They make faces, making us laugh. Kevin starts to run circles around the living room, and Sam plays like he’s trying to catch the little boy.
Then Kelsey joins in the fun, running to and away from Sam, giggling.
But then, they start running laps through the kitchen and the living room, laughing and tagging each other.
“Okay, guys, that’s enough.”
But, of course, they don’t hear me.
“Hey, Tash says that’s enough,” Sam says, but they’re laughing and in the crazy zone now, where they no longer speak English as a first language.
They only speak silly.
I get up to stop them, and then everything happens in slow motion.
Kevin, laughing, takes off again through the kitchen. Kelsey reaches out to tag him, and he jerks away, knocking himself right into the table set up for the pies.
He stops so abruptly that Kelsey crashes into him, and then, to my absolute horror, all six pies go crashing down to the floor.
The twins don’t fall. They just look around, confused.
I cover my mouth with my hands. Sam jumps up off the couch.
And if I’m going to keep myself from lashing out at the kids, I know that I need to leave this room, pronto.
I run for the bedroom and close the door, and then let myself cry.
Damn it!
I told them, over and over again, to watch out for the tables. I told them to stop running around.
I’m so sick to death of not being heard. Is this what Monica went through? If she did, she never told me. I know she was tired, and there were days she was just flat-out exhausted.
I tried to help her when I could, but it wasn’t much. All I did was pick the kids up from school now and then and take them overnight once in a blue moon.
I should have paid more attention. I should have helped more, but I didn’t know.
I don’t know if anyone can understand completely until they’ve had children.
And now these two are mine. I love them so much, but they also frustrate the hell out of me, and all I want to do is cry.
“Tash?”
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Are you okay?”
“Of course, I’m not okay.” I blow my nose on a tissue as he opens the door and steps inside. “We worked on those all day. It took twice as long as it would have if I’d done it myself because we did it as a family. And now they’re ruined, Thanksgiving is tomorrow. If I’m going to replace those pies, I have to go to the grocery store. Except this is tiny Cunningham Falls, and literally nothing is open this late. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Take a breath.” He steps toward me and rubs his hands up and down my arms. “Seriously, breathe.”
“They don’t listen to me. It’s as if I speak at a decibel they can’t hear or something.”
“We’re going to have a talk with them,” he says. Sam’s face is set in grim lines. “And you’re going to take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay.”
“I don’t see how.”
“Trust me.” He tips my chin up and frowns at what he sees. “God, I hate it when you cry, Natasha. It just about brings me to my knees.”
“Don’t be charming. I want to be mad for a few minutes longer.”
“No, you don’t.” He kisses my forehead. “Let’s go figure this out.”
I blow my nose once more, then walk behind him to the kitchen. The kids are quiet now, sitting at the kitchen island as if they’re about to be given a death sentence.
“I’m weally sowwy,” Kelsey says. “I was an accident.”
I can’t look at the pile of dough and fruit lying on my kitchen floor. “I know you didn’t ruin the pies on purpose, but I have told you both all day to watch what you’re doing. You just don’t listen to me, and I’m very frustrated.”
“Are you going to make us leave?” Kevin asks.
I stop short and frown at the little boy. “What? Why would I do that?”
“Charlie at school said that we’re just foster kids now, and if we’re bad, you can make us go away somewhere else.”
“Charlie’s an idiot,” Sam says with disgust.
“Sam.”
“Well, anyone who would say that is a damn idiot,” he insists.
“No, honey.” The fear in Kevin’s eyes calms me faster than anything else could. “You guys aren’t going anywhere. You’re not foster kids, you’re our kids, and you’re stuck with me forever. But I really need you to listen to me. To hear me when I speak to you, and to stop ignoring me.”
Sam starts to clean up the mess, but I hold my hand up to stop him.
“They need to help with that.”
He gives me a look that says, yeah, that’ll go well.
But I shrug. “They need to learn that when they make a mess, even if it’s a mistake, they have to help clean it up.”