Navy Blue Eyes

Kellin watched carefully in the rearview mirror as Rowan fumbled with the box of alcohol swabs they'd been supplied with, waiting for the light to turn green. His mind was raging, thoughts moving at the speed of light as he tried yet again to make sense of the past month of his life. No matter how often he tried to grasp the idea that Rowan could be theirs forever the thought seemed to slip through his fingers like sand, it was just too surreal. As the light switched he pressed the pedal, only half paying attention to the road whilst mainly focusing on what was going on in his head. Could this all be real? Or was it some lengthy—albeit incredibly vivid—dream he'd awake from any minute?

He’d opted to let Rowan have her privacy, letting her sit in the back as she wished and not try to make conversation, instead plugging up his cell and playing music as he typically did anyways. She hadn't spoken a single word to him since they'd left the office, not even spared him a glance lasting more than a heartbeat, and Kellin watched as his worst fears came alive before his eyes. He'd lost her, hadn't he?

HONK. Horns blared behind him as he realized he'd been sitting at another light for much too long, busy with his thoughts. He stepped on it, now trying to shove all thought aside so as to get to his destination without incident. The ride back to Kate's parents felt much longer this time with the tension in the car taught like a tightrope, threatening the snap under their weight at the slightest breath in the wrong direction. Finally, they pulled up in the drive, but Rowan didn't even speak to ask where they were, nothing was important enough to make her speak it seemed. Kellin parked behind his father-in-law's SUV and unbuckled himself, turing to Rowan to find her with her legs tucked to her chest and her forehead against her knees.

“Rowan,” he tried, but she didn't raise her head, “we’re here.”

She didn't act as though she'd heard him but as soon as he turned around to unplug his cell he heard her door pop open and snap shut, and he was alone in the car. He followed suit, feeling her trail behind him as they walked to the front door and knocked. Kate answered, Copeland standing behind her leg until she saw her father bend down to her height, at which point she toddled out the door quickly and straight into his arms. Kellin chuckled at the sight, but even holding his baby girl couldn't help him forget the immense guilt weighing his chest down like a lead ball. Kate ushered them inside and Rowan followed as they wound through the main level to the kitchen at the back. Kate's mother, Julie, deemed Glamma by her grandkids, was at the stove cooking and her father, Arthur, otherwise called Pop, was leaning against the counter nearby, laughing at something his wife'd said prior to the others' arrival.

“Mom, dad, this is Rowan,” Kate announced, pulling Kellin from his tangled thoughts of guilt and fear, to see Julie wiping off her hands hurriedly and turning to Rowan with a large smile.

“Nice to meet you, missy, we've heard quite an earful about you from our daughter,” she strode across the kitchen and embraced Rowan in a loving hug, but Rowan only froze in response. “Welcome, you can call me Glamma, and that’s Pop.”

Kellin watched with pity as Rowan forced her lips to pull up into an attempt at a grin as Julie stood back again, allowing Arthur to step forward and give Rowan an equally cozy squeeze. They were affectionate people, which Kellin loved but he could tell even from here that it was all too much for Rowan. She continued to smile at them both falsely, mumbling, “Thank you. It's nice to meet you both as well. Is there a restroom I could use?”

Kate's mom smiled genuinely at the girl's politeness and nodded, directing her to the powder room, “Down that hall, second door on the right.”

Rowan turned and fled, Kate and Kellin exchanged a concerned glance, silently asking which of them should follow her. Kellin shook his head sadly, letting Katelynne know he wasn't the one Rowan wanted right now, and she understood, taking off after their foster daughter a second later.

Kellin returned his attention to Kate's parents, bouncing Cope on his hip as he crossed the kitchen to give Arthur a hug and Julie a kiss on the cheek. He sat on a barstool, playing with Copeland as he addressed them, “Thank you for keeping Cope for us. It really helped.”

Arthur nodded, smiling at Cope in Kellin's lap, “It was no trouble at all, we love this little bit. With the boys off with their father, we were missing our grand babies.”

Kellin sighed, “Kate told you guys about Rowan then, her history, right?” Both nodded at him, "Right, good. Just… Just doesn't let on to Ro that you know, alright?”

“Nothing to worry about, Kell, we're here to help,” Julie promised.

“You are staying for lunch, right?” Arthur asked, now setting a prepared dish into the oven as his wife washed her hands and leaned back.

Kellin thought about it, meals weren't a simple thing for their family nowadays, but in the end this might be a good opportunity to discuss the day's events with Katelynne. “Sure, thanks.”

Julie waved off his gratitude with a kind smile, so like her daughter's that Kellin was so fond of, “Don't you dare thank us for feeding family,” she came to lean on the counter across from Kellin, her tone becoming serious. “Now, is Rowan family?”

