Author Note:

I let this chapter sit awhile after its last edit, partly because of anxiety around posting but also because I had higher hopes for it. After giving it another read, it now feels right. A few places were sticking in earlier drafts but they've been smoothed out. Thank you to theypreferthetermpeople for working on it.

A reread of Chapter 49 might be helpful for continuity's sake. The events both unfold over the same day (previous chapter happened in the morning; this one in the evening).

I don't think I appreciated the strides Callie had made in this story until I started drafting short stories set before IUW began. Now that Callie has a voice, it's hard to take it away to have her return to the more reserved, internalizing version of herself we saw early on. Such is resilience!

As always, thank you for the support and happy reading. There's a small time jump ahead for the next and what will be the final chapter. ~b

Chapter 50: A Fresh Perspective

Sleep evaded Callie that night as she kept going over the fight she'd had with her soon-to-be-adoptive Moms earlier in the day. It'd been awhile since she had used the fact they weren't biologically related against them and the guilt was eating her up inside—especially knowing if Mom was still around, how disappointed she would be with the way she'd treated them. She had regretted the words as soon as they tumbled from her mouth. Sure, they hadn't given birth to her but they loved her all the same and were the best thing to have happened since entering foster care. They were her Moms, no matter what the legal documents said.

Truth be told, she had thrown that in their faces simply because she wanted to hurt them. Later in the afternoon when she overheard Lena crying in the bathroom as Stef tried to talk her down, she realized she'd succeeded in doing just that.

Callie had wanted to apologize then, but the fear of not knowing what to say—or if they would even want to talk to her—won over her best intentions. The rest of their Sunday unfolded in the same way it always did, and the predictable routine only succeeded in fueling both guilt and relief. Moms checked her homework due the upcoming week for completeness, helped organize her binder, and ensured her agenda was up to date. Her standing invitation to help Lena with dinner remained open, as was time with the rest of the family. She'd treated them horribly, yet they still wanted her.

Upon reflection, she realized Stef had been right. Lashing out about them for not being her real Moms had been a cover for wanting her own Mom. Five years had gone by since she had died and today, the loss had hit her hard. Caught in the current of grief, she had pulled her new Moms in with her, making them pay. Reaching for the drawer on her nightstand, she quietly slid it open and felt around for the broken tape. She wished it still worked so that she could at least hear the Happy Birthday message from her Mom and pretend for a moment she was alive.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Callie's mind drifted to the night police had come to their apartment. Time had eroded memories of her life together with her Mom and Dad, but details of that evening were forever etched into her mind. Her parents had gone out and left them with a friend to babysit, and she had been pulling an all nighter to guilt her Mom into never leaving them again. Jude had just been snuck away into his crib when the buzzer ringing unexpectedly jarred him awake. Time sped up with the bustle of panic, then slowed as a policewoman knelt down in front of her, introducing herself with faraway words. Calling her sweetheart and asking for her name and Jude's name. Asking if she'd been helping take of him. Then Bill had showed up, and they told her there'd been an accident and that her Mom and Dad had been badly hurt, and her Mom hadn't made it. She remembered feeling numb, unable to react, as Jude screamed—the way she wished she could, but wasn't able to.

She figured she must've fallen asleep when she saw that the time on her bedside clock had jumped ahead and her heart pounded the way it often did when she fell asleep and woke up soon after. Stef always called it a 'second wind'.

The muffled hum of the TV from downstairs told her that Moms were still awake. They usually stayed up late after everyone else was in bed to watch a show or just hang out. It was one of the reasons why after lights out, they had to stay in their beds even if they weren't going to sleep. The bathroom was an exception. But guilt gnawing at her conscience urged her to make things right and finally forced her out of bed. She took her time putting on her socks and hoodie, deliberating her apology. Wanting her Mom close, she placed the broken cassette and its curly film into her front pocket before treading softly out onto the landing. Worried that Moms wouldn't want their time alone interrupted or that they'd want a break from her after she'd been awful to them, she waffled and turned back. She froze when the floorboard creaked loudly. Not ever having to worry about making too much noise at this house, she hadn't bothered to pay attention to where not to step.

