Author Note:

Another fun chapter to write. Ups and downs and growing (so much growing!) in between. Thanks to theypreferthetermpeople for quality control and finessing ideas around Lena's role :)

Someone asked about a spin-off in the last update. I won't be attempting another long fic again, but there are a few short stories set in the IUW world that are currently in the works as well as a couple requests I've begun to delve into. I won't stop writing anytime soon.

As always, thanks for the support and happy reading. ~b

Chapter 46: Turning Over a New Leaf

The next month saw the family settle into a new routine, with some changes to their lives more imposed than others. Callie had gotten off lightly for her troubles at school, giving them all peace of mind. Attendance reports now had to be submitted weekly to Juvenile Justice and meetings with her Probation Officer were bi-weekly, rather than monthly, occurrences. Stef could attend as long as she didn't interfere and she intended to go to every single one to show Callie that her family was behind her.

There was another reason for her presence, however, and that was to make a point to the Juvenile Parole Board. Because reliable support was linked to a decreased likelihood of recidivism, she hoped Callie's PO could eventually be convinced to put forth a recommendation that the length of sentence be reduced. With this goal in mind, Stef was keeping close tabs on how her daughter interacted with him.

But in spite of her involvement, she and Lena remained apprehensive about how the frequent meetings were affecting Callie. As each appointment drew closer, Callie would become noticeably more worried and fluctuate between completely withdrawing and becoming exceedingly clingy. Afterwards, she seemed to revert to old ways—sullen, hardened, and inaccessible—perhaps regressing because those experiences shook her confidence about being able to stay out of juvie; it was her way of preparing to go back. Then, after a couple of days, she would return—meek, anxious for their approval, and scared to be separated from them.

The shift in Callie's sense of security had been remarkable. As her trust in their love and commitment to her and Jude developed, anxiety gradually receded into the shadows, giving their relationship room to evolve. She happily participated in discussions of Adoption Day plans and spent more time around the rest of the family. Most nights, she helped Lena cook dinner. That one-on-one time was a surefire way to get her to open up about her day and she was always filled with pride about the meal she'd helped prepare when they all sat down. She played as a kid should, tearing around the yard with Jesus and Jude, making up games and climbing trees, resulting in scrapes and bumped heads on more than one occasion. She talked more, initiating conversation with increasing frequency and surprising them with the new ways she would let them in.

Sure, Callie would act up and there were still many times she and Stef were at each other's throats. However, she seemed more comfortable, as though she finally grasped the safety of knowing she had their unconditional love. She challenged them relentlessly, which they welcomed because they didn't want her to just come to heel. She would put up a fight whenever she earned a consequence before acceptance set in, then move on once reassured they were okay before the entire cycle repeated itself. Like most teenagers, she thrived within their limits despite complaints about not being allowed to do anything

But most importantly, she was reacquainting herself with her life before foster care and what her old family had looked like. Doing so appeared to help put a face on what exactly had been lost, and Callie talked about it as if finally allowing herself to wade into her grief.

One thing that seemed to have encouraged her in opening up was the return of her and Jude's possessions. Stef and Lena made sure to go slowly and split things up to avoid having it become too overwhelming. Freshly debugged stuffed animals were offered, but not pushed. Board games joined the shelf that housed other family favourites, as did books and family photos. Everything had its own place so they would be accessible. Things that held sentimental value like mementos from when they were born, or documentation like birth certificates, health and school records, and Donald's information at the men's correctional facility were tucked away with important paperwork belonging to the rest of their children: on a top shelf in an upstairs closet away from prying fingers. The staggered process, which Dr. Wiseman had recommended as a way to help Callie and Jude bridge their previous life with the one they had today, had unfolded exactly how the clinician had predicted it would. Three other children in the house had posed a challenge of sorts to ensuring the siblings had the option of going through their things alone. It wasn't that Jesus, Mariana, and Brandon were nosy or trying to be bothersome; as children, they were simply curious about the influx of new books and toys and eager to give support in the way they knew how. Eventually, the den was designated a quiet space Callie and Jude could go to if they wanted privacy to look at their things. For a while, both of them avoided the room altogether. But some days later, even though Callie had declared she was too old for CandyLand, they found her and Jude—bellies pressed to the carpet—giggling softly over the game, learning how to be carefree with each other again all over again.

"Whoa…" Callie murmured at the photo of herself as a baby. She still couldn't believe Bill had saved everything and they had a family that was okay with them keeping it all.

"Can I see?" Jude asked. This had quickly become his favourite part of their routine. Each day, he and Callie joined the Moms in the family room. On school days, it was after dinner and before bedtime snack; on weekends, like today, it was always after breakfast. Stef and Lena would bring in a stack of photos and they'd sit on the floor around the ottoman and sort through them together. "That's you," he said when it made it over to him and Stef.

"Oh, kiddo. Look at you!" Stef gushed as she looked over the boy's shoulder. "You were such a little peanut." Callie looked no more than three months old; she was sitting in her bucket seat, Colleen and Donald crouched beside her beaming at the camera.

"And look at that hair," Lena chimed in. As an infant, Callie had a full head of hair that was dark, a blue-black. Never would she have expected it to lighten and turn brown.

Stef nodded. "You practically have a combover."

"Where are you and Mom and Dad?" Jude asked. It wasn't the hospital but it didn't look like home, either; the room was empty save for a futon in the background: there was no rug, coffee table, or dining table.

"Mmm. Old apartment. We moved into a bigger place when Mama got preggo with you, like right before you were born," Callie explained, smiling. She definitely remembered looking at some of these baby photos before with her Mom. This one had a story she recalled her Mom telling her about—it'd been taken by friends after they'd gotten home from an evening out. Her Mom and Dad had been proud because she had slept through dinner and drinks.