Kellin sighed, unsure how to explain the complex situation quickly enough before the topic of conversation returned. He decided to say it how he felt it, “She is to me.”

Julie and Arthur smiled, the former patting Kellin's hand lovingly, “Then she is to us as well.”

At that moment Rowan reemerged from the hall, her face pale yet flushed, a look Kellin knew meant she'd been crying, and Kate in her wake. They took seats at the small breakfast table calmly, not a word slipping between them, and it was quiet until a timer went off shrilly, causing Julie to whirl around and pull a dish from the fridge and another from the oven, announcing calmly, “Lunch is ready.”



Lunch was its very own ordeal, separate from the rest of the day's issues but influenced by them all the same. Kellin hadn't had a chance to speak to Katelynne alone yet but felt it best not to push it until he thought Rowan would feel comfortable left alone with Kate's parents. Copeland giggled and grinned obliviously as Julie helped her eat, the rest trying to have relaxed conversation despite the fact that Kellin's eyes flickered to Rowan so often he looked as if he were having some sort of seizure.

“So what did you two get up to today?” Arthur asked cheerily, simply carrying on the topic and directing it to Kellin. The latter wasn't sure how to respond diplomatically without Rowan feeling uncomfortable. He truly just wanted to not bring the day up so he could hope Rowan would forget about it altogether.

“Nothing special,” Kellin replied bluntly, but Arthur didn't press it. The conversation drifted, Arthur now telling Kell and Kate about his and his wife's planned trip to their cabin up north for a week before they were to report to Kellin's house to look after their daughter and granddaughter whilst Kellin toured. Kate contributed memories of the cabin and they all laughed and smiled at the silly ones, it was pleasant. All the while Kellin had been watching Rowan studiously avoid eating.

Finally he had to intervene, he lent over to her a bit and spoke quietly, “Rowan you've got to eat something. C’mon." She didn't appear to notice him, but she wasn't outright mean either, just blank. He wasn't sure which scenario was worse. “Rowan, five bites. That's all I'm asking.” She stabbed up one long spaghetti noodle, twirling it around her fork, and ate it. He counted as she chewed, once, twice, three times… then lost count around thirty-two. But, however she had to do it, as long as she was eating. Her second bite was still only one noodle and took just as long to process and swallow. Kellin never lost patience, just continued until she had mushed and eaten five noodles. Without thinking about the gesture, he pulled her closer and kissed her forehead, but as soon as he realized what he'd done he drew back as quickly as she did, both acting as though that kindness hadn't happened. “Thanks.”

She just nodded, putting her fork down completely and winding her fingers together on her lap, covering her now slightly full stomach. Kellin was drug into the conversation once again, having been asked about how long the tour would last and how many days off they'd have and such. Things Rowan was vaguely aware she should pay attention to but her mind was elsewhere entirely. The meal passed quickly after that, Rowan refusing the ice cream offered, until Kate offered to take the dishes into the kitchen and Kellin followed.

Now Rowan was left with Kate's parents and Copeland, which was a very uncomfortable situation for her. But Kellin had to do this to have a minute alone with Katelynne. She washed, he dried and stacked, it was a good routine that didn't require much thought, allowing them to talk. He started.

“So…” he dried a mug that'd held coffee as he searched for the words, “as you can probably guess it went awful.”

“I assumed as much,” she sighed, using the back of her hand to wipe her forehead before returning to dishes. “She wouldn't talk to me in the bathroom. I went in there with her though, so I know she didn't do anything. Still, she refused to say a single word.”

“I really fucked up,” he muttered, maybe possibly gripping the glass a little too tightly as it cracked a sliver in his grasp. “Shit,” he placed it to the side, deciding to deal with it later. “I couldn't tell her. Like, I almost did, but I couldn't so she didn't even know until they started telling us how to use the needles. God, Kate, you should've seen the look on her face. I almost ran, I was so close, I just couldn't bear the way she looked at me.”

Katelynne set a plate down and toweled off her hand, using it to rub circles into his back just how she knew would calm him. “That's not your fault, babe. It was a bad situation but it isn't your fault. You were just doing what was best for her. It'll be okay, just give it time.”

Kellin shook his head wearily, “We don't have time.”

Kate's hand froze, still on his back, and she nudged him to face her, “What's that supposed to mean?”

Kellin drew in a deep breath, readying himself, “Before we left, her case worker pulled me outside… She, uh, said that… Well... shesaidwehaveuntiltomorrowtoeitheradoptrowanpermanentlyorletthemtakehertoanorphanage.”

She blinked, her face holding complete confusion, “The fuck?”