Callie held her breath as the TV muted. Soon after, Stef called up. "Need something, Miss Callie?"

Busted.

"Crap…" she whispered, kicking herself for not having an excuse prepared. She was too far down the hallway for the bathroom, but couldn't say she was hungry, either, since she'd eaten a lot of bedtime snack.

Downstairs, Stef stifled a laugh as she elbowed her wife. They could tell from the bare ankles (a result of outgrown pajamas) and nervously light footsteps that it was Callie. All their other children would run when seeking them out at night. Even Jude, who had initially been reluctant to approach them when in need of help, now rushed into their room following a nightmare. Watching Callie step backwards then stall, obviously conflicted over what to do, brought a smile to her face.

"Stef! Don't!" Lena scolded, slapping her on the arm. She wished her wife wouldn't laugh at their daughter, although she too found Callie's uncertainty over being out of bed at this hour a bit ironic given her earlier behaviour. "Honey, we know it's you. You can come down," she reassured.

"We see those big feet of yours you'll be growing into," Stef teased, earning another playful slap. Her intention was to let Callie know they weren't mad at her. Their daughter had avoided them for the rest of the day.

Eventually, Callie made her way down the steps. Shame and shyness took over, forcing eyes downcast and leaving restless feet to shuffle inwards and out as she loitered at the foot of the stairwell.

Both women sat up, their attention immediately shifting to their daughter. "What's up, Bug?" Lena questioned. It was against nighttime rules for Callie to be out of bed, but she never sent any of their children back to their rooms if they needed them. And oh, did Callie need them. Although she and Stef had reiterated that all was forgiven and tried to show they were on good terms, Callie had steered clear of them and been on her best behaviour. They figured the emotional exhaustion from being triggered of her Mom's loss was why she'd been so quiet, but they also knew the fear of rejection always lurked closeby regardless of their efforts to shoo it away. Callie still needed reminders that her place in the family was untouched.

"Baby? Something on your mind? Did you have another nightmare?" Stef asked with concern, eying her child to see if she was okay.

"Couldn't sleep."

"You want to hang out with Mama and I for a bit?" Her offer elicited a reluctant nod and for the first time since that morning, a genuine smile graced Callie's lips. "Alright. Come here, lovebug," Stef said, moving down the couch to make room. She had a feeling some coaxing would be needed to get her girl to open up.

As Callie clamoured up, Stef's attention was drawn to bruising on the back of her ankles. She winced, horrified that her child had become so enraged by a time out that she had kicked the bed frame—hard enough to leave marks. The intent had been to remove Callie from their fight, but now she wouldn't be fully comfortable leaving her alone when Callie was that upset. Noticing her daughter draw her feet up under her after following her line of sight, Stef wrapped an arm around her. "Does it hurt?" she finally asked, after Lena had straightened the blanket over them. She didn't want to make Callie feel self-conscious or ashamed, but the skin looked sore.

Her guilt intensified when Callie confirmed what she knew. "A little."

"We'll ice it first thing tomorrow," she replied, considering an alternate opportunity for them to sit down and discuss appropriate cool down techniques that didn't involve becoming physical to deal with anger. Callie nodded, and the three of them sat in silence for awhile—Callie wedged in the crook of her arm, the throw she and Lena had been sharing reconfigured to include her. Her daughter reached for her other arm, bringing it across her chest the way she always did when she wanted a hug but was too shy to ask. Stef squeezed her tight. "Better?" She cherished this side of Callie; the one that could be incredibly loving and affectionate, secure enough to seek closeness. The side of her that wasn't screaming and lashing out at them.

Callie gave another nod as she nervously chewed on her lower lip. Eventually, she found her voice. "Mo—om?"

Stef smiled at the way Callie drew the word into two syllables. "Ye—es?" she imitated, winking at her daughter.

