The drip of the coffee pulled me into a trance, and for a moment, I was transported back to two months ago. Watching the liquid sputter out of the machine, I debated for the tiniest second if things were actually any better. Was my life any different from the void of blankness I’d been in?
Yet, while I found myself standing at the window once again sipping my coffee as I looked out across the dog park with longing, I realized it had.
For one, my coffee now had flavor. It might not seem like a huge deal, but it had been a momentous occasion for me. I no longer felt the emptiness reflected up to me from my coffee cup, and I’d added back some dimension to my coffee game.
Second, the park was no longer a barren wasteland my soul relished in. Spring had come to Chicago, and while it wasn’t exactly warm yet, it was no longer the bitter cold of winter where the wind whipped through you, sending a frozen chill through your bones. Greens and pinks had started to appear throughout the city, life attempting to emerge from the frozen abyss the city had become.
But most importantly, the biggest difference from that time to now, were the sounds.
At one time, the clicking of the clock passing time was the loudest thing in my condo, but now, a flurry of noises greeted me, and I smiled at their joyous sounds. The shower ran in the background, music played on a wireless speaker, and the timer went off as the muffins finished baking. My condo had come alive in the wake of inviting a teenager to live there, and like my coffee, it now had more flavor and dimension to it.
Jude’s backpack laid across the table, his school books stacked precariously next to it. His camera sat on the coffee table where he’d left it after showing me some of his favorite shots yesterday. Shoes that weren’t mine gathered near the door, along with coats, hats, and scarves. A water glass sat on the island, a half-eaten sandwich next to it, almost like he’d gotten full or distracted midway.
My condo was no longer the pristine, cold environment it had once been. In fact, it was nowhere near as immaculate as it was when I’d moved in. If Jacqueline Hanover were to step foot in here today, she would turn her nose up so quick, you’d think someone farted. The scorn alone on her face was enough to make me not care, but it was the liveliness of the condo that now made it a home. I loved everything about it, and it was a visual reminder of how different my life was, good and bad.
Placing the muffin pan on the wire rack, I stood back and grinned. I’d finally done it! After too many failed attempts to count, I’d managed to make muffins. Jude walked into the kitchen a few minutes later and found me waiting with a banana-nut muffin on a plate, grinning from ear to ear. He cocked his head at me, his hair still damp from the shower as he regarded the situation. It was probably a tinge creepy with the manic smile I could feel on my lips, but as soon as he was close enough, I shoved the baked good at him.
“Look!”
“Whoa. Okay, not burnt. Good first step. I’m guessing you want me to try it?”
Nodding, I held my breath as I waited for him to report if I’d succeeded. Becoming a foster mom had presented me with several challenges I hadn’t anticipated. Having to feed a teenage boy, one of them. Jude smiled in encouragement as he lifted the muffin into the air. He toasted ‘cheers’ to me, nodding at it before sinking his teeth into the golden brown creation. I held my breath as I watched, waiting for his declaration.
The oddness of this scene would’ve surprised me a year ago, hell even months ago, if I was honest. But as I watched my foster son indulge me with the taste testing, it no longer did. This was us now, the Jude and Loren show, and I found myself unable to look away. He’d filled a part of my life I never wanted to lose. I watched as he chewed, my impatience growing as I awaited his verdict. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I caved, asking.
“Well? How is it? Tell me, Jude! I’m dying over here.”
He grinned, laughing at my discomfort, and I knew he’d intentionally dragged it out. The change in him since he first arrived was astounding. Jude joked and laughed now. He played around and did goofy things with me. Having safety and stability in his life had allowed him to relax and be a teenager. Jude didn’t have to worry about surviving through the night or where his next meal would come from anymore, and it felt nice I’d been able to give him that.
“It’s good, Lor. I think you finally nailed it.” He smiled wide and reached for another one. Doing a happy dance, I spun in the kitchen, probably looking like a hyperactive rabbit as I tried to mimic the twerking meme.
“Oh yeah, I’m the bomb!”
Jude laughed, shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure if you have to announce you’re ‘the bomb,’ it disqualifies, you know, being the bomb.”
“I don’t care. I just baked my first successful batch of muffins. Those stuffy moms at the bake sale won’t know what hit them.”
Jude snorted, shaking his head as he ate another muffin. “If I didn’t like the school so much, I’d tell you to transfer me just so you didn’t have to deal with those um, moms.”
“You can call them bitches,” I laughed. “Lord knows, I do.”
“Okay, well yeah, those bitches.”
He gave me a toothy grin, and I laughed at our inside joke. “Yeah, I’d conveniently forgotten that prep school moms were the worst. They sure didn’t put that in the handbook.”
“I can see it now. ‘Not only do we have excellence in the arts and music, but also our helicopter moms are top-notch. Sign up today to relive your glory days through your child.’ Yeah, I don’t think it’d sell.”
Spluttering, I almost spit out my hot coffee onto the floor, the comment taking me by surprise. “Oh, wow. That was priceless. They really should come with a warning. I’m beginning to think my mother offers how-to classes. Speaking of which,” I cringed.
Jude groaned, his annoyance echoing my own. “Is that next weekend?”
Nodding, I took another sip of my coffee. “Unfortunately. I’m sorry, kiddo. But hey, maybe they’ll be on their best behavior with you there.”
“Yeah, because that helped so much last time.”
He rolled his eyes, finishing up his food. I watched as he grabbed the glass and sandwich he’d left and placed them in the sink. Jude wasn’t necessarily messy. He was just a teenager. He always cleaned up after himself eventually, so I never nagged at him to do it. Plus, I liked seeing his stuff around. It reminded me I wasn’t here alone anymore. It was a nice feeling to be reminded of.
“Yeah, well, we’d been ambushed.”