The dull pain in my chest returns. Zooey has found a way to make me break a million times this past year. She doesn’t give up. When she first arrived, she would cry for her parents. The questions didn’t start until a few months ago, though. I’m not sure if she’s just beginning to wrap her head around what’s going on here, but I know many of the children become curious when watching something as innocent as Sesame Street. They notice everything. Zooey has been asking for a while, and though it's less often, a week doesn’t go by.
Of course, now, I have an answer.
“Let me ask you something, sweetie. When you think about a dream bedroom, what do you imagine?”
Her eyes light up, and she glances up at the ceiling in thought. “Barbies and dolls—no, wait, printhesses.”
“You like princesses?”
“They’re my favorite. I’m going to be one someday.”
“You sure are. I know it.”
“So, when is she coming?” Zooey asks again.
I look down at my desk to collect my thoughts. “Do you remember where you lived?” Zooey shakes her head, no. She was too young. “Did you know that some mommies in the world are queens, and some daddies are kings?”
“Yes, of course, that’s why there are printhesses and printhes,” she says.
“Well, right now, we’re looking for a queen or a king to take you away to a magical kingdom so you can grow up and become a princess. Is that what you would like?”
Zooey presses her finger to her lips and stares ahead as if she’s in a deep focus. Her eyebrows knit together, and her eyes widen. “Well, if I am going to be a printhess, I guess I would need a queen or a king Mommy or Daddy, right?”
“Exactly,” I tell her.
“My mom isn’t a queen, is she?”
My lips fall to the side. “I’m afraid not, sweetie.”
She falls back into thought. “I just want to be a printhess.”
“I’m going to see what I can do to help with that, okay?”
Her face lights up again. “That would be the best day ever,” she says. “Thank you, Miss Tay.”
I press my lips together, trying to keep myself from saying any more. I slip out of my chair and squat to my knees. “Come here,” I say. She runs into my open arms. The hug hurts me like a raw burn, but I press her head to my chest and rock her back and forth. “I will do whatever I can to make sure you are living the life of a princess, okay?”
“I love you, Miss Tay.”
I close my eyes, knowing I shouldn’t say anything in return. “I love you too, Zooey. I really do.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter 31
Chance
Everything will fall into place someday. Not today or tomorrow, but I have to have faith because things are already feeling pretty perfect, waking up to this beautiful face. I love rousing her with the soft brush of my finger against her cheek. The way her eyes flutter open is like the start of a beautiful blue-sky day.
“Mornin’, gorgeous.”
August groans through a small yawn. “Good morning,” she says, smiling faintly.
“I don’t want you to be late for work,” I tell her.
“Mmm, but your bed is so nice.” I place a kiss on her cheek and rip the covers away. “Chance!”
“Auggie, move it.” I whip her butt with a pillow, and she finally rolls out of bed.
“You’re mean,” she groans, grabbing her phone from the nightstand on her side of the bed.
Her side of the bed. I could get used to that.
Like I’ve noticed her do first thing in the morning, she scrolls through her emails. “I don’t know why you do that to yourself. I can’t get myself to read an email until I have eaten something.”
“I need to know what the day has in store for me,” she says.
“It’s sunny, with a chance of showers, and a chance of me—Chance.”
She rolls her eyes and continues scrolling until she clicks on an email. It takes her less than a second to read whatever is on the email, and then she slams her phone down. “Oh my God. I have to get to work right now.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask her. She looks crazed.
“Yeah, I just have to handle something at work.”
“Do you have time to shower first?” I ask, tugging her arm back toward the bed.
“I can’t. I have to get to work,” August says again.
“Tell me what’s going on, darlin’.”
She turns around and flops down onto the bed. “Do you trust me?”
“Depends,” I tell her. “Right this second, I’m not sure.”
“Trust me. Let me go to work.”
“Fine. I’ll just take a cold shower, alone.”
She crawls over, still wearing my tee from last night, and kisses me. “Meet me for lunch?”
“Fine,” I tell her. “I wake you up early for nothing, but I’ll meet you for lunch,” I grumble for an added effect.
“Thank you,” she says. With only a couple of blinks, August grabs pants from her bag and the shirt hanging in the front of my closet. The sleepovers are amazing, but not always so easy on a work night when she must be in business attire. I’ve offered to stay at her place, but she doesn’t want to stay there at all, so I stopped asking a week ago when we decided things between us are a good fit.
August pulls her hair back into a low ponytail and closes herself into the bathroom for a few minutes to freshen up.
When the door reopens, she’s ready for work with her lips glossed, dark lashes, and rosy cheeks. “I’ll be showering right after work tonight if that’s okay with you?”
“Well, that all depends. Where are you showering, and am I invited?”
“I suppose since it will be your shower,” she says, smirking with a flirtatious glint to her eyes.
“Then, it’s fine by me.”
I haven’t seen August move this fast since she started staying over. I’d say we’ve had about six sleepovers now, but the nights in between are getting to be fewer and fewer, without a complaint from me. She is a perfect distraction from the rest of my life.
