Ian and Brice
Chapter 5 (Ian)
Copyright 2021 by Heather Rose Brown

In this chapter, Ian is comforted by Mae, then he joins a picnic with the foster family who've taken him into their home, as well as their hearts.

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I was curled up on my bed, well ... a bed that was mine for now, and crying into a huge, fluffy pillow, when I noticed quiet footsteps. I pulled the pillow away from my face when the footsteps stopped, and saw Mae standing next to the door I hadn't bothered to close.

Mae's forehead wrinkled when she asked, "Do you mind if I come in, Ian?"

"It's ... it's your house," I said between snuffles.

Brice's foster mother frowned and closed her eyes, then tilted her head up. Her mouth moved like she was speaking, but I couldn't hear what she was saying. After a few seconds, she lowered her head and opened her eyes.

Her face softened as she said, "Sweetheart, this isn't just *my* home. It belongs to everyone who lives here ... including you."

Home. It had been a long times since anyplace had felt like home. The shelter had been a safe place to stay, but it didn't exactly feel like home. The place I'd shared with my father before then had been called home. But ... after my mom passed, and my father started pulling away from me, the word felt hollow.

"Wow," I said while blinking away a few tears, "thank you." When I realized she was still standing in the doorway, I sat up and and turned until my feet hung over the edge of the bed, then said, "Please, come in."

When Mae walked in, I looked down at the scuffed toes of my sneakers. My heart froze when her feet stop in front of me. It started beating again when I realized she wasn't going to come any closer.

She knelt down until her pretty hazel eyes were looking into mine, then said, "Penny for your thoughts."

I scrubbed my damp face with my palms until my cheeks were raw, then dropped my hands onto the pillow in my lap, and said, "I really could use a hu--" My throat closed up a split second before I realized what I was about to say.

Brice's foster mom leaned back until her butt was resting on the floor, then she folded her legs like a yoga master while saying, "Whatever you want to say, I promise ... it's okay to say it."

I gave my pillow a tight hug, then set it aside, and took a few slow, deep breaths. Once my throat loosened up enough to speak, I said, "Guess I was kinda 'membering how, before my mom passed, the way she'd hug me whenever I was sad, scared, or upset. But now ..."

Tears sparkled on Mae's lashes as she said, "Honey, I know nobody could ever take your mom's place, and I'd never try to do that," she swallowed, then added, "but ... if you ever want a hug, or anything else, just let me know. Okay?"

"Could ya ... hold my hands?" I asked.

"Of course," she said as she reached out to me.

When I rested my hand in hers, she stroked my wrist with one of her thumbs. Her gentle touch made my heart ache. But it was the warmth, acceptance, and love in her eyes that opened up the floodgates.

I cried for what felt like hours.

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Once my tears were down to a trickle, Mae let go of my hands, then held something in front of me. I had to blink a couple of times before my eyes were clear enough to see the tissue box. "Thank you," I said while pulling out a handful of tissues.

I'd dried my eyes, and was wiping away the snot dripping from my nose, when someone knocked on the door. I looked up, and saw my friend and her other foster mom standing in the doorway.

Brice lifted a pile of paper plates stacked with sandwiches as she asked, "Mind if we come in?"

I nodded and said, Sure," while waving them in.

My friend grinned and strode up to me, then held out the plates while asking, "Ya up to eatin'?"

My stomach rumbled when I caught a whiff of something rich and tasty coming from the sandwiches. My face warmed all the way out to my ears as I said, "Guess I am."

Trish glanced at her wife, then gathered the items in her arms closer to her chest before turning to me and asking, "Are you *sure* you're okay with me coming in?"

"Of course," I said while nodding. "This *is* your house." I thought about what Mae had told me earlier, then said, "I mean, this is your home ... too."

Her arms and shoulders relaxed a little as she walked in. Once she was standing behind her foster child, she asked, "Would you like to eat here?" She held up a folded gingham cloth as she said, "If you'd like, we could spread this on the floor, and have an indoor picnic."

