His phone charger permanently occupying an outlet in the kitchen.
Everywhere except his bedroom, he was beginning to leave evidence that he lived with us.
His room still looked like somewhere he might leave at any moment.
A month passed.
Josie began calling our house “home.”
Jace stopped calling Daniel and me “sir” and “ma’am.”
Then, one evening at dinner, Daniel made a terrible joke about pasta.
Jace laughed so hard that milk came out of his nose.
Josie screamed with laughter.
I laughed until my stomach hurt.
For a few minutes, no one was being careful.
No one was studying everyone else’s mood.
No one seemed to be waiting for something bad to happen.
Then Jace reached across the table and stole a piece of garlic bread from Daniel’s plate.
Daniel smacked his hand away.
“Get your own.”
Jace grinned.
Then he stole it anyway.
It was such a small, ridiculous thing.
But something about it made my chest tighten.
For the first time since moving in, Jace was behaving like a teenager who expected to still be sitting at that table tomorrow.
I remember looking around and thinking,
This is starting to feel like a family.
The next afternoon, my phone rang.
It was Marlene.
She had been Jace and Josie’s foster mother before they came to us.
She had called once earlier to see how they were adjusting.
I liked her.
She clearly cared about both children.
I told her that Josie had started preschool and that Jace had joined an after-school basketball program.
“He laughs more now,” I said. “Not constantly, but definitely more.”
“That’s good.”
“And Josie is sleeping through most nights.”
“Good.”
Then I mentioned that Jace had helped Daniel cook dinner the previous evening.
Marlene’s voice changed.
“He actually cooked with Daniel?”
Something about the way she said it made me pause.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing.”
She answered too quickly.
Then there was silence.
Not an ordinary silence.
Something had shifted.
“Marlene? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I just…”
She stopped.
Then she asked,
“They still haven’t told you why they chose you?”
At first, I smiled because I thought I had misunderstood her.
“Why they what?”
“Chose you.”
My smile disappeared.
“What are you talking about?”
Marlene hesitated again.
“That’s what I thought.”
“What?”
“You need to ask Rebecca why the kids chose your family.”
Before I could ask anything else, Marlene apologized and ended the call.
I stood in the kitchen staring at my phone.
They chose us?
Throughout the entire adoption process, I had assumed Daniel and I were the ones being evaluated.
Were we suitable parents?
Was our home appropriate?
Were we capable of meeting the children’s needs?
Apparently, the children had been evaluating us too.
And suddenly, everything about Jace came rushing back to me.
The guarded answers.
The watchful expression.
The bags he still hadn’t unpacked.
When Daniel got home, I told him about Marlene’s call.
“They chose us?” he asked.
“Apparently.”
We called Rebecca.
