"good judgment comes from experience, and experience - well that comes from poor judgment," - a.a milne

Freen had just finished wrapping up two paintings for Taran and receiving the payment when her personal phone rang.

She glanced at the caller ID and frowned when she read Nita's name. The girl rarely called her unless she really needed to.

“Sorry, could you give me a moment?” Freen asked, making both Becky and Taran nod.

“We’ll get out of your hair,” Taran said, grabbing one painting while Becky took the other. “Thanks again, Freen!”

Freen waved off her client before answering her phone,

“Nita, is everything alright?”

“I need you to get me,” Nita said, no indication of trouble or fear in her tone.

“From where? Is Emily with you?” Freen questioned in a slight frenzy, remembering that the two girls were supposed to walk home together.

“She’s at home. I’m at the mall. The security won’t let me leave until they talk to you.”

“Excuse me?” Freen asked, taking in the rush of information.

“I got caught stealing. Can you just come and get me?”

“Damn it, Pranita,” Freen said under her breath, rubbing her forehead and closing her eyes momentarily. “You have to wait there until I can get Emily. She’s six if you forgot, and legally can’t stay home alone,” Freen said bitterly, trying to convey how angry she was through her words.

“Sure, fine, just get here. They’re taking my phone away so I can’t call you again.”

“Fine,” Freen said, not in the mood to verbally admonish the teen over the phone.

“Wait, you aren’t going to tell P'Beer, right?”

“Well, I’m legally obligated as your foster parent to inform your social worker about this stuff so, yes, Nita, I’ll be telling P'Beer. I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Freen said, ending the conversation there.

She hung up and slipped her phone into her pocket before moving to grab the rest of her things.

She locked up her studio as quickly as possible, deciding to return the next day to re-organize and clean up.

For now, she was a mom on a mission.

-----

Becky shut the trunk of Taran's car and dusted her hands over her jeans before looking to her almost twin sister who was giving her a stupid grin.

“What?” Becky asked, already moving to her side of the car while Taran continued her creepy starring.

“Jesus, Tar, stop looking at me like that,” Becky ducked into her seat and puffed out an annoyed breath before Taran also plopped herself into the car and shut her door, the stare once more returning.

“You like her,” Taran hummed happily, making Becky roll her eyes.

“She’s the foster parent of one of my students.”

“But you like her,” Taran insisted, grabbing Becky's arm and shaking it excitedly.

Becky shook her head and pried her arm free from Taran's grasp.

“She’s very pretty, and makes for entertaining conversation, but I can’t do it. I can’t put myself through that again,” Becky mumbled the last part, looking to her lap in hopes of dropping the conversation.

“Stop it,” Taran insisted, leaning closer to try to regain her sister’s gaze. “Bec, don’t go down that road. C’mon, we’ve been over this-."

“My wife died, Taran! I get to be sad about that,” Becky snapped, making Taran lean back in her seat to give the other woman some space.

“Hey, I’m not saying you don’t get to be sad. All I’m saying is-,” Taran paused, contemplating her next words. She grasped Becky's hand and continued, “Heidi wouldn’t have wanted you to never love again. You’ve got a lot of life left to live and she wouldn’t want you to live it alone-."

“I’m not alone. I have you guys,” Becky interrupted, making Taran nod her agreement.

“Of course you have us. But everyone needs a person just for themselves. I’m not saying that Freen is the person that you’re going to marry and be with forever and ever, but I think if the interest is there then why stop yourself from pursuing it?”

Becky chewed the inside of her cheek and looked at the car parked in front of them. “I’ll think about it,” was all she could supply as a response.

It was enough to satisfy Taran who finally dropped the conversation entirely and moved to start the engine of the car.

“Are you feeling like cheesy garlic bread? Because I’m feeling like cheesy garlic bread,” Taran said as she merged into traffic and started in the direction of Becky's favourite pizza place.

“You’re always thinking about cheesy garlic bread,” Becky said though a small laugh. “But I’m down as long as we can get some wine to go with it.”

“That’s my girl,” Taran laughed, playfully flicking Becky's ear before she gave her arm a comforting squeeze.

-----

Arriving at the mall security holding area, Freen sighed when she realized P'Beer had beaten her there.

The social worker was talking to the security officer who was nodding in understanding and glancing at Nita every so often.

The teen was slouched in a chair, her fingers fiddling with her ear as she stared at the interaction through her eyelashes.

“Freen,” P'Beer said when she noticed the tall brunette walk in. “Emily, sweetheart, how are you?” P'Beer asked, turning her attention to the six-year-old who was holding to Freen's hand.

“You’re sending us back?” Emily asked, ignoring her social worker’s question as she looked to Freen with pure fear etched on her face.

