Safe

-53- Tuna

Kendra Lincoln

I'm stirring the food I have cooking on the stove, my thoughts on the recent design I've been working on and what to do with a problematic wall. It completely stops the eye but it's structural and the client doesn't want to incur the cost of putting in a header.

I hear the quiet rustle of Holt and Blue enter the kitchen and I turn around and greet Holt with a smile.

"Hey honey."

Right away I notice he looks stressed and anxious. His eyes on the floor, body tense. I've also noticed that ever since we brought Blue home, when Holt starts to feel uncomfortable he reaches down for Blue and bless that dog, he's always there.

"Are you hungry?" I ask trying to divert his thoughts from whatever has him anxious.

He nods his head. "It smells good."

I watch him as he lingers by the open doorway. "Will you help me set the table?"

His head bobs as he comes farther into the kitchen and together we start pulling out place settings for three. I hand him the plates and he piles the silverware on top of them as I grab the glasses and we head for the table. Blue stays at his side the entire time, the tags on his collar jingling with his steps.

"I hate tuna." Holt blurts.

A smile overtakes my face instantly, tears coming to my eyes so fast I have to close them to hold them in. Every time Holt works up the courage to tell me something I'm overwhelmed with it.

"I'm sorry." He says immediately. "It's gross and smells awful."

I start to laugh but because of my tears it comes out sounding more upset than happy. Holt notices.

"I didn't meant to upset you." His voice is quiet, unsure of himself. "I-I'll eat it."

"No, no Holt, thank you for telling me." I turn to him, he's close enough that I put my hands on his arms. The action doesn't make him jump as hard as it used to. "I want you to tell me if you don't like something. Okay?"

He nods his head but he still looks like something else is on his mind. He looks at me nervously before staring at the table below.

"Will you still pack me one though? Birdie likes them and her step mom doesn't keep it in the house."

I don't tell him that I already know. That I've known. And that I love that Birdie and him have this sweet sandwich switching agreement.

So I just smile, squeezing his arms slightly before I let go. "Of course."

"Thank you."

"Is Blue hungry?" I ask Blue more than Holt, holding out a piece of chicken I trimmed off.

It doesn't take the dog more than a second to gobble it from my fingers. He flops his butt down, his head cocked to the side as he looks for more. He's such a unique looking dog, face split down the middle.

I loved my old dog and I've missed having a dog. But this dog, he's truly special.

So I toss him another piece of chicken, meeting Holt's small smile with my own.

"Thank you." Holt says suddenly.

I normally don't prompt Holt to elaborate but my thoughts are still focused on how Blue has fit right into the family like he's always been here and I say "for what?".

It's only after the words have left my mouth that I realize what I've said. I think about dismissing it, telling him he doesn't have to answer because I don't want to force anything out of him. I can be patient and wait for him to tell me things on his own time, even if it is hard. But the words catch in my throat, my heart rate increasing slightly because I do want to know.

He drops his eyes to Blue and I watch him reach down slightly. A cue that Blue seems to have learned instantly because even though I've tempted him with chicken he returns to Holt, wrapping himself around his legs, nose stretched up in the air.

"For giving us a home." Holt says quietly.

As to be expected, tears fill my eyes. "You gave me far more."

————————

My stomach no longer fits comfortably in my pajamas so I've taken over some of Rhett's T-shirt's. I'm rifling through his drawer when he comes in from the bathroom.

"I like the wardrobe change." He muses. "There's something about seeing my woman in my shirts."

I roll my eyes but I'm smiling.

"How was your day?" He asks as I tug on a shirt and greet him on the bed.

He pulls me close, his face pressed against my belly as he speaks.

"Holt finally told me he doesn't like tuna. But he wants me to keep sending it so he can switch with Birdie."

Rhett looks up at me, smiling. "Think there's something going on there?"

I shrug, I've thought about it.

"Maybe I'll feel it out the next time we play ball." Rhett says. "Have a man to man talk."

My fingers run through Rhett's hair on their own accord. My mind thinking about all that's changed the past few months. The leaps we've taken with Holt. I don't notice them until I allow myself a moment of reflection. When I look back and remember the terrified boy, who shook anytime Rhett was present. Who was too terrified to speak out, to share information about himself. The boy who didn't have a home and trusted no one.

He's changed so much.

"I think he's finally starting to settle a little." I say. "I think we're starting to feel like his home, his family." Rhett kisses my stomach but still doesn't let me go. "Do you think he'll ever call me his mom?"

I ask the question, not expecting an answer even though I'd love for someone to hand me a timeline.

"I think regardless of what he calls you, he knows that you are." Rhett says.

It makes me smile. "You ever wonder what he talks to Dr. Aldrich about?"

They must talk. Sometimes Holt is worn out from therapy, quiet and detached or hyper alert and sometimes he's forth coming. Talking more freely, it still isn't a lot but these moments are happening more and more. So they must be talking.

Rhett lets out a content sigh, "all the damn time."

                           ————————

I get to go tile my moms backsplash in her kitchen and her bath tub today. Wooo. Tomorrow's chapter is started but not finished so hopefully I can find some time to get it done in the midst of everything.