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  “That sounds like general procedure to me, Tina said slipping into her attorney persona. “Did you ask about being appointed as Jake’s foster parent?”

  “No, I didn’t know I could. She also said they’d have to put Jake on the Waiting Children List until I was approved for adoption under the new rules.”

  “I was afraid of that. Absent extenuating circumstances, they have to list Jake as available for adoption.”

  “Absent extenuating circumstances.” Brett hated it when Tina turned attorney on him. What he needed was a sympathetic friend, not an attorney. “Susan Green seemed to think the circumstances were extenuating enough,” he argued.

  “Maybe your new caseworker will, too, once she starts the case study and gets to know you better.”

  “I don’t know about that. I get the distinct feeling the adoption would go a lot smoother if I weren’t single.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah. What do you say, Tina. Wanna get married?” He managed a feeble smile.

  “Sorry, you’re too late. Been there, done that. I like my life the way it, just Amy and me. But I would like to meet the woman who could slip a ring on your elusive finger.”

  Brett thought of his frequent and fleeting romantic entanglements. “You’re right. Marriage would ruin our perfectly good friendship.”

  Tina laughed. “But, seriously, what’s next. I’ll help any way I can, legally or otherwise—short of marriage, that is.”

  “I’m not sure. What I do know is that no one is going take Jake away from me temporarily, or otherwise, without a good fight.”

  Chapter Four

  Molly hesitated at the door. She was late for the weekly staff meeting, and it was all Brett’s fault. If she weren’t so wrapped up in his case, she wouldn’t have lost track of the time. If she hadn’t been replaying yesterday in her mind on the way to the meeting, she wouldn’t have bumped into the mail bin in the hall and scattered her case files all over the floor. Hopefully, she could slip into the conference room without interrupting the meeting.

  Charles motioned to her. Good, he’d saved a seat. Molly slid into the chair next to him.

  “Did I miss anything?” she whispered.

  Charles shook his head.

  Flipping her pad to a clean sheet, Molly focused on the woman speaking, the senior director of adoptions and foster care.

  “Before we start our case discussions,” the director said, “I have the announcement we’ve all been waiting for.”

  The roomed buzzed with anticipation.

  “Korean Child Welfare has given Thayer House the official go ahead to begin accepting adoption applications from single parents, as of January 1.”

  Molly’s heart leapt with relief. One obstacle down, two to go. If only it could be as easy to keep Jake out of foster care and available for adoption until approval came through on Brett’s new application. Molly had gone over Brett’s application carefully and couldn’t see any good reason why he wouldn’t be approved. But—

  “Hey, girl, that’s your ticket,” Charles said, giving her a thumbs up sign.

  “I sure hope, so,” Molly replied, buoyed by Charles’ enthusiasm.

  “Folks.” The director waited while the room quieted. “I don’t have all the details yet, but I can try to answer any questions you have about the policy change. Or should we move on to our case discussions?”

  Apprehension rippled through Molly. Being new to the job, she hadn’t brought up a case for discussion before. Did she want to lay Brett’s situation out before everyone and risk censure for how she’d handled his case so far? She took a deep breath and cleared her throat, “I have a case that will be very much affected by the change. In fact, the whole adoption hinges on it. . . ”

  Molly left the staff meeting with her prayers answered and her self-confidence restored. Everyone seemed to be behind her. The director had advised her to complete Brett’s home visit report today so it could go out Monday with the regular bi-weekly packet to Korea. Several of her fellow caseworkers had encouraged her to include a recommendation that Jake remain with Brett until his new adoption application could be processed. Maybe she wouldn’t be risking her job, after all, going to bat for Brett.

  She dropped her case files on her desk. They could be filed later. What she needed to do now was call Brett. Reaching for the phone, she noticed the flashing light. Instinct told her the message was from Brett. Molly punched in her voice mail code.

  “Molly, this is Brett Cahill.”