“No,” Freen said, instantly stooping to the child’s level. “Bubs, I wouldn’t do that. Nita made a mistake and we’re here to pick her up, remember?”

Emily nodded, her eyes still wide with panic. She looked both ready to cry and runoff, causing Freen to squeeze her small hand a bit tighter.

“We’ll discuss their living situation a bit more once I wrap things up here,” P'Beer said, the comment going over Emily's head but making both Freen and Nita snap their heads up to look at her.

“Phi.,” Freen attempted to say, making the older woman raise her hand in a silencing motion.

If Freen weren’t so afraid of losing the girls, she would’ve torn the woman a new one for being disrespectful to her.

P'Beer wrapped things up with the security guard and thanked him for his time before going over to Nita and grabbing the girl’s forearm.

“Let’s go,” the woman said, her once pleasant glance gone as she tried to get the teen out of the mall.

“Don’t touch me,” Nita seethed, yanking her arm away and hurrying towards Emily.

She took the child under her arm and started walking ahead with her, leaving Freen and P'Beer behind her.

“I’ll meet you at your house. We’ve got a lot to go over,” P'Beer said, not saying anything more as the group walked to the parking lot. “Emily, Pranita, you girls are riding with me.”

“No, but, Freen said-!” Emily said, absolute panic coming through in her words now.

“We’ll meet her at her place. C’mon,” P'Beer said, leaving no room for argument.

Freen didn’t bother fighting the social worker on that, opting to just approach Emily and drop a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll see you at home in ten minutes, okay ka?”

Emily nodded and followed her sister to the sedan while Freen walked another row of cars down to her station wagon.

Once situated in the driver’s seat, Freen dropped her forehead against the steering wheel. And here she was thinking she’d have a peaceful evening with the girls.

-----

“What did she try to steal?” Freen asked once she and P'Beer were sat at the kitchen table.

Nita and Emily had been sent to their room as soon as they got home so the two could speak in private.

“Some shoes. She had nothing to say about the incident, but I managed to talk the security out of calling the police by claiming that she stole them because her own were run down and it’s hard to afford new things in the foster system.”

“And that worked?”

“For now. She’s not allowed back at the mall unless accompanied by an adult-.”

“Like they actually keep track of that,” Freen said, making P'Beer shake her head.

“I don’t think you’re aware of the severity of this situation, Freen.”

“I’m perfectly-.”

“Your foster child shoplifted while you were at work. Your other foster child, who is six, mind you, was home alone for an unknown amount of time. I have many parents to keep track of, but you are one of the select few that doesn’t seem to have a legitimate caretaker in place of yourself while you’re at work.”

“I trust Nita to care for her sister on Thursdays when I have to stay at the studio until 5. Every other moment aside from that I’m with those girls. I do my very best to care for them. You know that,” Freen said, clearly not in the mood to be put on the spot for being a poor foster parent.

“Today’s made me question whether or not that’s true.”

“Go ahead, then. Ask them what our weekly schedule looks like.”

“Getting short with me isn’t going to help your case, Freen,” P'Beer warned, looking at the space around her, no doubt trying to find something else to hold against Freen.

Freen knew she kept the house as clean and safe as possible, which gave her some relief in that respect.

“How do we move forward then?” Freen asked.

“I have to speak with the girls separately and have a full re-evaluation of your license performed.”

“Sure, fine, whatever you need to do. But the girls stay here.”

“You aren’t in the place to be making demands, Freen.”

“Emily has made amazing progress here. If you tear her away from me she’ll just revert back to her old self,” Freen said, offering her own warning to the woman.

“Maybe it would be best if I had the girls re-homed entirely-.”

“No!” Freen quickly interrupted.

“ Pranita has been suspended twice from school, and has had a whopping 43 detentions during her time with you. All things considered, it may be better for her to be out of your care.”

“She’s not an easy kid, phi. You told me those exact words when you dropped them off at my doorstep. I’m trying my hardest here. Please, don’t take them away.”

“I need to speak with the girls in private, would you mind pointing me in the direction of their room?” P'Beer said, ending her conversation with Freen at that and standing up from the kitchen table.

Once alone, Freen wiped her hands on her jeans and started pacing the kitchen. The thought of having the girls taken from her was suffocating.

She could only hope that P'Beer made the right decision to leave them with her.

-----

It killed Freen to hear Emily crying in the upstairs bedroom.

The little one was unapologetically upset about the conversation she was having with her social worker and sister and, if it wouldn’t cause more trouble, Freen would’ve been up there long ago.

Eventually, the sound of the door opening signaled the end of the thirty-minute long discussion and it also caused Freen to hold her breath in apprehension.

Emily came crying down the stairs, her beloved toy bunny held in a vice grip.