"Never mind." It wasn't important.

Stef gave her an expectant look. She didn't believe it was nothing for a second. "Hm? You sure? You can ask us anything."

Taking a deep breath, Callie thought of what it was she wanted to know. Stef might not have an answer but there was a possibility that she did by being a cop. "Did my Mom—uhm...do you know if she died right away?"

Lena's eyes widened at the nonchalant tone behind the question. Like most children, Callie was blunt. Even more so because she had already gone through a lifetime's worth of difficult experiences. Still, Lena hadn't been prepared for morbid curiosity. She was relieved that their daughter had asked Stef; her wife had had a lot more practice dealing with sensitive topics than she did.

The cop cleared her throat. She had fielded similar questions before, though this particular one usually came from adults rather than children. She didn't have an answer though, and even if she did, would have reservations about sharing that information with Callie. It'd be a lie to say she hadn't thought of pulling up the coroner's report and downloading Donald's sentencing records. However, she always stopped herself. There was no value in doing so, and ethically? The Jacobs deserved to have their privacy respected.

"I don't know if your Mom died right away, love," she replied, careful to be honest while keeping things age-appropriate. "Why do you want to know?"

"I was just wondering, if she didn't die right away…if she knew that she was. Knew she was gonna die, I mean. And if she did know, what was she thinking of? If...she remembered Jude and me."

"Oh...my love. Is this what's been on your mind?" No wonder Callie was having trouble falling asleep. "Those are a lot of heavy questions I'm not sure anyone other than your Mom would have the answers to, honey." Shattered by seeing disappointment weigh on Callie, she held her tighter, taking her time. "But what I do know is your Mom loved you and Jude fiercely...and I think if there was anything she thought about—if there was anything she was able to think about in that moment, it was you two. Because, that's what I would be thinking of—you kids. Every last one of you,"

Another pang of guilt washed over Callie as she heard the emotion tinging Stef's voice. Her foster moms really did love her and Jude. And she loved them back.

"Mom?"

Stef smiled tightly, afraid of what her daughter might ask next. "Yes, sweetness?" she said, still on the verge of tears.

Callie fiddled with the edge of the throw. "I…I'm sorry I was horrible and said you guys weren't my real Moms. Because you are, and you didn't deserve that." She took a deep breath, needing to go on. "I was disrespectful because I was so angry I don't have her and because I missed her. But that wasn't fair to you. It's not like you made me lose her. But I'm gonna try harder to use my words in a better way next time that's not hurtful."

Lena swallowed the growing lump in her throat at the familiarity behind those words. In trying to teach Callie that they were in charge of their emotions rather than the other way around, the sentiment was one that had been reiterated over many of their conversations. She was touched and so, so proud of her daughter for remembering because often it seemed like she didn't hear her. And not only that, but Callie sounded genuinely remorseful. Having reflected, she was able to offer an explanation as well as a way to move forward. She was really growing up.

"Honey, everyone makes the mistake of saying things they don't mean from time to time, even us. It doesn't make you horrible," she said, squeezing Callie's knee in reassurance. "But thank you. I am so proud of you for apologizing and trying to make things right. It isn't easy to accept responsibility and that shows a lot of growth and maturity in my books," she praised, hoping this signalled the start of a new pattern.

"Thank you for still helping me today," Callie whispered, grateful that all felt right again.

Stef sighed inwardly. Deep down, Callie still considered time and affection as privileges that had to be earned, instead of needs everyone deserved to have met. "Listen to me. You don't ever have to thank us for that. Just because you did some things you regret doesn't mean Mama and I would ever stop helping or loving you. All is forgiven. It's not something to beat yourself up over," she emphasized. Her efforts prompted a compliant nod, though she doubted whether her point had been taken to heart.

"I get so angry inside sometimes because you weren't there for us when we needed someone," Callie admitted, sounding as foolish as she was afraid she would.