  At the sound of his deep voice, the tempo of her heart picked up. She listened in a state of half dread, half jubilance while the message continued.

  “I want to apologize for storming out on you yesterday. I see where you’re coming from. You have to do your job. I can deal with that.” His voice became harsher. “But don’t misunderstand me. I’ll fight for Jake with everything I have. If we can’t work together, I’ll ask to have my case transferred to someone else.”

  What an easy out. She could call Brett back and tell him he would be better off working with someone else.

  Brett lifted Jake from the car seat and boosted him to his hip. Jake protested, chattering something in Korean, then saying, “Me big, walk.”

  Brett chuckled. “Okay, okay, but you have to hold my hand tightly. The cars drive along here pretty fast.” He made a whooshing sound to emphasize his point, prompting a giggle from Jake. Brett gave him a hug, breathing in Jake’s baby scent. No doubt about it, the kid was taking over his life. He gripped Jake tighter as if that action could block out all possibilities of losing him.

  “Down, Unca,” Jake shouted directly in his ear.

  Brett put Jake down and smiled at him. Taking the boy’s hand, he headed across the street to the row house Thayer’s had recently acquired as a residence for some of the older teens under their care. At Jake’s toddling pace the walk across the street took twice as long as it would have taken Brett alone.

  “This is it, Bud.” Brett pointed to a brown brick house.

  “Unca fiss?” Jake asked.

  “Yep, we’re going to fix it up.”

  The house looked solid enough from the outside, but Brett knew it needed complete renovation inside. That’s what had brought him and Jake here, bright and early on a Saturday morning. International Families United, a group of families in the area that had adopted Korean and Chinese children through Thayer, had organized a family workday to help with the reconstruction.

  Brett took a deep breath and pulled open the heavy oak door. He wasn’t hot on belonging to organizations, but he wanted Jake to have ties to his Korean heritage. He hoped continuing contact with other Asian children would help Jake to develop a good sense of self and feel good about his being different from the other children in their small community.

  And, while he might be new at this parenting stuff, he knew about home repairs. Over the years, he, Kate, and their mother had completely redone the farmhouse Mom had inherited from Grandpa, the house where he and Jake now lived. He smiled remembering those family projects. Grandpa in his wheelchair giving instructions on the early projects, Mom with her handy Readers’ Digest home repairs book talking them through later projects, after Grandpa was gone. Brett had agreed to lend a hand today, with the unconscious hope of creating similar memories for Jake.

  Brett and Jake stepped into the foyer of the house. A tug on his hand and the smell of fresh paint brought Brett back to the present.

  “Unca, Unca see.” Jake pointed at a group of people already busy working in the adjoining room.

  “I see. They’re painting the walls blue. Let’s get your coat and hat off and we’ll see if we can help.” Brett bent to unzip Jake’s jacket.

  “See Boo,” Jake said.

  “Yep, blue.”

  “See Boo,” Jake insisted, pointing determinedly. Brett squatted and observed the room from Jake’s perspective, but he still couldn’t figure out what had the little guy so excited. Jake continued to point and talk,
alternating between Korean and English and punctuating every couple of words with “Boo.” Understanding any two-year old’s speech was hard enough, let alone one who used two languages interchangeably as Jake did.

  Brett managed to slip off Jake’s coat and hat and started to remove his own leather jacket. Jake took off like a shot, running into the next room as fast as his chubby little legs would carry him. Brett quickly caught up with him at the base of a stepladder.

  “See, Boo. Hi Boo,” Jake called.

  Brett followed Jake’s gaze up the ladder, taking in a pair of legs and a nicely rounded behind. Here was a woman made to wear black leggings. Interested to see if the face matched the legs, he glanced quickly over the powder blue sweatshirt and directly into a pair of disconcerting green eyes.

  “Molly!” He hadn’t expected to run into her here. Brett watched her reaction carefully. She stood perfectly still gripping the ladder with one hand and holding a paint roller mid stroke with the other. Their unresolved differences hung heavy between them.

