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Link to Chapter 5

Sorry for anyone who's been wanting to follow this story. It's almost completely written, but life has just been rough this year. Here's the next chapter!

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It was warming up outside just enough, but the rain continued, unrelenting, as Jonathan made his way back in from the barn. He jogged the short distance to the house, detouring around several larger puddles of muddy rainwater and holding his jacket up over his head.

The chores had taken him longer than he’d have wanted, but the barn had stayed dry; the spot in the roof that he’d repaired had held, and the animals seemed thankful for it—all cozy and dry in their enclosures.

As he slowed and climbed the steps to the front porch, he lowered his jacket and glanced in the window, catching a glimpse of Martha and Clark through a small crack in the curtains. He paused for another moment, his heart filling with love as he took in the sight.

Martha sat cross-legged on the floor next to the coffee table, Clark next to her. One of the coloring books Jonathan had bought in town the night before was open on the table, and Martha held a dark green crayon in one hand, her eyes bright and eager as she looked from the coloring book to Clark. Her mouth moved, and she seemed to be asking a question. Clark nodded slightly, and his little tongue darted out the side of his mouth as he dug intently through the box of crayons. A second later, he pulled out a red crayon and held it up, almost triumphantly, his expression lighting up. Martha grinned and nodded, and Jonathan could almost hear her words as she seemed to praise Clark for his effort.

He didn’t want to interrupt the moment; there was something special about it, something so right, seeing Martha there with the boy. But he had a lot to do before 9 a.m., and he didn’t want to be unprepared or late for the meeting with Ms. Jones. So, after one more glance through the curtains, he shook some of the rain off his coat and headed inside.

The old screen door creaked, as did the hinges to the front door, announcing his arrival. Both Martha and Clark looked up at him as he entered, though Clark didn’t quite meet his gaze and seemed to shrink down a little bit as he turned back to the coloring book. Jonathan smiled at Martha and gave her a gentle nod.

“Ah, I see you found the crayons!” he said, kicking off his boots. He hung his coat up on the rack near the front door and then padded over into the living room to get a closer look.

“We did! And Clark here is quite the artist, aren’t you, sweetie?”

It took everything Jonathan had to not react as Clark recoiled when Jonathan squatted down next to the coffee table. But his heart sank all the same.

“Oh, a pterodactyl! A red pterodactyl, even. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those,” Jonathan declared, still grinning as he watched Clark’s eyebrows scrunch together. Clark pursed his lips and looked up at Jonathan, their eyes meeting for just a second before Clark looked away again.

“Th-there’s no… You can’t have…” The boy shook his head and closed his eyes. “S-sorry. I…”

“Oh, you mean I can’t have seen a pterodactyl?” Jonathan slowly straightened back up, hoping his little joke hadn’t just upset the child. His eyes met Martha’s briefly, her concern hidden behind a kind smile, before focusing back on Clark.

The child’s face looked confused again, and he shook his head. “I-I d-don’t…think so.” He hesitated, looking back down at the coloring book. “M-Martha said…”

Jonathan swallowed hard as he watched Clark struggle. It had been a mistake to try to joke; he should have realized that already. Clark just didn’t understand and wasn’t ready for that yet, and now, the child seemed to be scared to say anything that contradicted what an adult had told him.

Thinking quickly, Jonathan leaned over and adjusted his glasses, pretending to study the coloring book again. He cleared his throat.

“Oh, you know what, Clark, you’re absolutely right. Pterodactyls are dinosaurs! They’ve been extinct for millions of years, right, Martha?”

Clark looked at Martha, waiting for her response, his fingers tightening around the red crayon he still held in his hand. Jonathan hoped Clark couldn’t see the tears at the edges of Martha’s eyes as she smiled softly and nodded.

“That’s right. And Jonathan’s not quite that old, is he?”

Something happened then—something unexpected and wonderful, even as fleeting as it was. The corners of Clark’s mouth turned up just a little, a tiny huff of air escaping him in what could only be a laugh. And then he blinked and looked back down at the coloring book, his mouth tightening back into a frown as he moved his hand to where he’d been working to color in the pterodactyl’s beak.

Jonathan’s heart felt all at once full of love and hope, and when his eyes met Martha’s, he knew she was feeling the same. He smiled broadly then, and with a quiet laugh, he said, “Well, this old man has gotta get cleaned up. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Clark didn’t respond, but Jonathan saw Martha glance at the clock on the wall before she nodded. Then, he turned to head upstairs and get showered and changed before their meeting with Ms. Jones.



“The paperwork all looks great. Thanks for having everything ready, Mr. Kent.”

“Please, call me Jonathan.”