Pins and needles starting in the arm that was wedged between her daughter and the couch, Stef readjusted to keep from going completely numb. This sort of language regularly came up. Over time, she took it to mean that Callie wished they hadn't been in foster care for as long as they had. "Mama and I would've been there in a heartbeat if we could have, I promise. I'm so sorry that we weren't," she said softly.

Callie frowned, not expecting that. She didn't even know what that was, but she believed them when they said they would have come for them if it'd been possible. "I don't know why I think that. It's not your fault."

"Fault is irrelevant," Stef countered, cupping the girl's cheek. "The last few months have been a huge adjustment for you and your brother, kiddo. It's been hard. You're going to have a lot of feelings behind all of this, and every single one counts. They aren't all going to make sense and they don't have to," she continued, validating what had been shared.

"I don't gotta take that out on you and Mama, though," Callie mumbled. It wasn't fair to dump her resentment onto Moms; they didn't have any control over what had happened to them. "I always wished for a family so bad but then, it just took so long to get one. And, I guess...well, I dunno, but I guess I got used to not having anyone there for us that...now that you guys are here, it's weird getting used to that." Eyes wide at the revelation, which hadn't occurred to her until she'd spoken them out loud, she glanced at them, hoping she hadn't offended. All good, she blew out a frustrated breath. "But I don't get why, because I really want to be adopted."

Lena hummed as she followed Callie's train of thought. "You're putting a lot of pressure on yourself, honey. You can look forward to being adopted without enjoying every single aspect of it. It doesn't mean you don't want the adoption." The look of confusion on Callie's face told her the concept had surpassed comprehension, but acknowledgment that the process of getting adopted was complicated was important.

"Mama's right," Stef interjected. "Transitions are hard. But do you know what the silver lining is?"

"No."

"Well, usually when things get difficult and messy, it means you're sorting through it. You're reacting to what's new and different, working with it and adapting—growing as a result. So as much as we might not like change, it's how we grow."

"But I don't want things to be so different," Callie said, her voice breaking. "I don't want to forget my Mom."

Stef nodded supportively. A few months ago, the relationship between those two statements would hkave thrown her for a loop, but now it made sense. "Are there some things that have changed that you think might make you forget your Mom?"

Her daughter's sadness was palpable. Somewhere along the way, Callie had made it her duty to carry on her mother's memory, not only for herself but for Jude. Now, the pressure had become overwhelming.

Emotion bubbling at the realization she'd never shared this fear with anyone before, Callie shrugged. She hadn't planned on it, but as usual, her Moms knew exactly what to say to get her to crack.

"Are you sure you can't think of anything?" Stef pushed, deciding her daughter needed a bit of encouragement. She figured Callie probably did know, but hadn't admitted the truth to anyone before.

"I dunno. I feel like if I keep changing—like, the more I get used to you and Mama, and our life together in this home...if we keep getting closer, then you'll replace her because I won't think of her as much. And that's how I'll forget her. I'll lose her again because she's already hard to remember, I've already forgotten her." Tears pooling and afraid to continue, she pressed her face flush into Stef's side.

"It's scary—very scary—when you can't remember everything you want to about your Mom. No one wants to forget things about someone who was special to them," Stef murmured as she stroked Callie's hair. "But sweetness, you won't ever forget her. Remembering your Mom doesn't mean stopping yourself from doing what you enjoy or keeping yourself from loving others or having other relationships. It doesn't mean you stop living. That's not what she would've wanted for you. She would not have wanted you to stop growing in all these ways. I'm sure of it, because if it were us, we'd feel the same. We wouldn't want that for you if we were no longer around." In a way, Callie was looking for permission to grow. "You may have some days when you're off having fun and doing new things that you don't think about her but that's normal, and it's okay. None of that means you've forgotten her, or that you're being disloyal."

Even though she was still struggling with what she'd confessed, Callie had to admit that sounded like something her Mom would've said. It made sense that having Stef and Lena didn't take from her connection to her Mom but it didn't always feel that way. Sometimes the thought just snuck up on her.