  Molly cleared her throat. “Hi, Brett.” She offered a tentative smile. “How’s it look?”

  He stared blankly.

  She waved her paint roller. “The room. It’s starting to look good, isn’t it?”

  He looked around the room, giving Molly another once over in the process. “It’s looking real good.” He watched her put down the paint roller and climb down the ladder, thoroughly enjoying every step she took. When she reached the floor, she turned and stood inches away, looking up at him smiling. He should say something more about the project, something to keep them on the right footing here. But his mind had gone blank.

  Jake broke the silence by squeezing between them. “Hi, Boo,” he said to Molly.

  Confusion spread across Molly’s face. She looked to Brett for help. “Boo?”

  Brett laughed as understanding flashed. “He thinks your name is Blue.”

  “Blue?” Molly laughed back. “Makes me sound like a faithful old hound dog. Good ole Blue.” Her humor faded. But, hey, hadn’t that always been the case? Dependable Molly. Everyone’s pal. Maybe it was written somehow on her face in a code only guys—big and small—could read.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Brett continued to laugh.

  Molly noticed that when he laughed the harsh planes of his face softened and that single dimple appeared in his left cheek. He seemed a lot less imposing, even at this close proximity. She thought about stepping back, putting some space between her and Brett, but the ladder stopped her. Instead, she leaned against the ladder, half sitting on one of the steps, and waited for an explanation.

  “Jake pointed to this room when we walked in,” Brett said. “I thought he was asking what the people were doing. I told him, they were painting the room blue. He must have been pointing at you and picked up on the word blue.” Brett crouched down to Jake’s level and pointed at Molly. “This is Molly.”

  Jake stepped closer and patted Molly’s arm. “Boo.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “My sweatshirt is blue.”

  Jake nodded emphatically and repeated, “Boo.”

  He looked so adorable with his wide grin and plump rosy cheeks, she wanted to reach out and give him a big hug. That surprised her. She usually didn’t go all gaga over babies and small children. She stopped short of touching him, though, remembering how he shied away from women. Molly didn’t want to upset him, or Brett.

  She leaned closer. “My name is Molly. I’m Molly, not blue.”

  “My Boo,” Jake said as he patted her leg.

  She threw her hands up and laughed. “I guess I can live with Boo until he figures everything out.”

  She pushed off the ladder. Jake had moved to Brett’s side and wrapped his arms around his leg. Molly found herself standing very close to Brett again, with no Jake between them. Brett smiled down at her. His dimple flashed and his luminescent brown eyes looked expectant. She should say something, but his smile left her tongue-tied. What was it about this guy that wiped away all her confidence and professionalism?

  Finally, her brain kicked back into gear, “Did you get my message?”

  “Sure did,” he said with that smile that could melt an ice cap. “It made my day.”

  “Brett,” she warned her characteristic caution creeping in. “Nothing is settled yet. We have to see what the directors at KCW have to say when they receive your home study update.”

  His eyes darkened, making her wish she could take her words back. She had such an unwanted talent for putting a damper on good times.

  Molly glanced from Brett’s shadowed face to Jake’s grinning one. “But this isn’t the time or place to talk about it.” Searching for a way to sound more positive, she added, “We can meet sometime next week after I hear from KCW.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said.

  Disappointed that they’d lost the playful mood, Molly said a little too cheerfully, “For now, we’d better get you to work. Which detail did you sign up for?”

  “I’m supposed to be helping with the insulation and sheet rocking upstairs.”

  “You should check in with Charles. You’ve met him. He’s over there in the Syracuse jersey.”

  “Gotcha.” Brett picked up Jake.

  The baby grinned and waved at Molly. “Bye, Boo.”

  “Bye, Jake. Brett, I’ll see you later?”

  Brett nodded again. He took a couple of steps and stopped dead. After looking around the room, he turned back to Molly with a frown and stated the obvious. “I don’t see any other kids.”