He had to look down, twisting the towel in his hands, “She said we have until tomorrow to either adopt Rowan permanently or let them take her to an orphanage.”

Kate's face dropped into a less confused but more pissed look, “How the hell do they expect us to make that kind of decision over night?! Huh?! That ridiculous! I'm calling somebody!”

“Shush shush shush!” Kellin hushed her, looking around as if spies were going to drop from the ceiling and tackle them, “I know, okay? I know. It's ludicrous. But it's the way it is. They don't want her continuing if we don't plan on keeping her for good. I know we haven't really talked about it since we’ve brought her home, what with the lack of spare time, but we have to now. I'm sorry, baby, because I know you're already stressed, but… I don't know, I just…”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Kate reached across to push a bit of his hair back, “stop blaming yourself. Still, not your fault babe.” She drew him closer, tossing the towel out of his hands and to the side, allowing his arms to encompass her waist as hers wrapped around his shoulders, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, “We're talking about this now. It's all good. But I have to know, what was their reasoning?”

“They said that with her health so rocky and with her leaving with me soon it'd be unlikely for her to find a steady home. They said, and I agree, that she needs the stability and promise that comes with having a permanent place to call home,” he murmured, rubbing one hand up and down her back soothingly. “So…?”

“I agree,” she began, “but you aren't always going to be able to take her with you on tours… She'll be with me a lot too, do you think she'd want that?”

“All she has are negative memories of family life. But that just means we have to help her un-learn that. She already trusts you more than you realize. It's only a matter of time before she adjusts,” Katelynne smiled at her husband’s words. "So you really think this is a good idea?”

“I do. Do you?” she countered, both knowing this was something that would effect the rest of their lives, not to be taken lightly.

He took a second, a deep breath, and looked directly into her deep brown irises. “Yes.”

“That's your answer then,” she concluded, planting a soft kiss on his lips before laying her head on his shoulder.

“Oh, my God,” he mumbled, “We're really doing this.”

“Well…” she drew away from him, looking him in he he eyes again, and saw his smile drop a bit, “no, no. We agree on doing this. It's just… We aren't the only ones involved.”

It dawned on Kellin then, this was Rowan's decision too. He gnawed on his lip, “Right. Well… I'll um, I'll talk to her. Tonight.” Kate nodded, giving him another peck before returning to their rhythm of wash and dry, both now feeling a little more complete than they had before, but it wasn't for sure until they got one more person's approval… The person who mattered most here: Rowan.



Arriving back at the house, Kellin began unloading Copeland's things while Katelynne and Cope went inside to rest. Rowan wasn't sure what to do with herself exactly, she knew she really wasn't ready to talk to anyone, but she also saw Kellin struggling under the weight of her foster sister's stuff and decided to help.

She made her way to the trunk, taking the diaper bag off Kellin's arm before he could protest. He opened his mouth but she cut him off quietly, “I've got it.”

Kellin still took the collapsible playpen and Kate's bag of meds and such as well as the brand new box of medical supplies for Rowan, though having Rowan's help made the load considerably lighter. She gripped the teddy in her hands and had one of Copeland's bags on either shoulder, but also managed to close the trunk and lock it whilst Kellin battled with the front door. They entered in the same sustained silence, both headed to the nursery where they set the majority of the items quietly, Rowan even placed the teddy bear beside Copeland's sleeping form softly. She was interrupted as Kellin cleared his throat and turned to see him standing by the door, waiting for her to exit. She did, hesitantly, and he closed the door silently behind her.

“Rowan,” his voice was barely above a whisper as they were near the rooms holding his sleeping daughter and wife, “uh,” he stuttered a second, clearly thinking hard about something, “go grab your skateboard, meet me in the living room.”

She didn't respond, just turned and walked toward her room. She wasn't sure what it was about, had she done something wrong? Was he going to confiscate her board? She refused to let that happen, it was one of the only things she'd ever owned that was hers completely and it was the only important thing other than a few photos and clothing that she'd brought from her old house. Granted, she didn't have many happy memories there but it was still her entire childhood and she knew it was impossible to just forget her past totally. Her board was one of the only good things from that era of her life. She was scared of what would come but she was also afraid to disobey. Her heart told her that was silly, Kellin would never hurt her, but her head flashed the memory of him aiming a needle at her stomach before her eyes and she felt her heart beat hasten.

No matter the internal debate, she made herself grab her board and walk back down the hall to find Kellin leaning against the armrest of the couch in a would-be casual stance that she could see right through. He was definitely not as calm as he was putting off, there was something beneath it that made her uneasy. She was sick of him keeping things from her, it made her sick to think he could be about to spring something else like that morning’s surprise on her again.