"Where's their stuff?"

"We didn't have any yet," Callie said, getting slightly defensive. "They had to buy baby things first. But that's okay." She knew her parents were tight some months and they had to save little by little until they had enough to buy the next thing they needed. It wasn't like at Stef and Lena's, where they could buy stuff they needed without having to wait.

"Of course it's okay. You know, I ate on my bed while I was still doing my police training," Stef shared. Callie was nearing the age where she was more sensitive about what others thought of her family and she wanted to send a message that there was nothing to be ashamed of. From the photos, it was obvious that despite being poor, Colleen and Donald had succeeded in building a happy childhood for their kids. Callie spoke of her memories with fondness and Jude seemed excited to learn about things he'd been too young to remember. That was all that mattered.

She wrapped her arms around Jude as he plunked himself down on her lap after grabbing another photo from the stack. She had a soft spot for her youngest; at eight-years-old, he enjoyed physical proximity and was motivated to spend time with them without them asking. It wouldn't be long before he would be off doing his own thing with his peers and siblings, rather than his parents. So for now, she cherished this time. Even though bony knees and elbows dug painfully into her, keeping sleep elusive the nights she ended up in his bed. Even though he smelled like fruit left out in the sun no matter how on the ball they were about getting him into the bath.

"What are you doing? Was I not born yet still?" Jude demanded, waving the print at his sister. Callie was sitting on a lawnmower. He really had missed out on all the fun.

"Oh my GOSH, what are you doing?!" Lena exclaimed as she caught glimpse of the Polaroid, causing her wife to clamour for a look before Callie grabbed it.

Their daughter began to giggle. "First of all, Mama, it's not plugged in!"

"I would certainly hope not!" Stef replied in horror.

"Second of all, that's you," she said as she flicked it back to her brother. Her aim sucked and Stef caught it as it overshot the ottoman and flew to the floor. "My hair was dark but yours was really light when you were a baby."

"What?" the boy screeched, nearly ripping the print out of his Mom's hands.

"Hey hey hey. Watch those elbows, mister," Stef said disapprovingly as they jutted into her thighs when Jude pushed himself up. "Sit nicely. And we don't grab."

"Sorry," he mumbled, sheepish. "Can you lemme see, please?" he asked sweetly.

The cop ruffled his hair. "Yes. Thank you for using your manners. Let's look at it together." His excitement made her well up. What really pulled on her heartstrings was the recognition that in five years, neither Callie nor Jude had had the opportunity to have these conversations about their biological parents and what had happened to them. Theirs was the first safe place they could honour that important piece of their lives.

"That's our home at the bigger apartment," Callie explained. That was the really the only home she remembered; the last one that had felt like home before this one, anyway. "Remember the big lawn out front?" she reminded, unsurprised when Jude looked lost. "Dad's work was kinda slow and we lived on this block where there were tons and tons of apartments. So he came home one day with this lawnmower he bought off this guy so he could cut grass for easy cash. He brought it inside to fix it up, because he wasn't allowed to outside, and Mom was so mad when grease got on the floor and she slipped! But she forgave him later that week when he brought home five bills." Her Dad was never afraid or too stuck up to hustle. "He let me go with him sometimes to rake the clippings. But anyway, you were like really into cars and so Dad would put you on top and push it around so you could 'drive it,'" she said, using air quotes.

"Five bills?" Lena asked, confused. She rolled her eyes at her daughter's tone, which suggested she should know better.

"Five hundred dollars, Mama."

Stef scrutinized the cheerful photo depicting father and son. Jude was planted square on top of the motor, Michelin legs hanging over the sides and arms spread wide so he could grip the handles. A wide, gummy smile was on his face. Donald crouched beside him, one arm supporting the child's back, grinning at the camera. Now she understood where her daughter's creative streak came from. She eyed Callie, checking to see how she was doing. As much as Callie denied being close with her Dad, the photos told an opposite story of the relationship they had once had. It'd been her resentment at him for killing their mother that had driven them apart, the rift deepened by lack of visitation. Callie had obviously been very close with Colleen, which made sense because she'd been their primary caregiver. Thus far, their closeness had buffered them against ill feelings over her choice to drink heavily and get into the car with Donald.. She assumed Callie was probably conflicted, too, because she would shut down further the more photos of her and her dad emerged. One of Callie sitting on his lap, teaspoon in hand fishing for the floating tea bag. A pretend sea monster, she'd explained. Another where she stood by him holding plywood steady as he cut it on the table saw, an oversized tool belt hanging around her waist.

"Look. Here's another one of you, Jude." Stef directed his attention to a grainy, overexposed capture of him standing in front of a potty with one hand in his mouth. The photo had been taken in the hallway.

Jude slapped his palm over his face at the sight of him buck naked. "Eww! I don't have any clothes on!" He flipped it around so Callie could see, giggling when she laughed.

"You were so gross!" Callie said. This was from when their Mom had been trying to potty train Jude, using all sorts of incentives to get him to acknowledge its existence. "Mama put Froot Loops in that thing and told you to aim at them to make rainbows but you didn't get it. You picked them out and ate them every single time without going."

Grossed out by the thought of Jude eating snack food retrieved from a potty, Stef felt her stomach roll. But although she shared a mutual expression of queasiness with her wife, she had to hand it to Colleen. Evidently, Donald wasn't the only creative one in the family. "Oh, buddy...that's not supposed to be the way it works."

Jude grinned. "I was a baby, I didn't know better!" he defended.

"Obviously not but Mama did say you knew about the important things in life though, and that you knew what you wanted," his sister said. He'd been three. This was right before Mom had died and everything had changed.

