Page 90 of Through the Snow Globe
“For sure. We’re actually getting together tonight at my house for a little New Year’s Eve party. Jay and Sierra are coming, along with a few others.”
“That’s great,” Diana said.
“You can stop by too,” Mrs. Pierce offered. “You’ve still never taken me up on dinner. Or what about tomorrow for New Year’s Day? I always make black-eyed peas and collards. It’s supposed to bring good fortune in the year ahead.”
Diana used to quickly turn invitations like this one down, out of habit and her need to keep relationships in a nice little box where people couldn’t hurt her. She was feeling differently these days, though. “Can I bring my foster son?”
“Of course, you can. We’d love to meet him,” Mrs. Pierce said. “What’s his name again?”
“Dustin. Warning, he’s an active little boy. But he’s a good kid. A great one, actually.”
“Well, aren’t they all?” Mrs. Pierce looked more relaxed these days as well. Diana had heard through the grapevine that Addy’s mom and Maria were now getting together on a near-daily basis, repairing their mother-daughter relationship. What a difference a couple weeks could make. “Let’s say noon tomorrow, then?”
“Sounds perfect. Thanks for stopping in.”
Addy looked around the store before leaving. “It’s so cool that you run a toy store now.”
“Just temporarily, but it is a lot of fun. And it makes me feel close to my fiancé,” Diana confided.
Addy offered a sympathetic look. That was the look Diana used to avoid. Then the girl stepped over and gave Diana a tight hug. Diana had avoided these as well, but hugs helped. Accepting support from others didn’t make her weak or vulnerable. It only made her stronger.
Mrs. Pierce hugged her next. Then the two Pierces waved goodbye.
“See you tomorrow,” Addy called behind her.
“Have fun with your friends later.” Diana watched them leave before turning back to the aisles of toys. Linus had put together many of these things with his own hands. He’d told her once that he used to love coming to the store after school as a kid to hang out with his dad, and that he’d always known he’d wanted to work here when he got older.
Linus was steadfast. He didn’t waver on what he wanted. Diana guessed that kind of confidence came from a stable home environment and a supportive family. Grandma Denny had offered Diana the best she could. Diana knew that, and she was grateful. Diana was doing the same for Dustin. That’s why she’d finally taken Rochelle’s advice on getting counseling. Her best could be even better if she worked on a few areas in her life.
“Diana?” Dustin came barreling from the back room. “When is Grandma Joann coming to get me?”
“Grandma Joann?” Diana raised a brow.
“That’s what she told me to call her.” Dustin shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’m not getting too attached.”
Diana stepped over to the boy and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay to get attached. None of us are going anywhere. She’s not your real grandmother, but you can adopt her as one if that’s what you two decide.”
“Adopt?” Dustin’s eyes widened. “What about you? Can I adopt you too?”
Diana squeezed him to her in a side hug. “It goes the other way around, kid. And as a single person, I’m not as attractive a candidate as a couple who might want to take you in.”
Dustin hung his head. “A couple isn’t taking me in, though.”
“Right now, you’re with me and that’s how it’s staying.”
“Maybe when Linus wakes up, you two can adopt me. As a couple.” Dustin looked back up at her, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.
The more time that passed, the less likely it was Linus would wake. That was Diana’s brain speaking. Her heart was leading these days, though, and her heart told her he would come back. He’d made a promise and Linus Grant didn’t break promises if he could help it. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”
“Do you think Linus will agree?” Dustin asked.
“I don’t think it, I know it,” Diana said.
Dustin broke into a wide childlike grin as he bounced excitedly on his heels.
Then the bell upfront jingled again as Joann stepped into the store.
“Grandma Joann!” Dustin took off running toward Linus’s mother.