“Whatever I did, I'm sorry,” she whispered, her voice reverting back to the way she used to speak to Scott and she hated it, but he heard, and he looked as confused as she felt.

“What?” he questioned, pushing off the couch to stand upright before her, though still a couple of yards away.

“I'm sorry, for whatever it was, but please don't take my board. Just tell me what I did, I won't do it again.” She refused to let her voice quaver as she knew it might, instead taking every ounce of emotion out entirely, leaving her words void of feeling altogether and even she could hear the eerie emptiness.

“No, no. You've got it wrong, Ro.” She almost glared at the use of the nickname but fought to remain stoic, “I just thought we could get out of here a little while. If you'd like… There's a skatepark down the road, by the playground, if you want…?”

She was shocked, struggling to keep her deadpan expression, but nodded without really thinking about it. She'd been dying for fresh air, just to feel free for a minute. He gave her a small smile but she didn't return it, still unsure of his intentions. Either way she followed him as he led her out the door, locked it, and slipped the keys in his pocket. He opened the garage and walked inside, emerging a minute later with a board of his own before motioning her to follow him as they walked. Rowan noticed his board was much more expensive looking than her own but that didn't make her feel inadequate, for his appeared much less worn-in, and she assumed that meant he mostly had this for looks.

She threw her board down with her left hand, releasing the top a few inches from the concrete and pushing the rest of the way down with her foot as she kicked off, riding past Kellin before dragging her other foot on the ground to slow herself. He copied her, and she noticed he wasn't an atrocious rider, just not as comfortable. She had to pace herself not to get ahead of him as he was the one who knew where they were going, but at the same time she didn't care. She was more focused on her hair as it fanned back from her with the breeze, her right foot as it alternated pushing and dragging to find the right pace, and her left feeling as if the board were just an extension of her foot, like it was just as alive with nerves. It felt so damn good to be back at it. Kellin didn't fall but he didn't glide like she did, he wasn't connected to the energy of his board like she was.

They arrived at what she decided was the park, all concrete and ramps and rails, and she almost cried. It just felt so good after the day's events to be at this place where she felt so comfortable. There were a handful of other skaters, all busy messing around, but it still felt to Rowan as if she were the only one there. Kellin followed her with considerably less grace, watching as she went to what was once a pool but once it'd been drained it became the skater kids' main hangout, the rest of the skatepark was built around it. She flew off, her wheels gliding against the worn-to-silk concrete of what the skaters had deemed ‘The Ocean’, never faltering once. Kellin kicked his board up, just going to sit at the edge of the deep end as if he were letting his feet soak, watching fondly as she cruised The Ocean without hesitation. He was mesmerized, the way she transitioned from casual rider to all out pro in a heartbeat only made Kellin more proud to possibly be able to call her his daughter.

“What you doing here, old man? Had to take a nap? Riding too hard on ya?” One punk called from across the lot, Kellin rolled his eyes. Firstly, he was not old. Secondly, he wasn't even here for himself. He ignored them, but apparently they'd managed to get Rowan's attention as well because she skidded to a stop in the eight foot end and kicked her board up, tucking it beneath her arm and climbing up the metal ladder bolted to the side of the pool. Once she was above ground level she peered quizzically at the guys strutting their way. “Aw, little girl wanted to come play with grandpa?”

She didn't snap back as Kellin'd half expected, just pointed her board to the ground, so it was leaning against her leg, and lent her weight on it. “What're you here for? Trying to get a concussion?”

The first guy scoffed, flicking his black hair out of his eyes, and the two on his flanks chuckled. “Don't try to start fights you can't win, little girl,” he drawled, a cocky smile lazily tugging at his lips.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” she countered, still cool as can be. Her lips were spread in an equally proud but less pleased grin. “You're just a group of idiots whose brains are smaller than your average peanut, playing a game of Who Looks Like the Biggest Douche Today to cover up the fact that none of you have any talent on a board.”

Guy One snarled, his lip curling in detest. “Be careful, baby, you're messing with things too big for for you to handle.”

“Trust me, baby, I can handle all of you and your small dick complexes,” she shot back confidently, making the guy's eyes narrow menacingly.

“Prove it,” he spat, his glare malicious as he could manage. Rowan shrugged, as if he’d just asked her to pass him some water, and began rocking onto her board a little before dropping it, mounting, and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Name the game, I’m down,” she shot back smoothly, making the guys’ conceited smirks widen.

“Once around The Ocean, whatever you can do to impress: do it,” he simpered smugly. Rowan licked her lips briefly before half-shrugging again. “I’d say ladies first, but since children don’t count as women I’ll start.”

