelations last night, it'd been apparent that it was because she was afraid her behaviour made her unwanted. Her main goal wasn't obedience, but the fear of rejection. needless to say, parenting in their household wasn't even close to being equal.
She was grateful that by the time she'd finished changing that Callie appeared to be in better spirits, making her feel braver about approaching her again. Ever since her conversation with Jude, the cop was itching to know how her day at home had went. Sure, the siblings weren't used to being taken care of when sick but she hoped that with time, they would come to expect that they would be. As they should be.
"How are you feeling, love?" she asked, sitting down beside her on the bed. Callie was allowing Lena to put a thick braid in her hair—one of her signature tricks to keep hair tidy without having to comb it everyday.
"Better."
"That's what I like to hear, my sweet girl." Doubting the credibility of that statement, she placed the back of her hand on the girl's forehead. "Whoa—Cal...I just wanted to see how warm you were!" she defended when Callie dodged her reach and scrunched her face. She could only imagine what her daughter had been like for Lena. "How about the official temp reader, then?" she suggested as she spotted the ear thermometer atop the dresser, before realizing her mistake of asking when Callie looked at her as if that idea was criminal.
"What, my love? What is so ludicrous about wanting to know what your temp is to see how well Mama took care of you, hm?" she coaxed. She was puzzled when Lena gave her a pained smile but before she could ask, Callie piped up.
"Mama didn't use that," the girl stated, her pronunciation telling her she was referring to Colleen rather than Lena. "She had the little paper that she put on my head."
"Oh?" Stef said, feigning understanding as she searched her wife's face for explanation. "Ah, yes, of course, the forehead papers," she said sarcastically as Lena suppressed a laugh. She honestly didn't know what Callie was talking about.
"Callie and I thought if you had a free moment you might be able to do a stop at Ralph's," Lena replied. She felt guilty for suggesting that Stef go out of her way but there had been a low point earlier in which Callie had refused to let her use the Braun Thermoscan. Eventually, she'd gotten her talking about how her mother had cared for her when she had to stay home from school. Callie had cheered up some in the ensuing discussion, happy to compare the similarities and differences in the way Lena was going about things to her Mom's approach. As for Lena, she was determined to incorporate some of what Colleen had done for the children, knowing it would make Callie more amenable to being taken care of. In addition to freshly hard boiled eggs with their yolks replaced by cheese slices and Kool Aid, the skin surface thermometers had been a concession. They weren't as accurate but they were less invasive and if they were tolerable to Callie, so be it.
"The fever strips. I already called and they have them in stock," she said, her way of telling Stef she had been desperate.
"Right. The ones that don't always work so well," Stef quipped. "I can pick some up on the way to get your sibs," she said, hopeful that would make things a little easier.
"Tell me. How was staying home with Mama?" she asked, changing the subject entirely. "It wasn't so bad now, was it? Not too boring?" Callie had put up a fuss when they had told her she couldn't go to school, but this was the same kid with the equivalent of weeks of unexplained absences so they knew better than to assume it was because she liked school. It was that she was uncomfortable being home.
Her daughter shook her head. "It was fun. I did homework after breakfast and then I had to go lie down for a while. But after we had a movie marathon," she shared, brightening.
"Movie marathon?" Stef said incredulously. "And you give me a hard time over screen time," she muttered as Callie giggled at her disapproving tone towards her wife. She could only imagine how thrilled their daughter must've been and wasn't really upset though.
"So missy, what was on the roster?"
"Ratatouille. Super 8…and The Lovely Bones."
"Very nicely done," she said, winking at Callie before turning to her wife. "You let her watch The Lovely Bones?" she asked through a fake smile. While she wasn't one for censorship, the content—a brutal rape and murder of a young teen by a serial pedophile—was harrowing and she'd been left unsettled when she watched it with Lena.
"Mhm. Callie's pick that we watched together," Lena assured her. She, too, had been taken aback by the choice, but Callie had already read the novel and seemed genuinely curious about the movie when she had seen the DVD. "Did you like the book better or the movie?" she said, turning to her budding film critic.
"Mm, the movie, but the Harvey guy they casted was really creepy."
"I thought so too," Lena agreed. "It means he's a good actor." Knowing that not all of Stef's concerns had been allayed by knowing Callie had already read the novel, she quickly changed the subject. "How about you tell Mom what else we got up to?"
"Mama helped me fix my book," Callie said shyly.
