“No, permanently.I’mnot home much, so it doesn’t feel like it matters whereIam.”
“So,”Mackenziesays, “you just moved in all your stuff?”
“EverythingIown fits into two suitcases— a carry-on size and a check-in size.”BothMackenzieandCharlieare just looking at me, seeming baffled.SoIexplain more. “Ican check out wheneverIgo on an away mission and justleave my extra suitcase in the trunk of my car.ThenIcheck back in whenIget home.Inever have to worry about watering a plant, feeding a pet, or cleaning.I’mgood to go at any moment.It’sperfect for a field operative.”
“Doesn’tthat get expensive?”Mackenzieasks.
“Imean,Idon’t stay in nice hotels—Ionly need a place to sleep.AndIam away on missionsa lot, so there are many nights every month whereI’mnot paying for a place at all.Plus,Irack up a lot of points.”
“Butyou don’t even have one hotel that you call home?”Mackenzieasks.
Ishake my head.
Charlie’seyebrows are still drawn together. “Howdo you cook food?”
“Oh,”Mackenziesays. “Doyou have a waffle maker?BecauseIcan show you how to make the best cornbread ever in a waffle maker.”
Now, my eyebrows are the ones drawn together. “I… don’t have a waffle maker.Idon’t cook food.Alot of timesIhave a mini microwave, though.”
They’reboth quiet for a moment beforeCharliesays, “Yougrew up in foster care, right?Haveyou ever been able to pick your own comforter, curtains, furniture, anything?”
Ishift my feet. “No.”
“Don’tyou want to be able to?”
TheanswerIalways tell myself isNo.Idon’t care about any of those things.Butdeep down, truthfully,Ido.SoInod.ButI’mtwenty-six years old, andIdon’t have the first clue how to pick out home things for myselfbecauseI’venever done it before.It’sembarrassing.Admittingit would feel like admitting thatIdon’t know how to cook toast or boil water.Sure,Ibought my own bedding whenIfirst left foster care.ButIfound it at a thrift store, and the gray and blue plaid comforter was the only option they had.
“Weshould take you shopping, then!”Mackenziesays. “Me, you,Charlie, and my friend,Livi, because she’s really good at stuff like that.”
Charlienods. “Everyonedeserves to have a place where they get to choose at least one thing there.Somethingthat makes them happy.”
Icock my head and try to swallow down the rising emotion.Wouldthey really just accept me into their circle this easily?Theyhardly know me.
Charliepeeks around the corner and gives a quiet yelp. “He’scoming out!”
LedgerandIboth lean forward to see the tablet inMackenzie’shands.He’swalking out of the building with a little boy who is probably five years old and a woman whoI’mguessing is the boy’s mom.
“He’smarried?”I’mpretty sure it’sBlake’svoice coming through our comms.
“He’snot married,”Charliesays.
“Yeah, he’s not paying any attention to the woman,”Emersonsays in our earpieces. “Hisentire focus is on the kid.”
Iknow exactly what is happening because something similar happened to me as a child plenty of times.Itwas one of the few perks of being a foster kid. “Thekid isfascinated with construction stuff.Owenis giving him a tour.Showinghim all the cool equipment.”
“Aww,”Charliesays. “Thatis so cute.”
Wedon’t have sound wired whereOwenis, so we all just watch the screen asOwentalks to the kid, crouched down, so he’s at his height.Thenhe hands him something that looks like it was either a piece of the original brick or tile or maybe even a piece of trim.Thekid looks at him with wide eyes and a face full of wonder.Thenthe kid hugsOwen, and there’s a chorus ofAwwsfrom everyone, including the guys in theSUV.Althoughtheirs sound not quite as genuine.
Thekid and his mom wave goodbye and head away, andOwenstarts walking in our direction.Hepulls a tool from his belt— a pair of pliers, maybe?— and tosses it in the air, spinning, catching it, and repeating, all while whistling a jaunty tune.
“Ohmy gosh,”Mackenziesays, “he’s as cheerful as you are.”
“Ifyou’re both in the same room,”Ledgersays, “we might need to install some solar panels to harness all the sunshine.”
Charliejust turns to us and flashes a grin. “Okay, we can go now.”
“Don’tyou want to go talk to him?”Mackenzieasks.