Rowan bit back her own confident smile, trying to look nervous. Ha. As if. He seemed to buy it, bumping fists with his buddies before kicking off and skating to the shallow end to ride in. Kellin had ridden, sure, but he had no idea what the hell all the tricks the boy did were called. All he knew for sure was that the punk wasn’t a faker, he was good. Also Kellin noticed that, where Rowan looked elegant and fierce on a board like an arrow slicing through chilly air as it propelled toward its target, this guy resembled more of a sword, all blind rage and aggression, as he made rough turns and sharp flips as if he were ripping through fine fabric with his blade.

Finally he faltered, one miscalculation resulting in a failed ollie and he was skidding against the pool’s walls until he reached the bottom. He huffed, clearly not used to failing, and stomped off to grab his runaway board while dusting himself off. He mounted the same stairs Rowan’d climbed before and was by his friends, trying not to limp it seemed, and nodding for Rowan to go. She put on a good show, Kellin saw, of acting concerned that she would lose but he knew her too well, there was this confident set to her shoulders that told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

If Kellin thought Rowan looked elegant on her board before then he wasn’t sure what to call her now. There was this top layer of concentration, her eyes constantly on where her board would be next, and it never slipped. But beneath that was a raw sense of power, grace, and beauty. She made it look like an olympic ice routine with the way her hips pivoted and her feet shifted only fractions, allowing her to practically fly as she glided over the chipped and gratified aquamarine Ocean. Her breathing stayed almost rhythmic, the scraping of worn-out wheels on concrete taking on a musical tone, and her arms hovering at hip-level as if she were surfing until she’d reach for her board and perform some near-impossible feat before resuming her position. She was a ballerina on wheels, an artist, a magician… and no matter how many fantastical things she managed to pull off she went on to top them with an even more impressive trick. Kellin was too entranced to check how the guys were reacting but he did hear a collective intake of breath from the group as Rowan managed to lift her entire weight into the air, gripping the pool’s edge with one hand, and then fall back to a perfect placement to grind along the wall. His heart would flutter every time she did some stunt, his stomach feeling like it might want to rebel against him, and his hands got sweaty. He knew it was silly, there was no way he could rescue her from his place even if she did fall and before he knew it she was skidding to a halt and hiking herself up the ladder with a calculated grin painted across her lips. Kellin wanted to cheer or take a picture or brag about this to random people, as if she’d just won a gold medal, and he suddenly understood why parents cried when their children walked across a graduation stage. Maybe it would seem silly to some that he was this excited over something like a skate-off between kids but he didn’t care, he was ridiculously proud of Rowan.

“Well I’m gonna go find something here that actually challenges me, but I’m happy I got the opportunity to show you all what real skating looks like. You can run along now.” Rowan shooed them off with a wave of the hand not clutching her board and Guy One’s cronies began to shuffle away. Rowan took note of the way the guy held his board up-and-down by its wheels, so that it was against his leg, and she knew he only ever took up skating to be ‘cool’, as was evidenced by what was called the ‘mall grab’, the wannabe skaters’ way of carrying their boards whereas hers was under her arm, running horizontally. Kellin tried not to look too pleased on her behalf and it wasn’t much of a struggle once he noticed the leader of the group hadn’t moved. “Go.”

He ignored her order, just walking slowly forward as if he was traipsing across eggshells. “How– How the hell did you learn to skate like that?”

Rowan looked bored, tired, and annoyed and Kellin was suddenly reminded of what she’d gone through already today. He spoke up for the first time since the punks showed, “She said go, so go.”

He ignored Kellin as well, just stood there watching Rowan as if she were some object behind a plate glass window in a museum. “I’m Casey.”

Kellin wanted badly to just escort the kid away, afraid he’d pick a fight with Ro, but he resisted. Both guys were surprised when Rowan spoke. “…’M Rowan.”

He grinned wider now, “Well, Rowan, you have my respect. And apologies.”

She nodded in confirmation and Kellin wished she was turned so he could better gauge her expression, only seeing the side of her was disconcerting to him in this situation. No more words were exchanged as Casey took an old receipt out of his pocket along with a Paint Sharpie he’d presumably planned to tag the already graffitied walls with and scrawled something on the paper. He handed it to Rowan, nodded, and turned to go. Kellin watched closely as Rowan stayed still before crumbling up the paper and shoving it in her pocket.

Eventually Rowan turned back to Kellin, the latter of whom was beginning to feel nervous of the discussion he knew lay ahead of them, and she sighed. “I’m tired.”

He nodded, it didn’t surprise him at all with what all she’d undergone today, and he patted the cool concrete beside him, “Can we talk before we go back though?”

She seemed apprehensive, setting her board on the ground where he’d motioned and sat atop it, her knees to her chest as she moved herself side-to-side. “What about?”