"I heard. That was very kind of her," the cop replied. "You said thank you?"
"She did," Lena said as she secured the hair elastic around the braid.
"Good girl."
"There. All done, honey." Wrapping her arms around her daughter, she pulled her in for a hug from behind. "I think it's time to bring Mom up to speed on some of the things we talked about today," she said, encouraging Callie to continue where they'd left off. She had given Stef a heads up about their conversation in general, but having Callie engage with them was better. That way, they could address any residual fears together.
"No, thank you," Callie replied politely. She knew what Lena wanted to bring up and she was so over it. If this was so important to her, then she could do it.
A wave of guilt washed over Stef as she noticed her daughter tense up. Was she really that scary? she thought, recalling the text exchange between herself and Lena in the afternoon. It'd been interrupted several times throughout the course of the day but she gathered that Callie had been afraid of her yesterday; however, it'd been hard to glean the full message of what exactly she'd done to precipitate those fears.
Deciding to begin by apologizing, the woman reached out to grasp Callie's hands in her own. "My love, I'm so very sorry that I scared you yesterday—if I did something, or if I remind you of people who were hurtful towards you and Jude, or didn't treat you nicely. That's the last thing I want to do," she said softly. It killed that her daughter didn't feel fully safe in her own home and that she'd been the reason behind it.
Callie retracted herself from Lena slightly so that she could twist around to direct her comments at her. "I wasn't scared of Mom!" she snapped, close to frustrated tears. She was mortified at what Lena had obviously told Stef. Her foster moms really did share everything.
Sensing distress was brewing under the surface, Lena sighed in resignation. Judging by the way her daughter had closed up when she had tried to talk to her, Callie was self-conscious about whatever it was. But as much as she wanted to give space, something told her that whatever it was that was buried there couldn't be left alone to fester. She just didn't know how much to push Callie.
In the end, it was their daughter who surprised the both of them by steering the conversation which had initially been left unfinished.
"I was kinda scared but it wasn't because of you," Callie mumbled grudgingly, turning back towards Stef. She blew out a breath at her foster mom's obvious confusion, resentful that they were making her talk about her muddled feelings. But past experience told her that neither Stef nor Lena would let it go so the best thing to do was to just get it over with. "You don't remind me of Val or anyone like her," she said. "You just…reminded me of them." That was different.
"Okay. I don't remind you of them…but I kind of do, too?" Stef repeated slowly, genuinely confused as she tried to make sense of what Callie was getting at.
Looking down at her hands, Callie shook her head. She had no idea how to put words to what had been going through her mind yesterday when she had panicked. "Not really…no."
Lena squeezed her daughter gently in her arms, proud of her effort to communicate with them despite her nervousness. That was new. "Do you mean that Mom doesn't remind you of people who mistreated you, but she did something that made you think about them?" she tried, crossing her fingers that that was it because she didn't have any ideas apart from that.
Rephrasing the initial attempt helped, and Callie snapped around to stare at her with a mix of gratitude and astonishment on her face. "Yeah…yeah." She drew in another deep breath and blew it out, harder this time. "M—mom was…she was, um, gettingherbeltoff," she said quickly, sure she'd die from embarrassment for telling them. "Then I remembered them and got really freaked out."
"You reminded yourself you were here and not there," Lena said as Callie nodded. Those had been her child's words, not her's, from earlier in the day.
Stef felt her chest constrict at the nonchalant tone, as if Callie was trying to make what she'd admitted to come across as no big deal. The problem was, it was. It was huge that she had triggered memories of a painful, traumatic time in Callie's life.
"Take my belt off? Wha—when, baby girl? When did I do that?" Stef asked hoarsely as she retraced her steps from the night before. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment Callie was referring to.
Callie glanced at her foster mom before her gaze drifted down. "You were sweeping," she mumbled. "And then you said I had to get on Mariana's bed and I—I didn't think you were gonna hit me, Mom! I didn't," she insisted, noticing Stef tear up. "I just remembered stuff." Shuddering, the girl leaned back into Lena, allowing her to envelop her into her arms. It felt like nothing could get her here. "Val used to talk like that—say words like that, I mean."
Stef drew in measured breath as she struggled to keep her composure intact. She understood exactly which moment Callie was referring to. She had definitely loosened the accessory around her waist while cleaning underneath the bed and it had evidently become larger in Callie's head than it was. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, Cal."