Thinking about picnics reminded me of one of the 'mother and son' days I used to have with my mom when I was little. As much as I missed her, the happiness of that memory somehow managed to override the sense of loss. I smiled and said, "A picnic sounds fun!"

"Cool!" Brice said while yanking the cloth from Trish's grasp.

Trish lost her grip on the thermos and paper cups tucked into the crook of her arm. She grabbed for the falling items, and juggled them for almost a full second, before they thumped and clattered to the floor.

Brice's eyes widened, then she hung her head and said, "Sorry Mom."

Her foster parents gave each other looks of mild surprise, mixed with hints of hope and joy.

My friend's face was pale when she looked up. The cloth she'd grabbed unfolded as she lifted it to her mouth. "I mean, sorry ... Trish," she said in a muffled voice.

Trish tugged Brice's hand away from her mouth, then she stroked the top my friend's head while saying, "It's okay, pumpkin. The thermos is shatterproof, nothing spilled, and the cups aren't even dented."

Brice seemed to wilt as she said, "What I'd meant to say, was ... I'm sorry for ... umm ..."

"Shhh ..." Trish said before giving Brice a peck on her forehead. "You did nothing wrong."

My friend looked like she wanted to say more, but shrugged and smiled instead, then turned to me and asked, "Would ya like to help me spread out the picnic blanket?"

What she held looked more like a table cloth than a blanket, but I nodded anyway while wadding up my tissues. After tossing them into a wicker waste basket, I stood and grabbed a two corners of the 'blanket'.

Mae stood and asked, "Want me to get that?" while placing her hands under the plates and sandwiches Brice was holding.

"Oh!" my friend said while letting go of the plates. "Thanks M-- umm ... Mae-mom?"

Even though I wasn't exactly sure what was going on, my heart felt lighter when I saw the way both of Brice's foster parents smiled. All four of us started shuffling around in an organized chaos, setting up a picnic in what feeling a little more like *my* room.

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After we were finished setting up, I sat on a corner of the blanket, then rested my back against the side of my bed, and said, "This is so nice. I ain't done nothin' like this since ... well ... it's been a pretty long time."

Mae gave me a warm smile, then said, "I'm glad you're enjoying the picnic. Now eat up, before your food gets cold." Her smile turned into a grin. "Or hot. Or ... something like that."

"Oh," I said. "So ... we ain't gonna say prayers first?"

Brice put the sandwich that was halfway to her mouth back on her plate, then said, "Actually, what we usually do is take turns sayin' somethin' we're thankful for, before we start eatin'. Guess that's sorta like prayin', but it's different too."

I thought about what she'd described for a moment, then said, "That sounds kinda nice."

Trish gave me a searching look, then asked, "Is that something you'd feel okay doing?"

"Yeah," I said as I nodded.

"Would you be okay with holding hands while we do that?" Mae asked.

I smiled and held out my hands, then said, "I'd like that a lot."

Once we were all holding hands, Trish turned to Brice, and asked, "Would you like to take the first turn, sweetie?"

Brice nodded and grinned, then said, "I'm thankful for parents who've been there for me, no matter what." She wiggled my left hand and added, "I'm also thankful for my new friend."

Trish gave her foster child a bright smile, then said, "I'm thankful for the patience and understanding I've been shown when I struggle to be a good parent and spouse."

Mae lifted Trish's hand, and kissed her fingertips, then looked at each of us while saying, "I'm thankful for the opportunity to be surrounded by such kind, gentle souls."

I panicked a little when I realized three pairs of eyes were on me, and three pairs of ears were waiting for what I had to say. "I ... umm ... I mean ..." I said while waiting for my brain to come up with something that expressed everything I was thinking and feeling.

Mae squeezed my right hand and said, "It's okay if you're not up to saying anything."

I took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, then said, "Actually, there's lots I wanna say, but I ain't sure if I got all the words to say it." I took another long breath, then said, "There's lots and lots I'm thankful for, but the biggest thing is bein' with folk who make where I'm at feel like ... home."