Kellin found it was impossible to get her to look him in the eyes so he settled for looking at the painted floor of the pool before him, “You know… Today. Tomorrow. Life. Everything in between.” She stayed quiet so he went on, his voice a little shaky, “I completely understand if you’re upset with me. I– I wanted to tell you, I did, but I just couldn’t handle the thought of you looking at me like I was a monster. Someone you couldn’t trust. I know it was a stupid move but I just couldn’t do it. And I’m sorry for that. I’m also sorry that you had to go through today at all. I wish I could take it all away, fix it for you, but I just can’t. Not without the help of the medications. I hate that it has to be this hard for you, I really do. But I’m still here. I’m here and I’m still not going anywhere.” He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what he knew he needed to say next, “I… I need you to hear me out. What I’m about to ask is a really big deal, okay?” Finally her eyes met his and they were almost blazing with a concoction of fury, hurt, and fear. “It’s not bad, I don’t think, it’s just a serious thing. I know you’re probably really worn out with me right now, maybe even hate me, but I want you to try to think about this with an open mind and heart, don’t let the days’ events cloud your thoughts or even your entire pasts’ memories. Alright?” She nodded, the tiniest bob of her head, and Kellin swallowed thickly again. “Would you want to be part of my family?”

She blinked, her expression one of confusion, “Um… I– I thought I sort of… was already. Am I not?”

“No. I mean, yes. You are. I mean– Fuck. I meant permanently. As in for good. Forever.” He was afraid to look at her now but when he did he just saw a blank look.

“I know what permanent means,” she countered, and for a moment Kellin thought that was all she had to say, but she went on, “Are you talking about adoption?”

Kellin nodded, “Kate and I have been thinking about it since the beginning but we didn’t want to just, like, claim you and trap you in a place you weren’t comfortable. And then Ms. Greene said that, since you’ll be traveling with me and all, you needed to have a permanent place, be it with us or someone else. And I just really can’t fathom the idea of you living somewhere else, calling someplace else home… But, I want whatever you want. If I’ve done too much damage… if I’ve pushed too hard or done the wrong thing too many times, then I’ll let you go. If that’s really what you want. I don’t want that, I mean, but I just… I want you to be happy. Whatever that means.”

The silence ensnared them with its thick chains, blanketing them in a chill totally unrelated to the weather. It stretched on, seeming like hours to Kellin and milliseconds to Rowan. Her hands and feet were numb, her heart carving a cavern in her chest, and her head felt as if it were detached from the rest of her body. This was it, this was what she’d been subconsciously waiting for her entire life, she realized. With one word, either way, her life would no longer be hanging in the balance, she would have some kind of drastic change.

No: no vulnerability, no dependency, no fear of the new, just a life as she lived it now with no ties to the world around her and halfway to her grave, just how she’d always liked it, just as she thought she was meant to be. Yes: an actual home, a father who wants to catch her if she trips over her own two feet, a mother who makes her breakfast even when she feels too sick to eat anything herself, two brothers who like to play video games and want to skate as well as she does, a little sister who wants to emulate her, a christmas tree to decorate together even if they drop and shatter a few ornaments, a backyard barbecue on her birthday… It was too good to be true, it was all she’d ever fantasized about late at night lying on the pleather couch in the corner of her late mother’s hospital room.

Could she really do this? Could she turn her back on everything she’d ever known to be true, and blindly trust these people to prove her past wrong? Could she free fall into the world of hot chocolate and Harry Potter movie marathons and kisses on the forehead and hands to hold when things get tough? You might think she’s crazy not to accept in a heart beat… but trust wasn’t something she’d ever felt or understood until recently. Her mind whirled with a million and one thoughts but her heart had already made a decision.

“Can I have a little bit to think about this?” she asked, attempting to sound polite despite the lump in her throat. She swallowed hard, trying to force it to disappear, but it stubbornly remained.

Kellin coughed, trying to clear his own voice to keep it from cracking with nerves, “Sure. We have until tomorrow morning. Let’s go back.”

She waited until he was standing again before following, kicking her board up and carrying it as they walked back up the street. Only one night to make this choice. Well, in actuality she’d already made the decision, but voicing it was entirely another entity.



Later that evening Rowan could be found in the living room, though not by choice. She wasn’t allowed to be alone still. Therefore she was being babysat while Katelynne microwaved some leftovers for dinner and Kellin watched the hockey match. It was awkward to say the least, other than the announcer’s voice drifting from the television it was silent, and Rowan had chosen to sit in the armchair, furthest away from Kellin who was sat on the couch. Neither of them were sure what to say so neither said a word.