"I know," Callie replied, feeling awkward. "Sorry you had to clean my room."
"It's okay. You don't need to apologize for that. All is forgiven," Stef emphasized, getting even more emotional with the language Callie used that indicated ownership of the space she shared with Mariana. As well as the gratitude over her help restoring her room to a habitable condition—as if the idea of a clean room as a basic living condition was a privilege and a new concept. Clearing her throat, she gently rubbed Callie's upper arm. "Look at me, love. Look at me," she said, waiting for eye contact before continuing. "You know I wasn't going to hit you, yes?"
Callie gave a firm nod. That wasn't the way things were done around here, and not once had she doubted Stef in spite of the intrusive thoughts.
"Do you know why I was loosening my belt?" she questioned, exchanging a concerned look with her wife. She was honestly afraid of how Callie would answer. If there wasn't a reason, she would always wonder if her daughter had suspected the worst—being beaten—and wasn't being honest to spare her from feeling bad. But she had to ask; after yesterday's events, neither she nor Lena were keen on cultivating any more misunderstandings between them. Not if it could be helped, anyway.
"Callie?" she repeated, trying to draw an answer from her.
The girl bit her lip and nodded. "I thought maybe you were not comfy, 'cause you had to bend down real far to get the stuff under my bed. So maybe you had to get your belt off to, umm, make room so it wouldn't, um, digintoyoursnackpocket," she said, proud of herself for having put that together. "Because it was uncomfortable?" she ventured to add, glancing at the cop to see if she'd gotten it right. Her Mom had taught her to never talk about people's appearances but Stef was asking and she was pretty sure that was what had happened. It was the only thing she could think of that made sense after the initial waves of panic had passed.
Mortified at what she was hearing, Stef's eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she stared at her wife in horror. Behind their daughter, Lena was coughing to stifle a laugh.
"Cal…wha—what do you mean, snack pocket?" the cop said with disbelief although she was sure she didn't need anymore clarification.
Callie glanced at her cautiously. "You know, the paunch you get on your stomach after you have a baby. You get some extra skin hanging around and it gets in the way when you're doing up your button or crouching down. That's what my Mom used to call hers," she explained patiently. Her words picked up in pace as the horrified look on her foster mom's face told her she needed to do damage control and fast. "Don't worry! Yours is smaller because you just had Brandon but my Mom, she had—"
Barely able to hide her amusement by now, Stef held up a hand. "Thank—you, Callie. It's not—necessary...to explain...further." Not sure she could keep it together any longer, she brought both palms up to her face and shook her head from behind them.
Hearing Lena snort with laughter behind her, the girl spun around. "Mama, what?" she asked, confused by the amused expression on the woman's face. "What's wrong with Mom?" she added when she saw the cop hiding behind her hands and her shoulders were shaking.
"Nothing's wrong, sweetheart. I'm just not sure Mom was prepared to hear about her snack pocket," Lena managed to say before she let go of all efforts to maintain a straight face and she burst into laughter.
Stef emerged briefly to give the girl a piece of her mind. "I do not have a snack pocket," she pointed out indignantly as Callie gave her an apologetic wince. Her daughter was going to give her a complex, that much was certain.
"Oh, that is it. That—is—it. You are going to pay for that, my sassy girl." When Callie least suspected it, she grabbed her by the shins and dragged her clear off Lena's lap.
"Ahhh! MAMA help!" Callie squealed, trying to grapple her way back towards Lena for safety.
"Now you leave your Mama out of this! Mama can't save you!" Stef scolded.
Lena guffawed; Callie had body shamed her wife with no clue as to what she had done. That it'd been done with such sincerity and patience was hilarious. "Mom is right, Cal. You got yourself in this mess—I am staying out of it," she said, barely able to choke out her words through her laughs.
"I—do—not—have—a—snack—pocket!" Stef declared, tickling her daughter in the ribs to punctuate each word.
"It's not very big!" Callie insisted through her own giggles. She had managed to flip onto her stomach so she could clamour back to her foster mom—the one who wasn't annoyed—but Stef was not letting up at all, making it hard for her to escape.
Stef stopped in shock. "What did you say?" she asked, mustering as deadly a voice as she could. Her child was fearless.
Callie froze. "I said it's not—"
"I heard you! I heard you, missy! And that is not the right answer! I repeat, that—is—not—the—right—answer—Callie!" Stef replied, emphasizing her message by launching an attack under the girl's armpits.