Ms. Jones nodded and pulled out several of the sheets of paper from the folder. “So, I’m just going to give the house a quick inspection, looking for all of these items on the list here. And then I’ll chat with Clark a bit before we discuss next steps. How does that sound?”

Jonathan looked to Martha, who nodded in agreement. “Do you want me to show you around, Ms. Jones?” Martha asked, and she stood from her spot at the table before glancing back out to the living room, where Clark still sat, coloring.

“Sure. And normally, I’d have to inspect the barn and the rest of the property as well, but with this rain…I hope y’all don’t mind me leaving that until next time,” Ms. Jones said.

Jonathan chuckled and stood along with the two women. “I think that’s a good plan. I’ll hang out with Clark here, if that’s okay?”

Ms. Jones smiled as she turned to look to the living room. Then she lowered her voice slightly and addressed Martha. “He seems comfortable here. How was his night?”

As Martha started explaining how the evening and night had gone, keeping her voice appropriately low, the two women started off together toward the hallway. Jonathan stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled out to the living room, clearing his throat quietly as he approached so as not to startle Clark.

The child had moved on from the pterodactyl and now worked on coloring what Jonathan thought was a stegosaurus. And instead of red, now Clark had chosen a few different shades of green and brown for the dinosaur’s skin. His thick black hair tumbled down over his eyes, and he reached up and brushed it back with one hand before switching out his green crayon for a different shade.

“Hey, buddy. Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

Clark froze for a second, his hand hovering an inch or two above the coloring book. “Um…”

“Sorry, I didn’t make that question easy to answer, did I?” Jonathan tried for a quiet laugh, and he moved around the coffee table to the couch. “But, actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about, Clark. If you have a minute.”

The boy set his crayon down and then turned to face Jonathan, clasping his hands in his lap. He sat silently, barely breathing, it seemed, and waited for Jonathan to speak. His whole body seemed tense, as though he were…waiting for something bad to happen.

With a hesitant smile, knowing he needed his voice to stay lighthearted, Jonathan began. “Martha and I would like you to stay with us. We really love having you here. But what you want matters too. Ms. Jones—Emma—she’s here to check and see how you feel about that. Whether you want to stay here or go somewhere else, whether you feel comfortable here, whether you feel safe here.”

At his last words, Clark flinched, his eyes closing tightly. “S-s…safe?”

“Of course, buddy,” Jonathan said without hesitation. “You should always feel safe here. If Martha or I do something to make you feel unsafe, you can tell us that, and we’ll change.”

Clark seemed to think about that, blinking several times as he squirmed a little in his position on the floor. However, he didn’t say anything else.

The voices of the two women, along with quiet laughter, echoed from down the hall, and Jonathan heard their footsteps approaching. Clark glanced up at the sound, his eyes a bit wide and his mouth set in a tight frown. Jonathan shifted in his seat on the couch until he could see Martha, and she gave him a small smile and nod.

“Clark, sweetie, Emma here is going to spend some time with you now and ask you a few questions,” Martha said, walking around the couch to crouch down next to Clark. “Is that okay, sweetie?”

There was a moment where Jonathan thought Clark was actually going to say no. The boy looked directly at him, his deep brown eyes filled with fear, before he glanced at Ms. Jones. The petite redhead offered him a kind smile and stepped a little closer, opening her mouth to speak. However, Clark suddenly scooted closer to Martha and mumbled something too quiet for any of them to hear.

Martha frowned and cleared her throat. “What was that, sweetie?”

“J-Jonathan—Jonathan said I…could say…” Clark trailed off but moved even closer to Martha, scrunching his eyes shut tightly.

Martha looked up at Ms. Jones first and then at Jonathan, her eyes questioning. Jonathan frowned. “Buddy, you can say how you’re feeling,” Jonathan reminded him gently. “Whatever you’re feeling, Martha and I want to know.”

“So do I, Clark,” Ms. Jones added, keeping her distance. “And I’m betting…you’d like for Martha to stay with you while we talk. Is that right?”

Clark nodded almost immediately. “S-safe.”

Jonathan’s eyes widened, as did Martha’s, and he couldn’t help the small smile that started creeping in. Martha looked up at him, the uncertainty in her eyes replaced with love and fresh tears.

“I’ll stay here with you, sweetie. Would that be good?” Her voice was quiet and thick with emotion, but she hid it well. And when Clark nodded and crawled into her arms, curling up as though that was his favorite place to be, Jonathan had to wipe a tear off his own cheek.

Martha’s arms tightened around the small child, and she rocked him gently as he seemed to cling to her.

“I’ll just head back into the kitchen and let the three of you talk then,” Jonathan said quietly, tipping his head toward the wide doorway leading into the kitchen.