“Here,” Katelynne’s voice yanked Rowan back to the present as she handed the girl a plate of leftover macaroni, taking a plate for herself and her husband over to the coffee table. Rowan noticed Kate hardly touched her plate, and for once someone in the room ate less than the girl who never felt full. Kellin’s ever-watchful eyes studied Rowan as she ate six mouthfuls of the pasta, surprising everyone in the room that she did so without a fight, but no one questioned it.

Rowan’s hands shook as she clutched her fork between icy fingers, her fear manifesting itself in her every move. After what seemed an eternity of hockey fans cheering in crowds and play-by-plays, there was the smallest exhale. It might’ve been imperceptible amongst the TV chatter in any other home but here they were all on pins and needles constantly. Kellin and Katelynne’s eyes flashed to Rowan, trying to assess the origin of her sigh, and she met their gaze in a leveled way. Her shoulders locked, her knees shook, her hands trembled, her lips seemed to form words with no voice to match, and beads of cool sweat rolled down her spine like an ever-increasing avalanche snowball racing down a mountain. “I’m… scared. I think.”

That wasn’t quite what either of her foster parents were expecting and both took a moment to process it before Katelynne spoke in a hushed voice, “Of what?”

“I don’t really know,” Rowan tried, but it was obvious to all of them that wasn’t the full answer. With another small breath she began to speak her thoughts, unfiltered and unadulterated. “I love this. I love all of it, and at this point I can’t imagine my life without it… without you two. I honestly have no idea where I’d be if I hadn’t met you… probably in the morgue, if I’m being honest. But as much as this is becoming… normal… to me, it’s still new. I know this is hard for anyone who hasn’t been through it to understand. I get that. But just try to imagine, for a minute, a world different from yours. A life where everyone is out to get you. A childhood where runny noses and a cold so bad you cough up blood still doesn’t turn your mother’s head. A life filled with dread at the thought of waking up and walking downstairs when you know that you’re going to get fresh bruises in a matter of minutes. One where the people who brought you to life, who created you, are the very people harming you most. This twisted universe in which you had to be hungry for weeks until someone ran out of alcohol and had to go to the store. You wake up and before you even open your eyes you want to cry because you begged God to just let you die in your sleep and he didn’t. You feel betrayed by everything you’re supposed to find comfort in. How can you believe in a benevolent God when all you know is hatred? How are you supposed to believe things will get better when each day seems worse than the last? It’s pouring rain outside, your feet are soaking wet because your shoes have holes, you’re nine years old and every child your age dreams of a future where they can be anything they want to be, and all you’re thinking is that you haven’t eaten in days and your legs ache where you were kicked into a bloody pulp the night before. Your arms carry a box of cigarettes and two bottles of vodka that you stole because your mother demanded it and you don’t even feel bad about it because your moral compass is so royally fucked up, and then you see everything swaying around you and you start to pass out and your last thought is that you hope your face lands in a puddle and you drown. But you don’t. And then you have to explain to your drunk mother and step-father that you dropped one of the bottles and before you can even manage an apology you’re slapped so hard you spin around and hit the floor, where you’re left until you can mange to stand and hide in your room and eat the bag of chips you took from the convince store. Then picture your tenth birthday. You wake up to the sounds of shouting from downstairs and you find out your mother has a follow up appointment at the doctors and you thank your lucky stars because it means you’ll be alone and maybe you’ll go to the library and have your first ever happy birthday. But you aren’t left alone. There are these heavy footfalls coming up the hall and you squeeze your eyes shut and call out in your mind, ‘God, if you’re there just let Scott leave me alone.’ But the clomping keeps getting louder and you think, ‘Mommy, come home and distract him.’ But there’s only the sound of your bedroom door opening and his heavy breaths so you curl up as small as you can and pretend to sleep and think, ‘Daddy, I know you left us but now would be the perfect time to come back, I need you so much right now.’ And still no ones comes. And then what seems like years later you’re alone in your room and he’s left and taken with him the last shred of hope you had. He’s raped you for the first time, and you know that no one will ever want you now. You’re stained, tarnished, and for the rest of your life you will be damaged. All you can do is think back through every bad thing you’ve ever done, every lie you told and every time you wished your own parents dead and you try to weigh it out in your mind because clearly this was your fault. And you hear him laughing downstairs at something on the TV. You’re hurting too badly to even walk but you manage to crawl into the bathroom and you down a bottle of your mother’s sleeping pills because even at ten years old you know there’s nothing left to hope for, nothing to believe in, and you pass out on the cold floor only to wake up a day later because your body somehow survived and then you hate your own skin and your own blood and your own heart and you just want to cut your soul free of this mutilated, disgusting thing it lives in. So you cut yourself for the first time and you know right away that it won’t be the last. And that’s just the beginning. Every day, a new torture. Every day, reminded you have no reason to even exist at all, no one would miss you, no one would mourn you. I don’t know how to not be like that. I don’t know how to wake up to a hot breakfast and someone to hold back my hair when I can’t keep it down. It’s an effort for me just to close my eyes long enough to blink because I can’t imagine this is real, I can’t believe this is going to stay this good. I’m trying to learn, though, I want you to know that. I really am. But the idea of putting my life in your hands, making you take on the burden that is me and all my issues, seems too selfish. I can’t do that to you. You already have three children and they need your love and attention, I can’t let you be busy worrying how many times I chewed before swallowing or if there are any scissors around while you’re helping Cope cut out shapes for some art project. I’ve been rude enough to impose on you this long, it’ll be better if I go now before I make this any harder on you. I’m sorry that it’s taken this long for me to own up to it all.”