August runs back in after slipping her heels on and leans over me. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
“I can’t wait,” I tell her. She kisses my cheek, leaving her rose-colored mark behind, as well as a view of her tight pants, highlighting her assets. One of these days, I’m just going to wake up, and this is all going to be some kind of dream.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the job site where Davey and I have been working. It’s a small development with six cape style houses, all needing the works. The builder is a nice guy who has been around the block a few times and isn’t afraid to invest in durability, making the job a bit easier. The quality of shingles can define the time it takes to get the job done. Most people don’t realize if they invest a little more upfront, the hourly costs go down.
By noon, we have one side of shingles up on the cape we’re working on today. “Carol-Anne made me a couple of sandwiches. Want one?” Davey asks, heading over to his truck.
“No, thanks, man. I’m meeting August for lunch today.”
He turns in his step and continues walking backward while talking. “Things are getting pretty serious with you two, huh? What’s it been now, a month?”
“Something like that,” I tell him. “Things are going well.”
“I’m glad to hear that. You deserve to have a good woman in your life. Plus, you’ve been in a good mood, and it makes my life easier too.”
Thankfully, I’ve been busy all day because if I weren’t, I’d be wondering what August was in such a mad rush for this morning. Something was obviously going on at work, but she usually tells me when trouble is brewing there or if things are getting heavy for a kid.
I clean up some of the debris before heading downtown for lunch. I check my phone to make sure nothing came up, causing August to have to cancel lunch, but there’s nothing. Hopefully, no news is good news, or nothing importan
t, at least.
Having nothing but fifteen minutes to think on the way to lunch, I’ve come up with about thirty possibilities for her behavior this morning, but nothing makes a whole lot of sense.
I’m glad to see she’s already in the sub shop when I arrive. She’s even ordered my favorite sandwich and has it waiting next to a large Pepsi. “Have I told you how amazing you are lately?” I ask, placing a kiss on her cheek before sliding into the booth across from her.
She’s glowing, and I need to know why. “How was your morning?”
“It was just fine. What is going on with you, darlin’?”
“Can you be somewhere at five tonight? It’s the latest they’re open.”
I know I look confused when I stall to answer, but after a long second, I tell her, “Sure, I can be somewhere. Where am I supposed to be?”
“I need you to sign some papers at the Department of Social Service.”
“What, why?” My heart feels heavy, but it’s racing at the same time.
August takes my hands that are resting on the table and squeezes them. “I’ve been working hard on something for you, Chance.”
“What? What in the world are you talking about?”
“Zooey is four years old. She wants to be a princess when she grows up but knows she needs to find a king or a queen to be her parent before that happens. Zooey likes to swing on the swing-set, play with dolls, and sing. Her parents aren’t coming back. She was on her way out of the group home when I stepped in and made some calls and drafted many emails. There is paperwork for you to sign tonight. There will be one more home visit, and everything will get approved. Then, Zooey can be living with her new foster dad by this Friday.”
I’m staring through August right now. I’m digesting all her words. My breaths quicken, and I feel like I might explode with excitement, with tears, and with joy. “You did this?” I ask, my words hitch in my throat.
“I wasn’t going to stop until I made it happen,” she says. “If you have your eyes open and believe in fate, the rest comes together on its own.”
“That little girl I saw on the swings that day … was that Zooey?”
“Yes, that’s Zooey. That afternoon after we had lunch, she came to me asking when her mom was coming to pick her up. After a little talk, she explained that all she wanted was to grow up to be a princess. I told her I would do what I could to make that happen. I hugged her after that, and she told me she loved me. I told her I love her too. Every one of those kids deserves the world, but Zooey spoke to me that day, and I just knew—I knew you two were supposed to be together.”
My throat is tight, and I can’t figure out what to say or do. I just—I can’t believe this. “I don’t know what to say,” I tell her.
“I’m going to be by your side throughout the entire process. You have nothing to worry about.”
I place my head down on my arms, still holding her hands. She tugs my fingers to get my attention, and I lift my head. “Everything happens for a reason, Chance.”
“How do I thank you?” I’m sincere about my question. I owe her the world.
“You stepped into my life when I needed someone to lean on. It just worked out that way. Then, you saved my life. You’ve already done so much for me, and your heart of gold deserves joy and happiness. I’ve never asked anyone to do anything for me, Chance. I get more joy out of helping others, but in the past month, you have proven what it means to give and take, and it’s taught me a lot.”
“You—single-handedly have answered all my prayers, do you understand this?”
“It wasn’t all me. It's just in the cards.”
“So, she wants to be a princess, huh?”
Augusts huffs a soft laugh. “It is all that little girl cares about.”
“That room in my house. It’s a bedroom, but not for a princess.”
August nods her head. “We have to do a little shopping tonight after you sign the papers.”
“I guess we need to make the room look like a palace, huh?”
“We need princess dresses, crowns, and everything else she deserves,” August says.