  Molly pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing. “A group of the Thayer teens are watching the smaller children in the room off to the right of the foyer. After you get your assignment from Charles, you can check Jake in with the baby-sitters.”

  As Molly watched him continue across the room, she couldn’t help but give him a good once over. Hey, fair’s, fair. She went back to her ladder and paint whistling to herself. A few minutes later, Molly reached her full arm’s length to catch a spot on the wall she’d missed. The ladder lurched. Looking down to see if she’d placed the ladder on something that had made the footing uneven, she saw a little round face grinning up at her.

  “Hi, Boo.” Jake had climbed on the first step of the ladder. Apparently, the baby-sitters weren’t doing such a good job.

  “Hi, Jake. She shook her head and smiled back. “You have to climb down and let me down. I don’t want to fall.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Down, sweetie.” She pointed to the floor.

  His eyes lit with understanding. “Down.” He climbed to the floor. “My Boo, down.”

  “I’m coming.” Molly climbed down the ladder. A girl of about fourteen rushed over.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “He’s so quick. I was reading the little kids a story and all of a sudden he was gone. I came after him as soon as I noticed. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  Molly recognized the teen as one of Charles’ “kids,” a girl who had recently been placed with Thayer House because of suspected abuse by one of her mother’s male friends. Her crestfallen expression tore at Molly’s heart. She knew all too well the feeling of trying hard to win the love and approval of those around her. She’d done it often enough herself as a child.

  “He’s quick, all right.” Molly patted the girl on the shoulder. “Let’s take him back and I’ll assure Charles that everything is fine. He’s a good friend of mine.”

  Relief spread across the girl’s face. Molly motioned for her to pick Jake up. She did and Jake let out with an ear-splitting howl. Molly feared the girl would burst into tears, as well.

  “Stay, Boo,” Jake screamed. “My Boo.”

  Molly took Jake from the girl and he stopped his howling, but not the tears. “I’ll watch him. You go on back to the other kids,” she said to the girl. “It’s okay.”

  “Whatever,” the girl said, making Molly wonder if she could have handled the situation better.


  Jake sniffled and hiccupped. “Where Unca? Jake help Unca.”

  Upstairs, Brett and other volunteers were ripping out old plaster walls, putting in insulation, and installing sheet rock. Not a good place for a curious toddler.

  Molly put Jake down and got him a paintbrush from her paint tray. She dipped it in paint, and taking his hand in hers, moved the brush up and down on the wall, marveling at how his tiny hand made hers seemed large in comparison, and she had small hands.

  Feeling Jake’s little hand in hers brought evoked a memory of her mother’s hand covering hers, showing her “the right way” to play the piano. Molly had never done well enough at her music lessons to please her mother. Picking up her paint roller, she shook her head. Being around these kids brought up too many thoughts she’d rather forget.

  Jake swiped the brush across the wall until the paint ran out. Then, he discovered the paint tray. Molly bent to refresh her paint roller and received a splash of paint in the face as Jake slapped the paint in the tray with his brush. Light blue paint speckles covered his denim overalls.

  “Pay.” He smacked the tray.

  “Yes, paint,” she said, taking the brush from him. She could see she wasn’t going to get any work done with Jake “helping” her.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up and go see what your Uncle Brett’s doing.” A quick wipe with a damp cloth took care of most of the paint. She took his hand in hers. “Come on.”

  The quizzical look on Jake’s face told Molly he didn’t understand. Maybe she’d spoken too quickly for him.

  Jake stood fast, his lower lip thrust out. “No, pay.” He stomped his foot.

  “No, sweetie, we’re going to go upstairs and watch Uncle Brett work. Come on.” She took his hand in hers, but he didn’t budge. Molly preferred not to pick him up and get herself covered with paint. She dropped his hand and tried to reason with Jake. “Upstairs to watch Brett.” She pointed to the circular stairway.

  Suddenly, Jake’s face brightened. “Unca, up.” He grabbed Molly’s hand and started pulling her to the stairway.