"You don't look like you could have been more than three," Lena approximated before turning it over to see if she was close. The reason for Callie's silence suddenly clicking, she simply placed the photo back onto the pile, wanting to focus on being present for her child so Callie could sit with her feelings. "That was probably right around the time you two moved," she remarked quietly as she rubbed Callie's back.

"Yup." Uncomfortable with being the center of attention, the girl nodded towards the photo. "Maybe that was the universe telling us it was the start of a crappy situation."

Stef let out a dry laugh. That was another thing they had learned about Callie; often times, dry humour followed discomfort. "Maybe, sweetheart."

No one said anything for awhile. Even Jude seemed to sense his sister's need for space and he fidgeted in Stef's lap, waiting as patiently as he could.

Finally, Callie shuffled over to the ottoman on her knees to unearth a shot of a regular occurrence in their home. She showed it to Lena. "Mama cut our hair. I always moved," she admitted.

Lena chuckled at the younger version of her daughter sporting a bowl cut with crooked bangs that were a tad too long. Callie was smiling wide, showing off her gap teeth. She was grateful for this window into the children's past but the reminder of all she and Stef had missed out on also made her wistful.

"What's going on here?" Lena asked, tapping at the image of a plate that sat in front of Callie. It looked like there was a good story there.

The girl laughed. "Huh? Oh. That was Mom's best dinner." She rotated it to show Stef and Jude the creamy-looking pile. What appeared to be brown sauce was at the peak, dribbling down the side in lumps.

"Mashed potato volcanoes with sweet refried beans for rocks and lava!" Jude shouted. He wasn't sure if he remembered that because of Mom or because it was something Callie had told him about. Either way, it sounded delicious. "That's the CRATER!" he said, pointing to the very top.

Lena forced herself to school her reaction. She had not grown up with food like that. "And what are those?" she asked in a tone she hoped was more curious than judgmental as she pointed to the reddish-brown floppy strips next to the volcano.

"That's the hotdog campfire, Mama!" Callie said excitedly. The sliced up dog with special sauce was her favourite part. "The fire is Cheez Whiz and ketchup."

"A hotdog campfire with Cheez Whiz and ketchup fire," Lena repeated neutrally while freaking out inside. "Oh my. That is so...clever." She would have to make that for them one day. "Isn't it dangerous to camp near an active volcano?" she thought aloud before Stef interrupted.

"Now that is something I can cook!" Stef said enthusiastically, knowing Lena had very particular tastes in food and beliefs of what constituted real food that made it hard for her to relate to what Callie and Jude were used to eating. "Oh, there's some more stuck to this one," she said as she carefully peeled the photos apart from the first. She went slow, wincing every time the paper took the glossy ink with it. Holding it in Jude's lap, she looked over his shoulders so they could look at it together.

"That's ME! That's me and Mama!" he shrieked, immediately recognizing himself.

Colleen had him propped up by the underarms and standing on the table, facing the camera. Beside them Callie was flashing a grin through a mouthful of corn flakes. Cereal and milk splotches were everywhere and she looked quite proud of the amount of food all over the table.

Chuckling, Stef placed a kiss on his hair. "That is you and your Mama, all right. You two sure are mighty pleased with yourselves there." She flipped it over to check the date stamp. "You were just over six-months-old here. Callie, you would've been five."

"Oh my gosh, the two of you were so tiny!" Lena remarked when her and Callie's turn came to look. She held the print right up next to her daughter's face. "You look the same. A bug in the making." The button nose, mousey hair, and big brown eyes were unmistakably Callie's. She scanned the footstool, which had become a collage, to locate the prints that appeared to have been taken around the same time. One was of Jude in his highchair fisting a spoon into his mouth, captured mid-gag as Callie looked on, horrified. Another was of Callie feeding him. "There…"

Callie watched Lena as she grouped them together. Their foster moms were trying to keep this stuff organized by year; Lena eventually wanted to put them in albums. "Can I see again?"

"Of course, sweetheart." She handed them over. "I'm sure it made your Mom's heart sing that you wanted to help take care of your baby brother," she commented. She could see her daughter getting worked up as Callie went quiet and a flush spread across her cheeks, usually signs that things were deteriorating.

"Yeah. It was like my favourite thing to do." The girl sighed as memories flooded back. "Mom didn't have enough milk to keep Jude full so the health clinic nurse said it was okay to give cereal. Pablum," she said proudly as she recounted the story for them.

"How come baby food is called pablum?" Jude asked curiously.

"Not sure, bubba," Stef replied, wondering if the distraction had been helpful in diffusing some of Callie's upset. "That's just what baby cereal is called."

"It comes from the Latin root word for foodstuff," Lena clarified. "Pabulum."

"Oh…" Not an interesting an answer as he'd hoped it would be, Jude turned to his sister. "Did I like it?"

"Mm, I think so. You couldn't eat very well then. But the nights got quieter." Callie paused, relishing in the memories. It'd been hard to have a sibling come along when she had had her parents to herself for so long. Jude had taken up so much of her Mom's time and energy…it was only when he'd go to bed that they would get time together. Just them, and it was special because it was like before. Some days it felt like the evening would never come but her Mom would always come through, reading a chapter from a book or singing her to sleep.

Callie swallowed, trying to get rid herself of the tightness in her throat. Damn. She really did miss her. She'd give anything to have her back, even if it meant never meeting Stef and Lena. It wasn't the same.

"Where are you off to, love?" Stef asked, giving her wife a concerned look as Callie scrambled up off the floor in a hurry. She had known it was coming—that her daughter was approaching the end of her patience—but hadn't expected her interest to have disappeared all of a sudden like that.

Lena reached out for Callie, who flinched her arm away a little more roughly than she needed to, given that she had barely touched her.

"To my room. I gotta get ready for my PO meeting," the girl replied as she made her exit.

