Sky squinted her eyes at me, a scowl on her face, before taking her pillow and burrowing deeply into it. “You, always this obnoxious in the morning?”
I laughed, pulling the pillow off her face. “Pretty much. I’ve always been an early bird.”
Sky had been staying at my house for the last two weeks. The shelter wasn’t so full anymore, but I liked having her here with me. We’d bonded so tightly after just a few days together, that sending her back to the shelter felt like abandoning her. She came with me and hung out there while I worked. It became apparent I’d made the right choice when she shook uncontrollably every time there was a fight or a commotion. She’d seen the psych nurse twice who said she was suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and prescribed her something to take the edge off when she fell into one of her episodes.
I couldn’t leave her there alone that first night, and couldn’t imagine doing it now. Out of the thousands of kids I’d interacted with, I didn’t understand why Skylar meant so much to me. Maybe it was her attachment to Miller, maybe she’d started my biological clock ticking. I’d felt more motherly toward Sky than I did with any of my other clients. It could be just that with her vulnerability on full display, I became mama-bear overprotective of her.
It was obvious Skylar had been through a hell of a lot. We didn’t talk about her past or what she’d gone through to get to this point. I didn’t ask her about her family or where she’d grown up. Skylar talked about those things with her therapist at the shelter. When it was just the two of us, we tried to have fun and leave her worries behind us. Whatever we were doing, it was working. Skylar seemed to be experiencing a second childhood. She didn’t quite act her age, and I was perfectly okay with that. Her emotional self was certainly not yet seventeen and on the cusp of adulthood. We painted our nails and adorned them with tiny stickers of fruit and candy. I braided her hair and had given her a bear to sleep with which she clung to all morning while she drank her coffee.
At the shelter, she rarely interacted with the other kids. She was content to organize files and even help with the food service. During quiet time, she’d come into the office, sit on the floor and read, while the other girls her age did TikTok videos and YouTube make-up tutorials.
The absolute highlight of her days, and to be honest, the bright point of mine, was when Malcolm Miller came to visit and she catapulted into his arms.
“Rough is here!” she scream at the first rumble of bike. She’d fling her tiny self out of whatever pretzel position she was reading in and meet him at the front door.
He’d grab her and spin her, place a chaste kiss on the top of her head. She’d gush about her day and every single little thing she did. Malcolm would sit rapt and act as if he were hanging on her every word. It was endearing to watch this huge biker-slash-powerful attorney, evoke interest in everything from hairstyles to volcanos. Then later, he’d show just how well he listened, when he’d show up with chapter books about the subjects she was interested in.
It must have been a sight to see at the local bookstore, this massive and intimidating man perusing the YA section, filling his arms with stories about medieval knights, Pompeii, and faeries. Or clearing out the art supply store with all of the paint and bead sets, and slime making equipment he bought her.
Watching Malcolm with Sky was making me fall in love with him. I stopped caring about the club and the bikes and whatever secrets his past held. I was there in the moment of this tender giant pouring his love into a little girl and making her whole again. Skylar recovered under his watchful eye. She became herself in his presence and thinking about what a gift that was, brought tears to my eyes every single time.
She stopped waking up with nightmares in the middle of the night. There were no more cold sweats or muffled cries ruining her peaceful sleep. She stared to get up early and watch the news, do the dishes, and put toast in the toaster for me. We got into our little groove and I think I’d never felt happier. Weekend nights Malcolm ate with us, always brought dinner. Skylar put on weight, I think I did, too.
As the night came to a close, I’d walk Miller to the door and he’d kiss me goodnight. We hadn’t progressed much past that and I was fine with taking it slow. My heart was so cushioned by this man, he made me feel like pure gold.