"An appropriately sized snack pocket," Lena added unhelpfully as she continued to laugh.
At this point, the women were both wheezing through belly-aching laughter and had tears pouring down their faces. Eventually, when Stef was confident enough she could speak without bursting into either a fit of laughter or tears, she helped Callie get up and patted her leg. "Come sit."
"You are a riot, Callie, you know that?" she said, dabbing at her eyes as Callie settled into her lap, bucket style.
"Sweetness...I want you to listen to me, this is important," Stef said when they had all calmed down. "I was loosening my belt, yes, because it was digging into me. I had just had dinner before, remember? I was bloated from Mama's cooking and needed to make a little more room, that's all," she defended, though she had to admit now she was a bit self-conscious.
She sighed loudly in mock exasperation at her child and raised her eyebrows. "What role my snack pocket played in this is unclear," she added, eliciting another round of squeals as she resumed poking her daughter in the side.
Once Callie had calmed down again, Stef squeezed her tightly in her arms. "You're right—I wasn't going to hit you. I wasn't getting it out. I do remember telling you to stay on Mari's bed and now I wish I'd taken more time to explain," Stef admitted, "but in the moment it didn't feel like there was time to. I was focused on the glass on the floor and keeping you from getting hurt. I can see how that would've triggered you and I am so sorry for that," she said, wanting to make sure there was no room for confusion.
"I knew you weren't. You and Mama aren't like that," Callie said confidently. She reached up with both hands to hold onto Stef's arms which fell straight down in front of her shoulders, forearms crossed like a t-bar at chest height. It reminded her of getting on a rollercoaster—the moment she would shake the harness a little after it engaged to test her safety.
And she was safe now.
"You're sure? You never thought it was a possibility at any time?" Lena asked.
"Mm, maybe for a second, but it was easy to remember you wouldn't," Callie said. Once she had thought it through, Stef's behaviour had made sense.
Her honesty was enough to reassure Stef and Lena that she trusted in her security with them. Rather than automatically doubting them, Callie was trying to accept what they were telling her. Sure, Stef had complained that yesterday's tantrum was draining—it was—but now she saw it from Lena's perspective. Callie misunderstanding her permanent place in their family and the ensuing blow up had been a good thing. Necessary, even, for change to happen.
"Do you remember what we talked about the other night—not last night but the one before?" Stef prompted, referring to the aftermath of her daughter's nightmare.
Callie surprised her. "No one gets into trouble for accidents in our house."
Stef gave her wife a tearful smile; neither had expected the answer to have come so easily to Callie. They'd been prepared to repeat the message because both times she'd spoken to her about this, it had either been in the midst of a sleepwalking delirium or a tantrum and she felt that Callie's listening skills had been compromised.
"Exactly. I meant that, Bug. I know this wasn't the case in some of your other placements, and Mama and I need you to know that that was very, very wrong. That kind of abuse…" she emphasized before choking up at the damage that had been done. Damage that she and Lena would always be fighting against knowing it wouldn't ever be able to be fully erased. "It was unacceptable, Callie. It should have never happened," she said firmly.
Callie drew a blank stare. She knew that they'd been abused in the other places they'd lived at—she wasn't dense. She'd heard Bill talking about it on occasion when he thought she wasn't listening, and read about it in hospital charts when adults weren't looking. This was the first time, however, that an adult had labelled it as abuse in her presence. It was weird, but also…freeing. It wasn't hushed like it was something to be ashamed of.
Heart sagging, Stef drew in a measured breath before she continued. It was sooner than she and Lena planned on having this conversation with their daughter but now seemed like an appropriate time as any.
"If you were to get a spanking again—and that's an if…it would be a spanking, Callie, not a beating. Those are different. It would be over something we've either discussed many times before or something incredibly serious, and we would talk about it lots," she explained. "It would never involve an object or shaming you in any way—like removing your clothing." The moment when Callie had gripped the waistband on her pyjamas while trapped in her night terror was indelibly etched in her mind.
"Like the time you decided it was a good idea to unlock Mom's safe," Lena added, wanting to provide a specific example. While she had her reservations about this sort of consequence, she was confident that Callie would not be attempting that again. Not just because of how Stef had punished her for it, but because of how remorseful their daughter had been when she saw the safe had to be replaced and what Lena interpreted as disappointment in herself. "Not because you let your emotions get the best of you and destroyed your things."