Stef opened her mouth to say something; the meeting was still a few hours away and the office was a short drive away. She stopped herself, deciding things would be better off if she didn't challenge her. Callie was shutting the door on her emotions because it was too much to deal with; they needed to grant her the space to do that. "Okay. Alright," she conceded as she and Lena got up to follow. "Your outfit is laid out on your bed. It's been ironed so please be careful," she said as neutrally as she could manage as she saw Callie's face darken.

Realizing Moms had came with her to the landing, the girl quickly wiped her eyes. Why'd they have to be on her for every little thing?

"Why can't I just wear my normal clothes?" she challenged, sulking over not being able to choose her clothes.

"Because we want you to look extra nice, just like you do every time you meet with your PO," Stef said honestly.

Her wife's approach was a bit softer. "Honey, you look absolutely sweet in it," Lena tried to placate without giving her room to complain.

Callie rolled her eyes and scowled. "The pants are itchy and I hate those meat curtains on the top," she said rudely, smirking when both women's mouths dropped open.

Lena sighed. Callie had brought up several times about how uncomfortable she found the dress pants but she had had them altered and knew they fit fine. Comparing the frills on the front of the blouse to labia was one she hadn't heard before, though. "Are you going to take a shower so you don't need to do it tonight?" Lena tried redirecting.

"Um, sure..." Callie mumbled. To be honest, she hadn't planned to. She'd just wanted to be alone. But she could always run the water and sit on the floor.

"Okay. Go up and get started. I'll be up shortly to give you a hand."

Tears threatened to spill over her interrupted plans to have time by herself. "Seriously? I said I don't need help!" she said indignantly, putting her hands on her hips. Lena hadn't even given her a choice. "Mama!" Ever since she'd gotten sick, they were punishing her for it—and she was so over it.

"Sweetheart, I'm only trying to keep you healthy—" Lena soothed, cupping the girl's cheeks in her palms. She felt for her child but after a recent urinary tract turned kidney infection that had sent her to Children's, she was more concerned with preventing a repeat than with her feelings. Callie was still on antibiotics for it.

"UGH. I know how to take care of myself!" Callie argued, getting increasingly worked up as she pulled away from Lena for the second time. "I'm thirteen!" She could do it without them hovering in her personal space and reminding her how to wash her body. "You guys are there like every day. Should I be worried?" she sassed. She bit her lip, regretting the words she'd chosen when she understood how it'd come out.

"Careful with that attitude, sweetheart." Stef's voice was deadly quiet, reminding her daughter she was on thin ice.

But Callie could not help but run her mouth. "Whatever. It's...it's inappropriate." She knew she was pushing her luck but wasn't at all happy with Lena right now.

Butterflies in her stomach took flight when Stef came and stood before her, a gesture she knew meant she had gone too far. Feeling the woman's hand on her shoulder, she let out a grumble of annoyance before looking up.

"It's like every day, Mom," she ground out, trying hard not to huff in frustration. Her chest was still a knot of anger.

Stef shook her head in disappointment. "I know it must feel that way to you but it is not every day, and the only thing that's inappropriate is you insinuating there's more going on to Mama and I helping you. You know very well that is not true, and that is definitely not okay, Callie," she reprimanded. Knowing it was uncomfortable for her and worried about the possibility of their intentions being misconstrued, she and Lena always made sure to explain each step and be as minimally intrusive as they could. They encouraged her to shower in the ensuite on days they anticipated she might need more help and kept the door open, but ultimately it was up to Callie and some days she chose to use the kids' bathroom while they waited in the hallway. During those times, the door would be closed. "Words like that are not okay," she said firmly for emphasis.

Thoroughly chastened and guilty for her accusation, the girl nodded.

"Is that how we talk to Mama? Or anyone else for that matter?"

Lena suppressed a smile as their daughter nearly glued her chin to her chest at being scolded. Callie was always so daring and obstinate until Stef put her in her place.

"No."

"Apologize. Right now," the cop said sternly. "Unless you don't want to go out after your meeting…" she warned, cocking an eyebrow at the girl when it looked like she was still deliberating whether or not to do what she'd been asked.

Callie's eyes widened. She did want to go out after and she knew Stef wasn't joking when she said it would be taken away. "Sorryyyyy..." she said, slumping her shoulders as she turned to Lena. Hearing her foster mom clear her throat, she repeated her apology in a more acceptable tone. "Sorry, Mama."

"For?" Stef prompted. She was not happy with the mouthing off. "Eye contact when you're apologizing please."

"Uhm. Sorry...thatIdon'tneedhelp," Callie said quickly before trying to cut around Lena so she could bolt up the stairs.

For a second time that morning, Lena stopped her. She would let that non-apology slide, but afraid of Callie's sour mood impacting her meeting with her PO, wanted to remind her of the post-meeting incentive they were trying out with her. "Thank you, honey. I appreciate your apology. Wait, not so fast. Talk to me for a second. Is the plan still for you and Mom to stop for groceries after and to try to have a coffee date?" she said, hoping it would cheer her up at the same time. These meetings had been incredibly stressful for all of them, especially Callie.

The frown on her daughter's face immediately disappeared. "Mhm! I'm going to help pick out dinner!" she told her, brightening. "And she said, maybe we could go for a mocha. But only if I tried at the meeting," she added, quieter and with less confidence this time.

"I know you can do it, Cal. Just remember that." Lena smiled encouragingly. No doubt, Callie had the best of intentions—it was just the follow through that was the real challenge.

"Are we still gonna go shopping?" Callie asked a livid Stef as they drove past the strip mall.

Stef bit her lip, trying to decide what to do. "Mm, I'm afraid not, Cal. I'm going to take you home then go out after." She gripped the steering wheel, feeling her irritation peak as Callie slid down in her seat. Obviously, nothing they had discussed had been absorbed. Her child wanted the incentive but nothing to do with the work that went into earning it.