I realize I know very little about raising a girl, but I’ve been researching and stalking parent forums, taking notes, making sure I am suitable and ready to take care of a child of any age, give him or her whatever they need. The stuff is just stuff, though. The only part I can imagine right now is when I get to tell her she can officially become a princess. “I can’t wait to spoil her,” I tell August.
“The best part is once she’s living with you, we can start talking about the adoption process so you can become her forever.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
August
Three Days Later
It isn’t always a big deal when a child finds a foster home because it can be a temporary situation depending on the type of foster care, but when we match a child up with a person looking to adopt, the foster set-up is a bigger deal.
Chance is coming to pick Zooey up at the group home today. He was pacing his living room last night, so I told him to take the night and clear his head before today. I figured he might want a little alone time before making this huge adjustment. I could have been wrong, but I was trying to do the right thing.
I was going to bring him breakfast this morning, so I got up early, and the second I opened my front door, the buzzer chimed.
Chance showed up an hour before work with coffee and breakfast. I guess we think alike.
He was more nervous this morning than he was last night, the poor guy. I’m glad I’m here to help when he picks up Zooey.
I’ve been watching her in the front room for the past half hour. We told her she could keep the Cinderella dress-up costume, so she pleaded with us to wear it this morning when Chance picks her up. She even let Leena do her hair for a change.
Zooey is spinning in circles with her magic wand, bopping the little dolls heads, turning them into princesses. “You’re a printhess, and you’re a printhess. Now we’re all printhesses.”
We’ve separated the other kids this morning and brought them upstairs for a movie and popcorn event. I can’t handle the thought of any child watching another child chosen or become lucky. The older ones have fewer chances of finding a forever home, and it breaks my heart.
“Zooey, are you excited?”
“Yes!” she shrieks. “The king will be here soon.”
“He sure will be, kiddo.”
Chance is always on time. I can count on him for that. It’s ten o'clock on the dot, and the doorbell just rang. “The king must be here, Zooey!”
I unlock the front door, then the storm door, and find Chance standing before me. He’s dressed up like a king in red, suede pants, and a Prince Charming jacket with gold trim. He must have rented the outfit from a costume shop. I place my hand over my face and laugh softly.
“You—”
“I’m something else too,” he says. He lifts a box that was behind him and hands it to me. “These for the other kids. Tell them it's a donation.”
“Chance, you didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” he says, firmly. “I got toys suitable for ages five to fifteen, so hopefully, they all find something they like.”
“You’re incredible,” I tell him.
I step to the side and invite him in. Zooey is waiting a few feet behind me with eyes as wide as the sky. “Are you a real king?” she asks.
“Yes, I am. Someone told me you are a princess. Is that true?”
“Uh-huh,” she says, her mouth hanging open.
Chance kneels and pulls a princess doll out from behind his back. “This is for you, princess Zooey.”
Zooey steps forward to gently retrieve the doll from Chance’s hand. She pulls it into her chest and hugs it with all her might.
Being able to witness this moment is why I do what I do. These rare times are worth every ounce of pain I witness daily. There are still happily-ever-afters.
Zooey removes the c
rown from her head and holds it down by her side. “Mr. Miller, I know I’m not a real printhess, but I do need a dad. Miss Tay told me you might be the best kind of dad in the entire world. Maybe someday you could be my real dad, right?”
I hate how grown-up Zooey sounds for a four-year-old. I hate how she understands so much at an early age, but I’m so thankful her life is going in the right direction now.
“It could happen,” Chance tells her. “Can I tell you a little story?”
Zooey steps in a little closer to Chance and plops down on his knee. I giggle at the sight like he’s Santa Clause to her.
“Okay,” she says. “I’m ready.”
“When I was a few years older than you, I was standing in this same spot when I got to meet the people who wanted to bring me home with them and take care of me. They became my parents, and I love them more than anything in the world. The day they took me home, I promised myself that when I grew up, I would do the same thing for a girl or boy who needed a home.”
“That’s me?” she questions, pointing to herself.
“That’s you,” he says, his voice breaking apart.
Zooey wraps her arms around Chance’s neck and whispers, “Thank you for saving me.”
I don’t allow myself to get emotional at work. There is no room for it here. I’ve trained myself to stop tears at the drop of a dime. I’ve gotten good at it, too good at it. I’m able to keep myself composed while watching this beautiful scene, but I’m breaking inside.
Everything truly happens for a reason. I could go as far as thinking that for Chance and Zooey to find each other, Keegan had to do what he did. If not, I wouldn’t have been getting myself in trouble at a bar. I wouldn’t have attracted the attention of this wonderful, one-in-a-million man who would later save me from a personal demise, which in turn allowed me to make his dream come true.
Chance invited me over for dinner tonight to celebrate all the happiness. I’ve considered the effect my presence might have on Zooey, so for now, until things move along with Chance and me, we’re going to make sure she believes we’re best friends, which is why we spend so much time together.
Fall to Pieces: A story about addiction and love Page 22