Page 2 of Home Safe

Jason shrugs. “I unpacked everything already. There wasn’t much.” My heart pangs. His eyes light up as he adds, “Pizza would be awesome, though! Can I have plain cheese?”

“You can have any toppings you want. Or lack of toppings,” I say with a smile. “I’ll even order extra so we can have leftovers tomorrow.” Quickly placing an order for medium cheese and medium pepperoni pizzas in the app, I toggle the delivery option on. Usually, I don’t pay the extra cost to get delivery, opting for carry-out instead. But for tonight, I think we’ll stay put.

“What would you like to do?” I ask Jason. “We could play a board game or watch a movie. What sounds fun to you?” I have no idea what he likes to do at home in the evenings. Then again, I don’t know how many options he’s been given in the past.

Jason requests a movie, so we find a good option on Netflix while we wait for the pizza. When the pizza arrives, we pause the show to eat at the kitchentable.

“Jason, I thought we should maybe talk about what you want to call me. I know you’re used to calling me Miss Collins at school, and that’s fine if that still feels most comfortable to you right now. Like we’ve talked about over the past couple of months, I’m going to be your mom for the rest of your life, okay? Nothing’s going to change that. But you don’t have to call me ‘Mom’ if that doesn’t seem right to you. You can still call me Miss Collins or Danae—I’ll answer to anything for you.” I smile warmly so that Jason will sense my sincerity.

He slowly chews his bite of pizza, a contemplative look on his face. I first met Jason when he came to Trailridge Elementary as a first grader. It was my first year as the school librarian instead of teaching one of the third-grade classes. He immediately burrowed his way into my heart with his love for the library and his need for love.

Jason left our school for a few months in second grade during a stint in foster care. I was worried sick about him the entire time he was gone, praying for his well-being every night. Thankfully, he came back when he moved back in with his dad. Trailridge remained a consistent place for him throughout the subsequent cycles in and out of the foster system; sometimes he was with his grandmother and sometimes with other foster families.

“How about I call you Miss Danae?” Jason announces, eyes lighting up with his idea.

I grin to show my approval. “I think that sounds perfect. Do you have any nicknames that you like to be called?”

Jason’s face falls, and I wish I could walk back that question. “Not really . . . sometimes my dad used to call me Jase,” he says quietly. He fervently adds, “But I don’t want you to call me that.”

“You got it. I bet we’ll think of the perfect nickname for you soon. Although, I love the name Jason, so maybe I won’t even need a nickname for you,” I say, relieved when his smile returns.

After we’re done eating, we return to the couch to finish the movie. I’ve been around Jason at school for three-and-a-half years, so I’m well-acquainted with his personality—his sweet demeanor as well as his outbursts. I can tell he’s making an effort to be on his best behavior tonight. Somehow, I want to communicate to him that this is a safe place to be himself. That this is home, and he’s secure here with me.

That I’m not leaving. Thathe’snot leaving.

But maybe a long, heartfelt speech isn’t quite what he needs on his first night as my son.

At 8:30 p.m., I tuck Jason into bed after he’s brushed his teeth. “Would you want me to read a little bit of the nextHarry Potterbook aloud before you go to sleep?” I ask.

His eyes light up, and he sits forward in bed. “Yes, please!”

Despite all of the struggles he’s faced in life, Jason’s been an avid and advanced reader from the beginning. In fact, maybe it’sbecauseof the struggles, not in spiteof them. I certainly understand the comfort of escaping your life circumstances through a novel. At the end of last school year, I encouraged Jason to try the first book in theHarry Potterseries. As I suspected, he was instantly hooked. He read the first two novels on his own, and he checked out the third book from the school library this week.

I briefly return to the living room to grab my own well-worn copy ofThe Prisoner of Azkabanfrom the bookshelf then settle on the bed next to Jason. “How far have you read?” I ask.

“I only had time to read the first two chapters,” Jason responds. “I didn’t have a lot of time to read this week.”

Tears prick my eyes again, and I put my arm around his shoulders to give him a little squeeze. “Totally understandable. We’ll read chapter three tonight then.”

Inch by inch, Jason leans closer to my side as I read, pulled by the gravity of sleepiness or love, or perhaps both. By the end of the chapter, he’s snuggled against my shoulder, and it’s all I can do to finish reading rather than wrap both arms protectively around him.

Standing up, I motion across the hallway. “My room is right over there, and I’ll leave both of our doors open in case you need anything.” My preference would be to keep his door closed for the sake of fire safety, but I know his need tofeelsafe trumps hypothetical fires. “If you wake up scared because you forget where you are, call out for me or come on over to my room, okay?”

Jason nods before scooting down in bed. He looks so small, so vulnerable, tucked under my old quilt, eyespeering up at me.

“I love you, Jason,” I murmur, giving him a soft smile. He smiles back and nods again before rolling over toward the wall. I turn off the overhead light, double checking that the night light pushes away enough of the darkness in the room.

After loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counter, I sit at the small dining table and take a deep breath. I run my fingers over the familiar scratches in the wood, courtesy of whoever previously owned my second-hand find. Slowly exhaling, I pull out my phone to text my best friend. Kara teaches music at Trailridge, and she’s become a true friend in addition to a colleague.

ME

He’s here and settled in.

KARA

How’s he doing? How are YOU doing?

ME

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