She was trying to be understanding, knowing how stressful it was on Callie to be on probation, robbed of a typical childhood. She had her own grievances about her daughter being on such a lengthy period of monitoring and having a middle-aged male as a PO who was clueless about how to talk to her, and was someone Callie was obviously uncertain of. But since there couldn't be anything done about it, her role was to get her daughter through unscathed.

"We always go out to the store after, though," Callie pointed out. The opportunity to focus on something mindless after seeing her PO was what got her through the meetings in the first place.

"Callie…" Stef sighed in exasperation. Now her daughter was just pushing her buttons. Callie's behaviour during the meeting had been nothing short of reprehensible and she was appalled that she would even dare to ask about a reward.

"I answered all of his questions like I was supposed to! I did what you said," Callie defended, tone bordering on a whine as the lump in her throat grew. She had a suspicion why Stef was bringing her straight home: because she didn't want to hang out with her.

"I know you answered his questions, I heard you," Stef said curtly. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her sarcasm at bay and refraining from reaming out her kid. "It's about how you answered them. I know you know that the way you went about answering the questions was not acceptable. At all." Her daughter had been rude, defiant, and uncooperative with her PO—most of their interaction was spent with him trying to get through his standard interview and Callie glaring at him with her arms crossed. Their daughter, who nowadays usually had quite a lot to say to them, had been filled with 'I dunnos' and 'nopes,' and 'what's it to yous?'

Without her offering much substance, she hadn't taken up the allotted hour-long time slot. They'd made it fifteen minutes before her PO dismissed it as a lost cause. Stef had been mortified, in the way all parents were when their children acted as the worst possible versions of themselves, usually at the most inopportune of moments.

Callie curled up her legs onto the seat and looked out the window. To be honest, she'd forgotten Stef had been in the room until she turned around to leave his office when dismissed. It was then she realized that she was probably in deep shit with her foster mom.

"We always go after," she mumbled petulantly, angry that Stef had gone back on her word. She wasn't sure what she was trying to do here; she knew there was no way the cop would change her mind.

"Did you not hear anything I just said?" the woman snapped. Her patience at this point was shot. "I am not taking you anywhere right now. The deal was that you needed to try for us to go out together. What you did in there? Not. Trying." It hurt her heart to take away something Callie had been looking forward to, but maybe this would teach her to take things more seriously next time.

"I'm disappointed in you, Cal." Stef blew out a breath as the girl simply stared out the window, frustrating her with her silence.

"You're mean," Callie eventually said with a whisper. She chewed her bottom lip at the admonishment, not wanting to cry. Stef was picking on her for every little thing today. Today's meeting with her PO was no different than how they usually went. Plus, that hadn't been their rule, anyway. Trying was supposed to get her a coffee date. Going shopping didn't have conditions. Not trying in her meeting shouldn't have disrupted their routine of doing groceries together.

She'd disappointed her mom enough that the woman didn't want anything to do with her for the rest of the afternoon. Perseverating on this thought as the streets became more familiar as they approached home, she became more and more aggravated. By the time they were pulling into the driveway, all she wanted to do was to get away from Stef and hide in her room. Knowing it would irritate the cop, she unclicked her seatbelt and hopped out to bolt into the house without waiting for the car to stop. She stormed in the front door, which had been left unlocked, and had just finished locking the deadbolt to keep Stef out when Lena came downstairs.

"Back so soon?" Lena had just gotten Jude started on homework upstairs after cleaning up from breakfast and was looking forward to some quiet time with the paper when she had heard the door slam. "Does Mom need help with the groceries?" she questioned, surprised to see her daughter on the verge of crying.

"We didn't get to go, okay?" Callie exploded as the dam finally burst, giving way to angry tears that rolled down her face.

"Oooh, baby girl. I'm sorry," Lena soothed as she rushed over, arms open and ready to give the girl a hug. She knew Callie was disappointed, given how much she looked forward to accompanying them on errands, but also understood the meeting probably hadn't gone as well as she and her wife had hoped if the promise of going out had been rescinded. "Come here…"

Over the last month, she had noticed a significant shift in her relationship with Callie. Now, whenever Callie was in trouble with Stef, she would approach her as if seeking comfort and protection. She never tried to split them, but instead would articulate her frustrations with the cop and recount what had lead up to their disagreement. It had actually been a relief for both of them when this started happening because it meant it wasn't all on Stef to relay the details before they spoke with her.

The cop came in a few minutes later, even more frustrated by the delay in having to contend with being unexpectedly locked out. "How many times have I told you? You are not to undo your seatbelt until we are parked. And you are certainly NOT to jump out while the car is moving!" She pointed to the door, exasperated by all the button pushing Callie had done today. "As for this, I'm going to pretend that you did not just lock me out, because that is plain disrespectful and uncalled for."

Not interested in being lectured anymore, Callie scrambled out of Lena's arms and stalked off towards the landing.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, young lady."

Callie froze, her feet wanting to move but her head telling her she needed to listen because her mom was already so mad at her. Conflicted, she took another step forward before withdrawing her foot. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Stef's fingers snap loudly.

"Right here. Now," the cop ordered. She pointed to the floor in front of her, even though her heart ached to see Callie startle in fear of the sound—another residual effect of these meetings.

Callie rolled her eyes before turning around and reluctantly moving closer to her mom even though she didn't want to. Nervous feet shuffled in place as Stef cupped her cheeks in her palms, tilting her head to force her to look up at her. "I have had enough of this behaviour," she said firmly, her patience fraying along with her nerves. Her exasperation softened at seeing fresh tears spill. "Callie. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"You have to be on my side. Not his! He—he's not a nice person!" Callie defended tearfully. Her PO used to repeatedly tell her that it would just be a matter of time before she ended up back in juvie and that he'd be the one to send her back. That he didn't think it'd take too long because she was incorrigible. She was too cocky and her future, according to him, was bleak. He was the enemy and Stef was basically telling her to suck up to him.

