Happy certainly wasn't the correct word to use as Oliver stepped through the grassy field in his black dress shoes. Patrick's stern face walked behind him. He was dressed in a suit as was Oliver. The weather was lovely considering the circumstances. Spring was in the air. The sun shone brightly and the winds were cool and gentle against the skin.
Grasshoppers silently sprang out of the grass, dodging the two's steps as they walked.
Patrick saw something up ahead of them that made him crack a tiny smile even in his stony features. Oliver perceived it too and after looking back to receive an assuring nod from Patrick, he sprinted for her. Happy wasn't the correct word to use at all. Ecstatic was much more fitting. He held her in a tight hug as soon as he reached her and as she laughed he easily lifted her off her feet.
"Why hello to you too Oliver," she exclaimed as she matched his wide boyish grin with her own. "It went well judging by your face?"
Oliver couldn't stop his grin. "Yes! I'm so out of Foster Care Aunt Wilma."
She shook her head and smiled up into his eyes. He didn't have to call her his aunt but he'd picked up the nickname for her anyway and it always lightened her. By God, she loved that boy so much.
"The judge was a little relentless today, but we got through with smooth sailing Miss Wilma." Patrick finished as he neared them. He had his tie wrapped around his hand. Usually he bore the grim dress code, but today was like a big sigh of relief. A day for relaxation and celebration.
"That's wonderful, I knew everything would work out." she squeezed Oliver's hand. "How about you both take off those stuffy suit jackets and tell me everything inside."
"Alright!" Oliver replied as he gladly ripped off his starched suit jacket.
"With pleasure maam!" Patrick slipped out of his too.
The three walked towards the house, without the slightest care in the world. Wondering if whether or not Patrick would make a good father figure wasn't a concern, it would be about the same as wondering is fall would come again that year. Patrick would be a good father, people just didn't know it yet.
But what everyone did know, was that Oliver and Wilma would never be separated. Not even by death itself.
"You're happy aren't you?" It was said as a statement rather than a question
Finished...for now. :P
YOU ARE READING
Fifteen-year-old Oliver has run away from his social worker and the police. He's a foster kid and a delinquent. But on his way to unforeseen freedom he meets Miss Wilma, a kind old timer, who's observant eye might be able to bring out the gentle boy...