Breathe

Her eyes were searching and he knew her mind was still on their phone conversation when she asked, “Is everything all right?”


“My Dad paid me a surprise visit,” he shared, saw her body give a small, surprised jolt as her brows shot together and he moved into her, curling his arms loosely around her. She lifted her hands and rested them lightly on his chest as he muttered, “It’s okay.”

“Why did he visit you?” she asked.

“Why does he do anything?” Chace evaded. “Mostly to be an asshole.”

“Is your Mom okay?”

He nodded. “She’s good. Got a call from her too. We’re invited to dinner, three weeks.”

“All right,” she replied hesitantly, her eyes still searching his face.

“It’ll be okay. Dad won’t be there,” he assured her.

She continued studying him before, for him, she let it go by whispering, “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know what went down but I do know it’s unpleasant seeing him. So I’m sorry.”

Chace gave her a lift of his chin and changed the subject. “Those books, they’re special to him. My advice, talk to him, put them where he wants them. He’ll probably want them close and tell the staff to leave them be.”

She nodded.

“Should we be concerned about the fact he’s not speaking?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet. They’re having a child psychologist come up and have a chat with him after lunch. They say at this point that it isn’t really surprising considering how he was living and how he was found. He’s not refusing to eat. He’s communicating nonverbally. He’s not agitated. Except for not talking, he seems to be in good spirits. He does have some hesitation around the nurses but they’re going gentle and he settles pretty easily. He doesn’t seem to like men very much so it isn’t just you. They have a male nurse on this ward, he came in, Malachi didn’t like it. He noted it immediately and assured me he isn’t coming back.”

That said a lot but Chace didn’t share what it said.

Faye went on, “We’ll know more when the psychologist speaks to him. But they’ve examined him and it isn’t physically that he can’t talk. Whatever’s holding him back is psychological.”

Chace nodded and asked, “Word from your parents?”

“All good. The house passed inspection. Apparently the spring schedule of foster care classes started last Saturday so they’ve enrolled Mom and Dad. But they’re going to place Malachi there tomorrow. Dad’s at work during the day but Mom works at home and can be around twenty-four, seven which they said is good. So it’s all in place.”

Silas was a geologist who worked for an environmental consulting company based in Chantelle. Sondra was a part-time bookkeeper who did the books for a variety of businesses in town including the Italian Restaurant, Holly’s Flower shop and La-La Land Coffee. She worked at home, available to Malachi. Perfect.

“You’ll wanna be there tomorrow,” Chace guessed and he knew it was accurately because Faye immediately nodded.

“I already called my volunteers. I’ll open up and get them sorted then the two of them are going to handle things. Mrs. Bagley has closed for me before. She has keys. That’s good too.”

“Right,” Chace muttered then he told her, “I’ll pick up some stuff for him, the book and bring it here after work but, darlin’,” he pulled her slightly closer and dipped his face to hers, “your Mom comes, you gotta give him time alone with her. Start teachin’ him to trust her. You don’t have to be gone hours but he’s gotta get used to her without you around. Okay?”

She nodded but she did it scrunching her nose. She had to do it, she knew it but she didn’t have to like it.

“He’s good now, Faye,” Chace said quietly. “Family. Food. Movin’ his fingers and toes. All the books he can want on that thing Silas bought him and to hold in his hands. He’ll be all right.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, leaning into him, her expression clearing.

He dipped his face closer to kiss her nose and when he moved back, he murmured, “I gotta go.”

“Okay.”

“He says he wants somethin’ else, call me and I’ll pick it up when I go out.”

“Okay.”

“See you here later tonight.”

She grinned and whispered, “Okay.”

“Your bed or mine?”

Her face got soft, her body melted into his and she asked back, “Which one do you want?”

His mattress was better. Her sheets were the softest sheets he’d ever felt in his life. Therefore, a tossup.

But her place was closer to La-La Land which meant he had more time with her in her bed and her shower before they headed for coffee.

“Yours,” he answered.

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