The silence stretched on, at some point in her soliloquy they must’ve muted the TV, and electricity seemed to crackle in the air like lightning. Rowan could no longer look at them, instead she glared at her knees and watched as drops of salty water began to dampen them. Katelynne was crying as well, tears rolling down her cheeks in what seemed a never-ending waterfall, and her hands were gripping her husband’s as if she were afraid of free falling the second she’d let go. Kellin… he was the worst off. His hands were white where his wife held on, his arms seemed detached from the rest of his body. He was immensely grateful he was sitting down because if he hadn’t been he was sure his legs would’ve given way beneath him. His jaw was taught and his teeth ground together as he fought to keep from sobbing, his throat felt dry but his eyes weren’t. Rivulets of tears flowed from his eyes, and he tasted saltwater as they fell to his lips and down to his lap.

No one could speak, no one dared to, until Rowan made a movement as if to leave. Kellin gave his wife’s hands a tight squeeze and she released him, at which point he lunged across the small expanse of the room and put his hands on her shoulders, making Rowan sit again. He was knelt before her and all over he seemed to quiver with suppressed anxiety. Kellin was now at eye-level with Rowan yet she refused to return his frightened stare. He swallowed repeatedly but wasn’t able to clear his throat of the lump there, eventually he gave in and spoke anyway, though his voice sounded choked to his own ears.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what that was like. But I can tell you that I need you– I mean it,” he added, seeing her skeptical expression as she glared at some invisible fiend over Kellin’s shoulder. “You didn’t know me before, you couldn’t see that I wasn’t always like this, but I’m telling you the truth. You have changed me for the better. You are still changing me. Your presence in my life has probably been one of the most crucial factors to how I’m able to function every day. You have never been, and will never be, a burden on us. In fact, you choosing to leave would be detrimental to my family. Please, I’m begging you not to do this.”

Rowan’s determined air seemed to waver, as if some small part of her was listening to him. But she fought against it. That is, until she accidentally locked eyes with Katelynne’s loving and absolutely anguished expression, at which point her resolve seemed to melt away and within the blink of an eye she flung her arms around Kellin’s neck and sobbed wholeheartedly into his shoulder. She mumbled words undistinguishable from gibberish into his shirt as she hiccuped and gasped, fighting for enough air to reach her lungs. Kellin’s tears fell onto her shoulder as well as his arms wrapped around her, lifting her up and carrying her over to sit on his lap on the couch, and he even let slip a few grief-stricken wails of his own until Rowan pulled back, only an inch, and murmured.

“I take it back, I want to stay. Please, please let me stay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you so much, please don’t let me go.” Her words were panicky and mixed with the gulps of air she took to keep from passing out. Rowan pressed herself as close to her foster father—was that still what she should consider him?—as she could and leaned her cheek against the sleeve of his shirt, facing Katelynne. Kate reached an unsteady hand across and brushed a few tears from Rowan’s cheeks though the effort was futile as more replaced them, streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes had never looked so dark, and so bright, than they did in that moment. She began to whisper the words over and over, as if she were shocked to hear them come from her own lips, “I love you both. Please, don’t let me go. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Kellin wondered if she’d ever said those words before, they seemed foreign to her own ears, but he knew for a fact that he’d never heard anything more beautiful. His reply was just as soft in volume as hers had been and twice as breathy. “I love you too, Rowan. We both do, and we aren’t letting you go anywhere without us.”

Katelynne pressed a kiss to Rowan’s forehead and continued to push her soon-to-be-daughter’s hair out of her face and intermittently swiping stray tears away. Kellin’s arms were still hugging her tightly and his left hand was making small circles between her shoulder blades in such a way that Rowan hoped he’d never stop. For the first time she could remember… she was content.