She begins to speak, but the words lodge in her throat and she stammers for a moment. “After my father left us, my mom just gave up. There were times she tried, but her pain was too great. She used to say the drugs helped her forget her loss, helped her not feel. No matter how many times I was taken away, I tried to do things to find my way back to her. I didn’t want anyone to want me so I could be with my mom.”

A tear escapes her eye and slides down her cheek, and this time she’s slow to wipe it away.

“I ran away more times than I can count. I really thought I could take care of her, but I could never fix her. There were times when she would take off and I found myself alone…scared….hungry. I wasn’t sure if she was alive or dead. There were times, I didn’t care; I just wanted it to be over.”

I move closer to her on the couch and reach my hands out for her to give me the book. She hands it over willingly and I turn the pages to the poem I want to share with her.

“There was a time when I had no place to go,” I tell her. “No one to run to.”

She tilts her head, confused by my admission.

“My parents died when I was little and there was no one,” I clarify. “I was alone. Then, just before I graduated high school, I met a family that made a home for me. I was never adopted, but I found a home nonetheless. Now, I have managed to create a family for myself, with those I surround myself with. I guess you could say I was blessed to get to choose my family.”

I hand her back the book with the page of the poem open for her to read. I point to a line and she reads aloud. “Never to suffer would never to have been blessed,” she whispers.

Her eyes don’t move from the page; she lets the words settle on her, sink into the fabric of her identity. “I figure if I hadn’t experienced the pain of my past, I would never have been able to appreciate the gifts I have in my present,” I murmur. “Do you think you’re ready now to accept what the world could offer for you?”

She doesn’t hesitate; her head snaps up and her eyes meet mine. “Absolutely,” she says confidently. “I know I’ve missed my chance for a family, but someday I would like to create my own, just like you did.”

“It’s never too late, Leah. You just haven’t met the right people yet. I promise to help change that.” I know I’m breaking a huge rule here; I should never promise something I may not be able to follow through on. I need to make her believe she hasn’t experienced the hell she has for nothing, though, that there are great things in store for her and she will be loved…like all kids should be.

I pull out my phone and scroll through the numbers until I come across the number I’m looking for. A person with the biggest heart I know, someone who would care for this child like her own, and who deserves a happily ever after just as much as the girl sitting next to me.

Leah scowls, the line between her brows creating a deep divide. “I’m starting right now,” I tell her with a smile and stand from the couch. I raise my finger to Leah to stay put as I walk away from the couch. The phone rings and I hold my breath, waiting for her to finally pick up.

“Hey, Cam. What’s up,” she says cheerfully through the phone.

A rush of air leaves my body as I try to steady my voice. I don’t usually ask for much from these girls, but in this instance, I’ll be asking for everything.

“Can we meet?” I ask. “There is something important I want to talk to you about.”

“Sure,” she says. “The plane for Vegas leaves in the morning; how about we meet just before?”

“Thank you. See you in the morning, Carly.”

Carly

I could have guessed a million and a half reasons why Campbell wanted to talk to me, and I would have never been correct. As much as I wanted to have more children, the thought of fostering a teenager, one I’ve never even met, no less, is something I never would have thought to consider.

My divorce isn’t final yet, I’m just getting on my feet, and I don’t think I would even be approved to be a foster parent as a single person. Campbell was quick to squash all negativity and misinformation I had about the process, but still, I need time to think about the possibility of bringing someone into my home…into my life.

While Campbell thought the decision was a no brainer, I’m hesitant. I don’t even know if I’m a strong enough person to handle the emotional back and forth that a foster parent could possibly go through.

I haven’t thought of anything else since she spoke with me.

As soon as the plane landed and we caught the shuttle to our hotel, I immediately checked in and changed into my pool attire. My body went through the motions, but my brain was stuck in first gear, my thoughts with a young lady back home with no one and how her last effort for a family lies with me. I should turn Jen loose on Campbell for putting me in such a difficult situation.

My mind wrestles with the possibilities until screeching from the other side of the hotel lobby puts an immediate halt to my wondering thoughts.

“Woohoo, hot momma!” Jen shouts from across the room, drawing the attention of everyone in the near vicinity. My eyes widen and I search the area for people who have honed in their attention on the obnoxious interruption. Completely mortified, I cover my face from onlookers and l scurry over to my friends as quickly as my legs can carry me. We agreed to meet in the lobby before going to the pool, and I’m now regretting that decision.

“Seriously, Jen, we are in public. You could exercise just a little restraint,” I say when I finally reach her.

She bounces up and down on her toes, excitement from the Vegas atmosphere written all over her face. “Oh, simmer down, girly,” she says, wrapping her arm through mine. “Look around. We will probably never see any of these people ever again. Don’t worry about what they think. We are here to let our hair down and have fun. So, get with it!”

With each sentence, her voice grows in volume until her pep talk feels more like a motivational speech for an audience of a thousand. I look back to both Campbell and Vivian, who are following behind us, grinning at the ridiculousness of Jen’s very public announcements and my embarrassment. I roll my eyes at them and allow her to drag me toward the pool entrance.

Jen smiles and giggles as she continues to speak about all of the fun we will have and all the men she will throw my way as a christening back to singlehood.

The sun nearly blinds me when we step outside, and I slide my sunglasses down off my head to block the light. Tanned bodies of twenty-somethings line the poolside and have taken over the first rows of lawn chairs.

Snaking through the chairs, Jen leads us toward a roped off cabana area that shows a “Reserved” sign hanging from the tent. Chairs, inside and outside the tent, as well as coolers and tables fill the space, but before we have a chance to enter, Jen suddenly stops, causing Vivian and Campbell to smash into us.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus, what are you doing here?” Jen asks a man sunbathing outside the tent. She is absolutely not pleased with his presence and her displeasure is evident in her tone. “Casen may have invited you, but you are not invading my girls’ day.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her tirade, instead takes a sip from his fruity umbrella drink. I have a hard time looking at his face; my eyes are too narrowed in on his tanned muscles, which are covered in tattoos. His long mess of a hairstyle is piled into a man bun on top of his head, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why Jen would be so angry at such a beautiful man.

“Royce, this is kind of a special day. Isn’t there another place at the pool you could be, or go hang out with the guys?” Campbell offers.