Stef scoffed loudly. "I am not taking his side, but you weren't even trying in there, kiddo!" She was at a loss as to how to explain to Callie that she was in a situation where she had to be strategic to get what she wanted. That there was a…culture

"Cal! You know how it is. It is not the PO's job to be nice to you. He will push you and say things you don't like to try to get a reaction out of you, and to see what you're doing to better yourself. Your job is to say yes sir and to ask what else you can be doing and how quickly. To participate and show you are concerned about this situation you are in. Instead, you were being rude. Incredibly rude!" Callie knew how to play the game; she'd been incarcerated before. "Have you forgotten what juvie was like? Huh?"

"It doesn't matter! He's gonna think what he always thinks 'cause he's already made up his mind about me!" Callie retorted, fists at her sides.

"Then I want to see you work twice as hard to give him reasons to change his mind about you! We have talked about this over and over again, Callie. Why are you continuing to argue over this? Why do you continue to act up in your meetings? What is causing you to make this more of a struggle than it has to be?" she demanded. A frown formed at her daughter's silence.

"Because. He's stupid!" Callie exploded, enunciating out of sheer annoyance.

If it was possible to shake the attitude right out of someone, Stef would've tried. "I am not going to stand here and get into it with you about whether or not your PO is stupid. That is irrelevant—right now this is about you and you alone," she scolded, raising her voice. "This guy holds all the power to change things in your situation, Callie. You need to keep him happy to get what you want."

Callie crossed her arms in defiance. That was the last thing she was interested in doing; sure, she wanted to get through her probation, but with her dignity intact. She wasn't going to suck up to him. That her foster mom would suggest that was insulting.

"NO. I won't! Because I don't CARE!" Shouting morphed easily into an insolent scream.

"What is wrong with you?!" Stef snapped, beyond frustrated at this point. She really didn't understand her daughter. Did she want to go back?

Callie wiped her eyes, hating that fights with her moms never failed to make her cry. "Nothing's wrong with me!" she retorted, slightly hurt by the question. "Why are you so worried about my meetings? It's none of your business." That was how they usually went and she really didn't get what the big deal was. At first, when she had learned she had more visits and that Stef would be going with her, she had been happy she wouldn't have to do it alone. But she hadn't anticipated getting picked on for every little thing. If that was how Stef was going to behave, then she didn't want her there. "If that's how you're going to act towards me after each meeting then you're not allowed to come anymore! If you hadn't started showing up then you wouldn't even know how it is!"

Stef had to laugh at that one. "Unfortunately, my coming in with you is not your decision to make." Callie's reasoning was precisely why she needed to be there. "Look, honey. You don't just flout the rules because Mama and I are not there. We are raising you to be better than that. You act right regardless of where you are or who you might be with because it's the right thing to do. That's final."

"That's not fair! I didn't ask you to!" Callie argued.

"Well it's a good thing we don't wait for our children to give us permission to do what's right," the woman said snarkily, not missing a beat. It was about time she set this kid straight. "Hey! This conversation is not over!" she said as Callie started to walk away again.

The girl smirked. It was over—because she wasn't gonna just stand around and listen to this crap.

"Do not even think about taking another step," Stef warned.

Callie purposely did just that before whipping around. "Well I am! 'Cause I'm gonna take these FUCKING meat curtains off me before anyone else decides to screw me today," Callie snapped as she grabbed the frills on her blouse and held them open, knowing the vulgar language would bug her mom to no end. She hated those things. They flapped around and made her arms itch whenever they brushed up against them.

Lena had to work to keep her composure intact, having learned the best thing to do was to pay no attention to her daughter. At thirteen, she would do anything she could think of for shock value. But unfortunately, most of what she came up with never failed to completely scandalize Stef.

"That is it. That is IT! I am this close to washing your mouth out with soap, young lady!" Stef said, her voice rising along with her blood pressure at the words that left her sweet child's mouth.

Callie scrutinized her foster mom, trying to determine if she was bluffing. "Go ahead!" she challenged when she decided Stef was full of crap. "I'll just spit it out!" she yelled.

Afraid of what other empty threats her wife might come up with if Callie kept being lippy to push her buttons, Lena tapped their daughter on the arm. "That's quite enough. You are walking a thin line and need to stop," she said firmly. "No one is getting their mouth washed out with soap," she added in case any clarification was needed, glaring at Stef before turning back to Callie. "You may go upstairs to calm down and we will have a talk after."

"Fine!" Callie yelled as she ran upstairs. She'd pay for it later but right now she couldn't stand to be around either of them. No matter how wrong Stef was, Lena always took her side.

Stef winced as a door slammed. Surely, this child was bent on giving her a coronary. "That attitude is awful Lena, just awful, and we are going to nip it in the bud."

"By washing her mouth out with soap? Really, Stef?" Lena asked, levelling her wife with an unimpressed look.

"Can I?"

"No! Of course you can't! Have you lost your mind?"

"Well, I could tryyy," Stef pointed out, knowing she probably shouldn't have issued a threat she had no intention of carrying out. "She did say she would just spit it out." At least Callie was honest.

Lena shook her head. "You two." Stef and Callie were both hotheaded; their attempts at communication while frustrated was akin to pouring gasoline over a smouldering fire.

"What? How are you mad at me, too?" she asked Lena impatiently when she realized she wasn't going to get any sympathy from her, either.

"She really wanted to go out with you after the meeting, babe. That's probably why she was so upset," she said gently.