"We'll talk more about this later," Stef said. She was trying to avoid having the conversation get derailed by getting into a topic that she and Lena still hadn't decided on how to navigate yet. But she didn't think there was any harm in repeating this in case there was any inkling of doubt on Callie's part. Plus, it seemed like a natural point in time to reassure her. "But for now, does that sound fair to you?"
Callie nodded slowly; she was slightly confused at why Stef and Lena were repeating themselves. She thought she had made it clear that she hadn't thought Stef would hurt her. Not in the way she and Jude had been before. Their intention to want them to be good people, like her Mom had, was pretty clear to her.
"Okay. One more thing," Stef said. "You said Val used to say things like that. Did anyone else?"
Callie paused before nodding again. "Jeanine," she admitted in a soft voice as the concern in Lena's features became more pronounced. "She didn't let us eat sometimes and I—I got really hurt in her house."
"I know…I know she hurt you, Bug," Stef said, encouraging use of more direct language. Remembering what Bill had told her about the injuries Callie had sustained, she wished for anything to be able to erase that trauma for her.
Her anger surged as a sudden thought entered her mind. "Wait. Is that what that woman—Val—told you? That if you broke anything else she would use a belt next time?" she demanded, her voice shaking with fury as she realized she already knew the answer. "She threatened you?"
It made sense. That awful nightmare in which Callie had been so fixated on the door being broken. Grabbing her waistband. The frantic insistence during her sleepwalking that she'd learned her lesson and wouldn't do that again because she didn't want that. What she had told Lena today about the door and hinting that Val had been physical with her.
Her heart shattered when the girl made fleeting eye contact with her before looking away without reply. "Answer me," Stef urged. Things would be easier for Callie if she got her to acknowledge her abuse. They could move forward and rebuild.
"I can't tell you," Callie blurted out reflexively. She was annoyed her foster mom was asking her.
"Yes you can. Answer the question. Did she tell you not to tell anyone?"
Eyeing a second hangnail to chew on, Callie let out a sigh. Cop mom was back. She averted her gaze, trying to figure out what she could say without anyone getting mad at her, but was becoming distracted by Stef's new theme song she'd made up to the tune of Batman.
Nana nana nana nana…COP MOM!
"Callie! Did you not get enough to eat today? Because you are out to lunch," Stef scolded mildly.
She knew she was being pushy in the way she was questioning but believed Callie trusted them enough to talk to them. She'd been showing that to them all day with her willingness to communicate so she wasn't afraid to push her.
Lena must have been thinking the same because she scooted up as close as she could to them, her knees nearly meeting Callie's as their girl sat bucket style in her wife's lap, lanky legs spilling onto the bed. "Look at me, honey. Yes or no, did Val punish you for breaking her door by hitting you?"
A nod. "Yes."
"Yes or no, did she leave marks when she did that?"
Another nod.
This time, it was Stef's turn. "Yes or no, did she use an object?"
Callie let her gaze wander away before Lena's fingers guided her chin back up.
"Mom asked you a question."
"Objects."
"Yes or no, did she threaten you with a belt the next time you broke something in her home?" Stef asked. She was shaking with so much anger by this point that even her voice wasn't spared.
"Yeah," Callie eventually admitted, her words a mere whisper. "Next time."
"That is it. I am calling Bill first thing tomorrow" she huffed angrily, directing the statement at Lena without forethought as to how Callie would react. That her child had been threatened enraged her more than ever; she wanted this woman to pay for the way she had treated her.
Callie was immediately all up in arms and tearful at what she perceived as straight up betrayal. "What? No! I don't want you to tell him!"
For a moment, she had forgotten that Stef and Lena were still technically her foster parents, and consequently it'd slipped her mind that they were obliged to report any abuse disclosed to them. She resented that she'd gone out on a limb to tell them this stuff and it couldn't just stay private because legally, she wasn't part of their family yet. Plus, she'd been elated when Bill moved them from that house—she didn't want Stef to go opening that phase of their life up again. Had she been paying attention and remembered that foster parents were mandatory reporters, she wouldn't have said anything at all.
Why'd she always have to go do her cop thing? "I don't want to talk about it anymore," she added irritably, despite knowing it was too late.
Eyes widening at the abruptness with which her wife had stated her intentions, Lena went straight to damage control.