Freen didn’t say anything, knowing it would do no good at this point. Instead, she pulled Emily into her arms and held the girl’s head close to her chest, taking their brief alone time as an opportunity to sway them back and forth and hum a soothing tune.

Emily's broken cries almost instantly calmed into quiet whimpers, and eventually simmered away into sniffling.

“I’ve got you,” Freen promised as she pressed a kiss into the sweet-smelling hair, taking a minute to keep her nose there and just inhale.

Freen wasn’t entirely aware of it, but having Emily around seemed to make breathing easier.

P'Beer came down five minutes later and set two things down on the table.

“That’s the form you need to submit to the center with an available date and time for someone to come and do a full house check,” P'Beer explained, pointing to the full document. “And that’s a reimbursement form. Buy Emily some new shoes and attach the receipt. We’ll reimburse you the
cost within a week.”

“What?” Freen asked, wiping under her eyes. She wasn’t sure when she started crying.

“Nita was trying to steal new shoes for Emily. Apparently, there’s a hole in her sneakers. I explained that we would pay you back for that stuff, but she was adamant that you would return the shoes the second you got your money from us.”

“I would never,” Freen said, shaking her head in disagreement.

“I know that. But Nita doesn’t. Emily clearly has no desire to leave so I’m going to give you another chance. Let Nita step out of line like this again and you will be leaving me no choice,” P'Beer said, making Freen nod adamantly. “She also needs to start attending group therapy. I’ll find her a group and email you all the information.”

“Okay, ka, I’ll talk to her about that. Thank you, P'Beer.”

P'Beer simply nodded and turned her attention to Emily who was still hiding in Freen's embrace.

“Alright, Emily, you remember to call me if you need anything, yes?”

Emily simply nodded, not bothering to look at her social worker in fear that the woman would change her mind and drag her out of the home.

“Get that form submitted by the end of next week,” P'Beer said to Freen.

“I’ll let myself out,” the woman decided, knowing very well that neither Freen nor Emily would let go of each other long enough for Freen to show her the door.

Once the front door shut Freen let out an even larger sigh of relief and turned her full attention to Emily.

“Why don’t you and Bunny watch a movie, ka?” Freen suggested, giving the toy bunny and small tug in hopes of bringing a smile to her foster daughter’s face.

“Can you watch Narnia with me?” Emily asked, wiping under her nose with her hand.

Freen cringed and instinctively reached for a napkin from the holder at the center of the counter. She used it to wipe Emily's face while she said, “I need to talk to P'Nita but you can start it without me, okay?”

Emily nodded and moved to the living room while Freen took the stairs to get to the girls’ bedroom.

“Headphones off,” Freen said when she walked into the bedroom to find Nita sitting on her bed and sketching, seemingly unbothered by what just went down.

Freen's words fell on deft ears, causing her to approach the teen and pull the buds out herself.

“Hey!” Nita sharply yelled, not fazing Freen one bit. For once her anger surpassed the fifteen year-olds.

“None of that,” Freen warned, giving the girl her hardest glare. “You really screwed up this time, Nita. You not only almost ruined this for yourself, but you almost ruined it for Emily too. How do you think she would feel if she got taken away from her home today?”

“Okay, first of all: this isn’t her home, and second of all: she’d live,” Nita said, using as much sass behind her words as possible.

“Well, guess what? To her, this is her home. This is where she feels safe and comfortable and loved and you almost took that all away for her. I get it, you were trying to do something for her, but have you ever considered, oh I don’t know, maybe talking to me?”

“You wouldn’t get it,” Nita said, shaking her head and reaching to put her earbuds back into place.

“Don’t you dare,” Freen warned, grabbing the entire device from the teen and unplugging it.

“Don’t touch my stuff!” Nita yelled, standing up and trying to make herself seem bigger than Freen. She wanted to seem tough, but Freen saw right through the façade.

“You’re grounded, Nita. You got that? That means no more phone, or TV, or anything remotely fun until you recognize that what you did today was not only wrong, but also very illegal.”

“You can’t take away my personal things,” Nita said, trying to play the rules against her foster mom.

“Yeah, well, maybe this’ll give you a taste of what juvie’s like because at this rate, that’s where you’re headed. Now do your homework,” Freen said in finality, moving to leave the room.

“You’re also going to start going to group therapy.”

Nita groaned, “I fucking hate you!”

“Get in line!” Freen called back, shutting the door behind herself and heading to her own room.

She turned the phone all the way off before tucking it into her nightstand.

All she needed was Nita to offer an apology for her actions and then the phone would be all her’s again.

Freen had a feeling it would be a while before she’d be taking it back out again.

To be continued...

A/N:

Beer Siriphan

Heidi Amanda, Becky's dead wife