"Can you look at me for a sec?" Lena asked, preferring that Callie didn't hide when upset. Her daughter finally emerged, peering at her from inside the crook of Stef's arm. "There you are...Mom and I are trying to pick up where your Mom and Dad left off, as best we can without having known them. We're not trying to take you away from your life with them or looking to replace your Mom." She suspected the conflict over moving out was only the start of Callie comparing them to Colleen and challenging how they did things. Eventually, she hoped Callie would learn the differences weren't meant to antagonize her birth mother but was intended to be an extension of what they imagined Colleen would've wanted for the children. "It might not always seem that way but we would never want to push your Mom out of the picture or make you forget her."

Thrilled at what she was hearing, Callie extricated herself out from under Stef's arm, springing up onto her knees. She threw her arms around Lena, catching her foster mom off guard.

"What's this for, honey?" Lena gasped as she blinked away tears. She was still getting used to these displays of affection Callie had begun to initiate, little by little as she let them in, becoming acquainted with the security she could count on. Callie had been trying to understand the implications of their relationship on the one she'd had with Colleen the first eight years of her life, and she had been waiting for reassurance that it was okay to bond with them. That Callie had considered this in depth meant she was looking to accept them.

"For all that you do for me. And about everything you just said about not replacing my Mom and taking me from her," Callie said, feeling truly free in that moment. She took solace in the kindness and warmth she felt with Lena, comfort magnified by the familiar berry shampoo scent and big hair.

"Never, Callie. If you ever feel that way again, I want to know about it." She locked gazes with Stef, who was dabbing her eyes.

"You give the best hugs," Lena said as Callie sniffled. "Do you have another one in you for Mom?" She had had her moment with Callie. Now it was Stef's turn.

Their daughter nodded, giving her one last squeeze before she jumped into Stef's arms with such force that it winded her. The past few months had been hard on all of them, and she was relieved that they had been moving forward in big steps—amidst the mess. The way their relationship with Callie had evolved and developed never ceased to amaze and evoke a sense of pride within her. That she was opening up about her thoughts and feelings, seeking them out rather than them pulling answers from her, spoke volumes about how far she'd come while under their watch.

"Thank you for saying that I'm not leaving my Mom behind," Callie said so softly that only Stef could hear.

"Anytime," Stef said, finding it difficult to keep her emotions in check. Hearing a rustle, she patted Callie's hoodie front. "Hey, whatcha got there in your snack pocket?" Her daughter giggled at her teasing; she and Lena were never going to let her live that one down.

Sticking her hands into the kangaroo pocket, Callie gathered the ribbons of tape from the disemboweled cassette as best she could. Ever since Lena had helped fixed her book, she had thought about asking Moms if her tape could be fixed but chickened out each time. So it remained at the back of her drawer, upsetting her every time she saw it. Without the one with the recorded birthday greeting, she wasn't as interested in the others, fearing she'd be let down somehow.

"Oh no...Callie. I'm so sorry," Lena murmured, when she realized what their daughter had cradled in her hand. They had already known, of course, from Jude's admission but it was hard to see the mass of magnetic film. She knew what it had meant for Callie to have those cassettes returned, especially after all that time.

"The day Jude and I were fighting, he grabbed the cassette player from me and tried to get it out and it got jammed. That's why we were yelling," the girl explained, unaware her Moms already knew the whole story.

Stef and Lena exchanged a sad smile. They had wondered when Callie would tell them the truth. Trusting that she would once she was ready, they hadn't mentioned Stef's conversation with Jude. "It was wrong of him to take something of yours without your permission and wrecking it in the process. We talked to him about it and he knows he needs to be careful if you are going to share with him," Lena said.

"How about you and Mom try to fix the tape? She knows a thing or two about repairing them," she suggested when it seemed like Callie hadn't heard or grasped the past tense in her reply. She was surprised when Callie shook her head. "How come no?"

Callie shrugged. "I don't wanna get my hopes up." Simple.