"Sweetheart, it's going to be okay, I promise. Hush—let me finish," she soothed when Callie turned to her for support and began to argue her case. "But this is not something Mom and I are going to be able to keep from Bill, you know that, right? I'm so sorry, but we really can't," she apologized, hoping that was all that would be needed to diffuse the reaction. "It's so important because if we don't say anything, then DSS doesn't have any information to stop abusive homes from operating," she explained.
"Honey…is there a reason you don't want Bill to know?" Stef asked, curious as to why Callie was getting so worked up over this. She knew from her colleagues who worked in Child Protection that it was common for children to not want to disclose mistreatment, usually out of fear of reprisal. She suspected the same was going on with her daughter; however, she wanted her to know that wouldn't happen. Not on her watch.
Callie looked up reluctantly. "What if she finds out?"
"Listen to me, love. Listen to me. Nothing can happen to you or Jude. When children move on from homes, there's no information on where they go next. She can't come find you, even if she thinks you said something," Stef reassured. She refused to lie and say that Val wouldn't find out, because technically it could happen. Any investigations with the Department of Social Services would protect the identity of complainants as much as possible, though of course Val could figure it out from the types of questions asked about Callie and Jude's placement, but the children were safe with her and Lena and she wasn't worried.
"Do you remember what school you and Jude went to when you lived there?" she asked, trying to figure out the neighbourhood the kids were in.
"Baker. In Mountain View."
"So that's very far from here, isn't it?" she asked, and Callie gave her a small smile. She knew she'd won a vote of confidence. "Was there something else?" she pressed, seeing the girl's expression flit back to uneasiness.
"But, what if me and Jude have to go back to her?"
Lena's heart sank at the reminder that the preoccupation with being sent back was still living in the background. "What do you mean, Callie? You wouldn't have to go back to her—you and Jude are being adopted," she reminded. "Adoption is forever."
Callie shook her head. She believed them based on last night. "No, I know. I meant, like…what if you guys die?"
Not having expected that, the women froze. Callie's fear made sense, given that she had lost her mother before. But it was the last thing they thought they might have to deal with. Luckily, they had each had age appropriate versions of this talk with all their children at one point or another, so they weren't completely at a loss about how to respond. This was a delicate topic, though, especially for Callie who was much older than their other kids when they'd asked this question and had actually had the experience of her mother dying.
"Well, Mama and I will die one day. Hopefully it's not something we need to worry about for a very, very long time, though," Stef began. "We're doing our best to take care of our bodies and that helps us stick around for longer. That's why Mama has me on a healthy diet and we exercise and see the doctor regularly."
Callie breathed in hard as she wiped away the tears that were clouding her eyes. Stef and Lena couldn't control everything; people died. Her mom had been perfectly young and healthy and was gone just like that. "But you can't know everything that'll happen, though," she pointed out. "What if a bad person kills you when you're at work? What if you go somewhere together without us and get into a car accident, or your plane crashes? That happens, you know."
"Callie…" Lena murmured sympathetically as she tucked in the loose strands of hair behind her daughter's ear. It wasn't difficult to see how heavily this was weighing on her. "It's true, accidents can happen, but the likelihood of both of us dying at the same time is small. You are right about that. A lot of things are out of our control, as much as that might make us uncomfortable. You can't think like that, though. It will drive you crazy."
She hesitated as she wracked her brain over the reading material Gisella had given them on complicated grief in children. But Stef, who had figured out that Callie's issue was her fear of returning to foster care and that she needed reassurance, had already beaten her to it.
"Is this something you think about often? Us dying?" Stef asked. Of course, now that Callie's fears of not getting adopted had been put to rest, her mind was working in overdrive to find the next possible way she wouldn't get to stay with them. "And where you and Jude would go if we died?"
Callie nodded. The fear had only come up after yesterday's conversation, when she realized that she saw Stef and Lena as her parents long before they'd confirmed it for her. Now that she was sure she had a family, she was afraid to lose them. "It just doesn't work out for us," she said, the statement was simple and resigned. "We don't get happy endings, me and Jude."
"Oh, baby…I'd like to think that the chance is small but even so, it makes me scared to think about it, too," Stef said, tightening her arms around the girl. "But what helps when I get worried about stuff like this is to go over our family's plan for what happens if Mama and I die."
"Like a will?"
"That's right, a will. Adoptions aren't reversible so you and Jude are included. Grams and Grandpa—my parents—would gain custody of you and your four siblings so all of you would stay together. In fact, they would move here so you could stay at the same school," Lena began to explain. "If something happened to them, then Grandma Sharon would take care of you. And she would also move here," she continued, trying to keep it as straightforward as she could.