Stef stared open-mouthed, incredulous at the suggestion. "Lena, did you really think I was going to take her after how she behaved? Maybe she will put in some more effort into being respectful next time."

Lena smiled sadly at Stef. "Perhaps. But you didn't tell her that, did you? You only established that you were willing to let her have a coffee provided she tried at her meeting. Groceries weren't up for bargaining, so you changed the rules on her after you two left." She wasn't trying to criticize, only trying to explain why she thought Callie had been so upset. "Have you thought about it being the only thing Callie might have been looking forward to today? Spending time with you?"

"Well, no," Stef admitted slowly, wracking her brain on the conversation she and Callie had had in the car en route home. "But she knows exactly why I didn't take her out. We talked about it."

"Does she?" Lena asked, not bothering to hide her skepticism. "Or does she think you only want to hang out with her when she's doing what you want her to do?"

"Of course not," Stef refuted before trailing off. Lena was right, of course; it was more than likely that Callie had come to a conclusion like that. Grudgingly, she accepted her wallet and car keys from her wife, getting the message she was being sent away.

"I'll go talk to her," Lena reassured. She gave her wife a quick kiss. "As for you, maybe doing the shopping will give you some time to think about how you're going to explain things to her."

By the time dinnertime came and went, Stef was desperate to reconcile with Callie. She had approached her after she had returned home, but the girl hadn't been keen to engage and instead steered clear of her.

Stef decided to try just once more before bed, knowing it was best not to push if her daughter wasn't interested in talking. But she really hoped that wasn't the case because she missed Callie. Her heart sank as she climbed the stairs and she saw that all the lights were out on the second level.

"Cal? You still up, Bug?" the woman said quietly as she peered inside the girl's room. "Where are you?" she asked, noticing the empty bed.

"Here, Mom," she heard her daughter say. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she made out Callie's form, straddling the open window, iPhone in hand. It'd been returned a week ago; needless to say, she'd been thrilled.

"What are you doing?" the cop managed, keeping her voice neutral so as to not raise Callie's ire when her daughter craned her head further out the window, stabilizing herself with one hand while the other pointed the phone up to the sky. "Honey, you're really making me nervous," she admitted, grateful for the pitch black of the room to mask the hand that'd flown to her heart.

"Looking at Ursa…Major..." The reply came as Callie tried to make it out on the screen. "Well, the bear head, anyway." Most of the constellation was obscured by the side of the house. Finding Stef beside her and waiting open-palmed, she took the hand expecting hers and hopped down before handing the phone to her foster mom. The stargazer app that automatically mapped out and identified constellations was still open.

"Oh, wow. This is pretty neat. Nice find!" Stef said when she panned the camera out the window and it picked up Orion and Sirius. "There's the hunter and his dog."

Ever since Callie's goal of backyard camping had come up during the first family session, it'd been all their daughter could think of, apparently. She had tried not to get her hopes up but once she and Lena had started making plans, Callie's excitement had grown.

Callie shrugged. "Can't see it all," she said, shoulders sagging in discouragement.

"Should we go test it out in the yard?"

The girl jumped up, unable to hide her eagerness. "Really? We can do that?" Still having to ask Stef and Lena whenever she wanted to go outside, she had stopped altogether. As promised, she was always allowed, but she'd have to wait for them to finish up whatever they were doing and by then, she would usually find something else to do.

"Of course. Why not?" Flicking on the light, she rummaged through Callie's drawers to find a long sleeved shirt that looked clean. "Here. It'll protect you from mosquitos." She crumpled it into a ball and threw it at Callie's head, laughing as the girl struggled to wiggle into them and fought with the hem so it'd stop riding up.

"What, Mom?"

Stef cleared her throat, surprised by the tears pricking her eyes as she took in the fact that the cuffs on her daughter's pyjama pants were at least two inches too short. The material was so stretched at her calves that the smiley face print was distorted.

"You're growing, baby girl," she replied, feeling emotional that Callie was finally healthy enough to approach average size for a kid her age.

Without a cloud in the sky, it was the perfect night for constellations. Callie marvelled as they found ones she hadn't been able to see from her window, and Stef found peace in her daughter's joy at doing something she hadn't had the chance to before. Having deemed the app good enough for one that was free and having exhausted all the star patterns visible that night, she finally had the courage to broach the conversation that had been weighing on her all day.

"Come, hop up," she said, patting her thigh.

"I'm too big," Callie grumbled, although she started to take her new mom up on the offer.

"Hush. You are not," Stef lied, groaning as she took on her teenager's full weight, gangly limbs and all. Callie was definitely a few pounds heavier than when she'd last lifted her. Perhaps getting sick and the resulting scrutiny from doctors and family alike, had been good for her.

"How is your body feeling these days, love? Be honest with me." She and Lena had learned just how much active encouragement their daughter still required to communicate with them when she was unwell—something they'd thought was behind them since it hadn't been the first time Callie had been sick while living with them.

Oh, how wrong they had been. Callie hadn't been forthcoming with them about her symptoms, and by the time they learned the full extent of what had been going on—fever raging and appetite wiped—she no longer had the stamina to hide how she felt any longer. Even though it had quickly became clear that it was more than a cold, it was the beginning of Callie becoming more ill than they had ever seen.

"You need to tell us if something hurts, okay?"

Callie let herself melt into her foster mother, happy for the closeness. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was getting so sick."

Grateful for the communication, the cop hugged Callie tighter. "That's why you need to tell us as soon as anything feels off," she said. Her daughter nodded, nuzzling her head against her chest.

"I feel okay…not a hundred percent, maybe like eighty? My back still hurts. And I get tired easy. I wish I didn't have to take that medicine anymore."

"I know, baby," Stef acknowledged. Callie had made her feelings about the antibiotics quite clear. She pressed a kiss on the brown curls, considering how lucky Callie was to escape permanent damage to her kidneys.