"That's certainly understandable," Stef empathized. "Well, how about this? I'll take a closer look tomorrow, and let you know if it looks promising in case you change your mind. How does that sound?" she proposed, thinking of how her daughter could be included. Admittedly, this was an intimidating mess but as long as there was just one rip in the reel it would be fine.

Callie gave a reluctant nod. "Good."

"Alright. Let's go find a safe place for this and Mama and I will get you settled into our bed for the night." No way was she going to risk waking Mariana; whereas Callie could still function while tired, their younger daughter was an absolute nightmare to deal with whenever she didn't get a full night's sleep. "C'mon you sleepy bag of bones. Way past your bedtime." She was pleased to get quick agreement that probably had a lot to do with the glazed expression on her child's face.

By the time they had found a temporary home for the cassette, set her up with a fresh glass of water, and tucked her in as requested—sheet only, comforter folded at calf level, nestled beside Lena but not too close because her hair was 'tickly'—it was pushing one in the morning. Sleep beckoned in the form of fluttering eyes and night sweat beading a sticky hairline. Stef, who still had to brush her teeth, sat beside her—palm firmly pressed to her daughter's chest. Callie carried on their conversation from downstairs in spurts as she faded in and out of sleep, fighting it. Hoping Callie would talk herself to sleep as she processed her thoughts out loud, neither questioned her. Instead, they let the one-sided conversation take shape on its own.

"I wish Mom could be here for when we get adopted...but that's silly. Right Mom?"

"Not silly, love. It's only natural that you'd want her around to share important occasions with her."

"Yeah...but if Momma was here for us getting adopted then we wouldn't be getting adopted."

"True." With her thumb, Stef methodically stroked the middle of Callie's forehead up to her hairline and following it back down again. It was a strategy that worked with the youngest in their brood. Callie's eyes rolled back before snapping open, much to her chagrin. "Time to close your eyes, baby. It's okay, we're right here. We love you so much; your Mom does, too."

"Can she love me if she's not here?"

"Of course. Love between people who love each other very much is forever."

A distant memory came up in Callie's mind. "She used to say something like that…my Mom. She had a lot of love, and she said it didn't know any boundaries. When I started school for the whole day she said there's an invisible string that connects us always even if we're apart. And that was love." Her words slurred as sleep tried to take her. "I think I feel her around. Like a warm and kinda fuzzy...feeling...like big tickle-y hair and the fruity shampoo Mama uses…but I remember her too when you burn stuff in the kitchen and you swear when you think no one's listening."

Scandalized, Stef's mouth fell open.

Lena stifled a laugh. "You do," she mouthed, nodding emphatically. Out of the mouth of babes.

"So there. She can still love you," Stef pointed out, wanting to put an end to the conversation. "Goodnight, Callie."

A period of silence punctuated by light snoring set in, giving the impression that an opportunity to sneak away was possible until glazed, overtired eyes dashed hopes by blinking wide open again.

"She said love could roar louder than the ocean."

"Love can roar louder than the ocean, baby."

"When Mama was preggy with Jude she said even though I'd have to share my toys and our time together with him because he'd need lots of help, that I didn't have to share her love 'cause her heart would grow to make room for all of us. And I said that can't be good because that could hurt if your heart gets too big for your chest. But she said that's how she could love me as much as before he came along, and both of us, and maybe more," Callie rambled.

Stef shot a bemused smile at Lena. Evidently, they needed to talk with Callie when she was tired because it became so much easier to. "That sounds like something you would say, hey…" Then, as Callie yawned a big yawn: "Time for eyes to be closed...how about you tell us more about your Mom in the morning? Rest now or you won't have the energy to."

Her daughter didn't seem to hear. "I was thinking, maybe...maybe I can love you and Mama the same as my Mom, because my heart can grow like hers did to make room for everyone and maybe more. I can love three Moms."

Lena, hearing her wife cough and knowing Stef was trying to stop herself from completely losing it, replied on her behalf.

"You can love three Moms, sweetheart."