"But...they're old," Callie replied.
"Geez, Cal, they are not old," Stef chuckled, mimicking the girl's incredulous tone. However, she understood that her daughter was alluding to a fear that they would die as well. "Honey please don't tell them that, especially not Grandma. She would be very sad. But in the unlikely event something happened to all of them, then you kids would go live with Aunt Jenna and Aunt Kelly. No matter what, you and your siblings would be together."
Catching Callie's wary expression, Lena added, "You haven't met them yet but you will soon. They live in town and we think you and Jude would like them very much once you got to know them."
They'd been trying to plan the Adoption Day celebration and Jenna and Kelly were on the invite list but with Callie unwilling to participate they hadn't been able to talk to her about it. But they couldn't wait to introduce her and Jude to their Godparents.
"So while we don't want you to worry about the details, we do want you to know that arrangements have been made so that you will be taken care of. Okay?" Stef said encouragingly before the girl could ask what if she didn't like Jenna and Kelly. They had a meeting with their family lawyer booked for the week after the adoption to update the wills.
Callie nodded. Knowing that they would be able to stay together was a relief.
"Is that why Jude and I had to go to foster care? 'Cause our Mom and Dad didn't have a will?"
Stef shared a concerned glance with Lena. According to Bill, there had been no extended family around. Colleen and Donald had also been young so it wasn't out of the ordinary that they wouldn't have had close friends who would've wanted to take on the responsibility of being Godparents.
"I think it was a little more complicated than that, baby," she said honestly, placing a kiss onto her daughter's temple. "Not everyone has one. In your Mom and Dad's case, it sounds like they didn't have family that you and Jude could go to...so they probably didn't have much of a choice." She didn't want Callie to grow to resent her biological parents. "Right? It's not so black and white. But I believe they did what they thought was best for you and Jude."
Callie swallowed before articulating the biggest worry. "What if…you guys die before we get adopted?"
"Then you and Jude get adopted by Grams and Grandpa." Not wanting the kids to be ejected back into the system, they had it arranged so that her parents would petition the court for adoption so the family would remain intact.
The girl frowned. "For real?" she asked Lena.
"Yes. For real, Callie." That part wasn't written into the will yet but she and Stef had talked to her parents when they were going through the waiting period with Jesus and Mariana, and revisited it when Callie and Jude came along to ensure the agreement between them still stood.
"So…we wouldn't have to go back to foster care?"
"Nope. You aren't going back into foster care, kiddo," Stef confirmed.
Callie's gaze flitted between the women, searching their faces to make sure it was the truth before her vision blurred. It made her feel better to know Stef and Lena had thought about everything but the thought of having to go through that again—of not having them in her life suddenly and having to start over again with people she didn't know brought on a painful, familiar ache. "I can't lose you guys. I just got you," she said quietly.
Lena held Callie's hand, massaging the chubby palm with her thumb to keep her focused while allowing her wife to speak comforting words. "Oh, Cal…you're not going to lose us," Stef began. "Even if the unthinkable happened, we'd still be with you. People you love are always with you, no matter where they may be. Love knows no boundaries."
Callie frowned, dissatisfied by what she took as a sorry attempt at reassurance. It didn't feel as though her Mom was with her like everyone kept insisting. "It's not the same," she said sadly.
The cop sighed. "I know it's not. It's not fair," she clarified. In no way did she want to suggest that the situation Callie was in today, where she had to grow up without her birth parents, was in any way acceptable. Because it wasn't. Callie and Jude didn't deserve for their childhoods to have been casualties of a negligent decision by their Dad. "We would all choose to have the people we love with us over a memory of them."
Callie pulled on Stef's forearms again as she leaned back. "I miss my Mom," she said quietly, wondering if the women would resort to empty condolences to try and make her feel better. Like, it'll get easier with time. Or, she's in a better place.
"No doubt you do, love. She sounds like an amazing woman." Stef planted a kiss onto her daughter's cheek before she could squirm out of her hold.
"I'm happy I found you guys, though," Callie said to Lena, giving her a sad smile.
"We're happy we found you, too, Callie. More than you'll ever know."
A/N: I'm so relieved that Callie is at a place where she can be open and honest with Lena, and look forward to developing this as the status quo and giving her more of a voice. So much of her character has been internalized until now that I'm curious about how readers are hearing her.