"I owe you an apology, sweetness," she said after a pause, deciding to change the subject. "I know how stressful it's been, having more visits with your PO. And I haven't been as patient or respectful of that as I should be…" After much reflection, she recognized she needed to do more to avoid making harder what was already a pressured situation.

Callie shrugged awkwardly as she fingered the hem of her top. "You weren't there before. You can't just show up now and butt in," she eventually said, admitting to some of the resentment she held towards Stef for what she saw as intrusiveness and the expectation that came with it for her to change.

The woman blew out a quiet breath; that hurt each time Callie pointed it out because she would've been there had she been a part of Callie's life earlier. That hadn't been a choice, though. Telling her that wouldn't help; it wasn't what the girl was looking for. "You're right, I wasn't," she validated. "And believe me, I know it's an adjustment. All of a sudden someone else is there telling you what to do."

"Yeah," Callie agreed.

"You know that I need to be there though," Stef asserted. Whether her child liked it or not, she needed to do what she felt was best for her. "I'm sorry, but that part isn't negotiable. It's not going to be like this forever, I promise."

Callie sighed. It was hard to have a parent in the room but better than being alone. "I just don't like it when you get mad at me because of what I do in my meeting," she said truthfully. She resented being treated like a child.

Stef turned Callie's hand so it was palm up and began to massage it from her wrist to the fingertips, something she had seen a pediatrics nurse do that calmed her right down. "You get in trouble at home when you act up at school; how is this different?" she questioned. Callie fell silent, letting her know she'd gotten her point across.

"I've tried to think about why I tend to be so upset after these meetings…and I think it's because Mama and I see you as such a kind, amazing kid, and we want everyone else to know that too. We have such high hopes for you, Cal. It's not fair but we still expect you to be on your best behaviour."

She paused, deliberating how she wanted to phrase this. "I don't believe that one bad chapter in your life means it's the end of your story, just like it shouldn't be for anyone else. But as much as you might not like it, your PO has all the power right now to call the shots. So we really need you to try. Don't be messing around in your meetings. Don't let this one bad chapter ruin your story," she urged.

"Okay, Mom."

Stef smiled. Hearing Callie call her that never got old.

"I do remember what it was like to be in juvie…" Callie said after some time. She had been repeating some of the things Stef had said while reaming her out after the meeting. "I just…sometimes, I don't want to remember or think about everything," she conceded. "It's nice to forget it happened."

Stef nodded in understanding. Although her daughter had never shared much about what her experience in juvie had been like, she had no doubt that it'd been traumatic. "I get that, my love. It's a good thing—a very good thing—to let yourself forget," she said, holding Callie tight. Of course her daughter wanted to move on. Realistically, while the scars would remain a permanent fixture, breaks were a way for her brain to rest so she could heal. That Callie was able to identify her needs meant she was growing and trying to move on.

"I—I didn't mean to make you feel bad by dredging up a time in your life you'd rather forget about, Cal. I'm sorry," she apologized. "You didn't need me to bring that back into your life. That was uncalled for."

There was a culture in secured facilities about how inmates should be treated and how they needed to act to survive. That was a big part of why Callie had acted the way she had with her PO—it stemmed from what she had learned to do to keep safe—and to keep going. She was going through the motions of what she was used to.

Callie shrugged."I'm mad at you," she admitted, looking down. "We always do something together after my meeting but then you couldn't wait to dump me at home because you were mad. You didn't want me around." She dared not whine but had to get it off her chest.

Stef shifted the girl slightly on her knee so that they could face each other. "You mean the trip to the store?" she clarified, mentally kicking herself as a slow nod confirmed her wife's earlier hypothesis. "I'm so sorry, baby. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to make you feel as though I didn't want to spend time with you because I was upset with you." She paused, realizing she should've seen this coming. Lena had been right; she'd been so disappointed by Callie's behaviour that she felt compelled to take something else away that Callie looked forward to, on top of losing her incentive. "I was so wrapped up in trying to make a point that I didn't consider your feelings when we came home straight away instead of doing errands together like we always do. It wasn't even on my radar, because I had made it more about me than you, and that was wrong," she elaborated, wishing her explanation was better.

"S'okay."

No, not really, but I hope you'll always be this forgiving, sweets. I will be more clear with my communication going forward." She planted a kiss on her daughter's cheek. "You know…Mama and I are learning how to be your Moms just as much as you are learning to accept us as your parents. Mistakes and messiness are going to be a part of that process, I guess."

Callie just stared. Hearing an adult tell her that they made mistakes was new.

"What was that?" Stef asked in surprise as the phone started vibrating and her daughter snatched it right out of her hand. "Wha—who is calling you at midnight?"

"No one, Mom! It's a reminder," Callie insisted. Why was her mom so damn nosy? "I don't want to show you!"

Stef stared, unconvinced. Her daughter looked guilty. "I think you don't want to show me because you know you're about to get a reminder from me. Hand it over," she said sternly. She knew it'd been a mistake to return the device so soon. Eyes burned when Callie obliged and she attempted to focus against the bright backlight of the screen. "Oh, honey. Is that all that's left now?" she breathed, a lump forming in her throat at the description of the alarm Callie had set.

'T minus 31 days til forever fam.'

Feeling somewhat self-conscious that her excitement had been discovered, Callie shrugged. "Yeah." She was still uncomfortable to acknowledge the adoption too much, afraid that somehow, doing so might jinx things.

"That's only one more month," Stef pointed out. While she sensed the reason behind her daughter's shyness, she also didn't want anxiety to cheat Callie out of being able to look forward to this. "Can you say it with me?" she asked as the girl nodded.

"One more month," Callie said, unable to help herself from grinning wide as she chorused along with her mom.