He poured himself a fresh cup of coffee while he waited, trying his best not to eavesdrop, not to worry. Somehow, he already knew in his heart that this was how things were meant to be—that for whatever reason, he and Martha were meant to be a part of this boy’s life, however unfortunate the circumstances that brought them together. But a whole lot of feelings he thought he’d buried had started to surface as well, and he knew he and Martha needed to talk more, at some point, because if he was feeling all of this—remnants of the sense of grief and loss he’d felt when he’d found out he and Martha couldn’t have children together—he could only imagine what she might be feeling now.

It wasn’t too long until Ms. Jones came back into the kitchen, a soft smile on her lips. Jonathan stood, glancing toward the living room.

“Clark is coloring again. He wanted to show Martha how much he got done on the stegosaurus,” Ms. Jones explained. She set her folder on the table and then reached into her messenger bag, which hung on the back of the chair in front of her.

“Can I get you some coffee?” Jonathan offered.

“Yes, thank you.”

Jonathan nodded and hurried to pour another cup of coffee. “Any cream or…?” Ms. Jones shook her head, and Jonathan brought the coffee mug to the table and handed it to her. Then they both sat down.

“I just have to say, Mr. Kent, Clark’s situation here is…difficult. I’ve been doing this job for over ten years now, and…” She trailed off as she shook her head and then opened up the folder. “So, as we discussed with Sheriff Harris last night, Clark has no living relatives who are able to take him in. What I didn’t find out until this morning, when I talked more with the sheriff and some others, is that there’s no record of Clark ever having been enrolled in school or seen by a doctor in town here or anything.”

She paused and flipped through a few pages in the folder, then looked up at Jonathan.

“I know from talking very briefly with Martha and from what the sheriff told me about the Petersons’ house that…something is very off about the way he was brought up and treated,” she said, lowering her voice. “And I’m going to need to come back again so we can do some more evaluations, especially once he’s feeling more comfortable talking.”

Jonathan nodded. “We’re…not sure how to—”

“You two are doing an incredible job so far, Mr. Kent,” Ms. Jones cut in, looking up from her paperwork and giving Jonathan an encouraging smile. “I spoke with Doc McMillan too, and he told me about Clark’s injuries and behavior from last night. And from what I’ve seen today, Clark is already developing a relationship with both of you, and he seems to especially trust Martha. So, whatever you two are doing, for now, keep doing it.”

He blinked and lowered his eyes, feeling as though some of the weight of the situation had lifted. “Thank you, Ms. Jones.”

“There are some more things we’ll need to speak about in greater depth, of course. The intention to adopt is a yes, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Great. That process can take some time, as I’m sure you’d expect. But if everything goes smoothly, and because of the situation here, I’d say we’re looking at three to six months, about.”

Jonathan nodded again and watched silently as she filled out and signed a few of the papers in the folder, sipping her coffee occasionally. Finally, she looked back up and smiled again.

“Alright, I’m going to need both you and Martha to sign here”—she indicated to a signature line at the bottom of a page—“and then, we’ll schedule a follow-up appointment for…Wednesday?”

“We can do that,” Jonathan said. He reached over and slid the folder closer to him so he could sign his name on the line.

“I’d expect after that, we’ll be having visits every…two weeks, maybe, until the adoption can be finalized,” Ms. Jones said, tipping her head in acknowledgement as Jonathan pushed the folder back toward her. “Oh, and…”

She stood, and Jonathan copied her, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He glanced out toward the living room, but couldn’t really see either Clark or Martha.

“Maybe the two of you can get more information from him, though obviously don’t push,” she said, her voice quiet again. “But, from what I’m guessing, and from what Martha said, he hasn’t been to school or had any formal schooling at all. Combine that with just having lost his parents”—she seemed to snag a little bit on that word, as though recognizing the Petersons had been anything but caring, loving parents—“and I think it’s best to not worry much about getting him enrolled in school right away. Better to wait on that, let him settle, see…where he is with everything…”

“Of course,” Jonathan agreed.

Ms. Jones nodded again and gathered up the folder. “I’ll just get Martha to sign these papers here, and then I’ll be on my way.” She started to turn toward the living room but then paused. Her expression was an odd combination of hopeful but pained. “Thank you for the kindness you’ve already shown him. I can tell…he’s going to do well under your care, and that…reminds me of why I chose this profession in the first place.”

Jonathan blinked back tears again as he nodded weakly. “We’re just…just really, really…grateful…” He shook his head, unable to fully express what he wanted to—the amount of love he already felt for Clark, which was stronger than and different from anything he’d ever felt before; how much his heart filled with hope and joy seeing Martha and Clark together; how something about it all just felt so…right.

But Ms. Jones seemed to understand. She gave him another knowing smile and then turned and headed out into the living room to get Martha’s signature.


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