Invisible String

8

I glanced over my shoulder. Kids were screaming in joy, someone had just cannonballed into the pool, and Jason was chasing a dripping Bennett with a melting Popsicle. I turned back to Caroline and smiled the most apologetic smile I could muster. “We absolutely did. You’re right. This just… might not be the quietest inspection.”

She laughed. “Honestly, seeing a real slice of life is more telling than any cleaned-up version.”

“Please come in,” I said, trying to step aside without tripping over a beach towel.

Caroline walked into organized chaos. Travis spotted us and jogged over, his swim trunks clinging to him and his T-shirt only halfway dry. “You’re early,” he said with a nervous grin.

“Or we’re late,” I muttered.

Kylie caught on quickly and started ushering kids out to the yard, whispering something about being on “calm patrol.” Jason grabbed a trash bag and started collecting water bottles. Even the older kids picked up on the vibe and suddenly became the most well-behaved children in America.

Caroline took a seat at the kitchen island and pulled out her folder. “Let’s go over a few basics, and then I’ll take a quick tour.”

I nodded, still very aware I was barely dressed and covered in SPF 50. Travis sat next to me, back straight, trying to act like we were totally composed and didn’t just have someone fire a water balloon over the hedges three minutes ago.

To her credit, Caroline was calm, patient, and actually… warm. She asked us about our reasons for adoption, what we’d learned about the process so far, and how our support system looked. We talked about family—how our people were here, right outside that sliding glass door, playing and eating and loving each other. I think it showed.

Later, when she walked through the house, we kept apologizing for wet footprints and beach towels left out, but she just smiled and said, “Honestly, this is the most joyful inspection I’ve ever done.”

By the end of it, my anxiety was worn down by her grace. She said we’d hear back in a few weeks once the paperwork and notes were processed.

As I walked her to the door, still half-sunburnt and emotionally drained, she turned to me and said, “Don’t worry about the bikini. I’ve walked into worse. The love in this house is very clear.”

I shut the door behind her and leaned back against it with a groan. Travis came up beside me, put his arm around my shoulder, and said, “Well, that went better than expected.”

“It always does when you’re surrounded by Popsicles and chaos,” I smiled.

I was still catching my breath when I heard the stampede of footsteps on the stairs. Before I could fully process it, Kylie and Austin burst into the room, eyes wide and grins even wider.

“Well,” Kylie huffed, plopping onto the bed dramatically, “that looked like she liked you.”

Austin followed with a laugh. “Did she care that you were half naked? Because I think you gave her the most memorable home study of her life.”

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “Oh my God, you guys—stop. I wanted to melt into the floor the moment I opened that door.”

“She said the love in the house was obvious,” Travis added with a shrug, clearly trying not to laugh. “So maybe the bikini worked in your favor.”

“Oh great,” I deadpanned. “Next time I’ll just do the whole thing in a towel.”

Austin held up his hands, still grinning. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’re both hot, famous, and clearly competent. Maybe this is the kind of chaos that works for you.”