Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(119)

But I never realized how emotionally tiring and complex it is to actually raise a family, especially one of this size with so many different, and often times conflicting, personalities.

There’s Callum, who is the youngest. But when I say he gets into trouble, I mean the moment you tell him not to do something, he’ll do it. And as bright and curious as he is, he’s struggling at school and getting in fights with kids. He may smile a lot and have big sparkling blue eyes but I can see the pain and frustration underneath.

There are the twins, Rosemary and Thyme (yeah, yeah I know), who are eleven years old. Despite their names, which makes many eyes roll, the twins are smart, hard-working and diligent. They don’t “match” either–Rosemary is a jock-in-training, Thyme is a goth-in-training. Contrary to what you might think, Thyme is the outgoing one and Rosemary can be competitive and sullen. But other than Pike, they’re the biggest help to me in this house.

April is fourteen, boy-crazy, pretty—and she knows it—but angry too. All of that combined makes for a lethal force. My biggest fear for her is that she’s going to get pregnant at some point, or maybe start doing drugs if she hasn’t already. Maybe something worse. I worry about her the most and she seems to hate me the most, so I guess that’s kind of how this relationship works.

Then there’s Pike. Now eighteen and out of high school, Pike is old enough to be their legal guardian, so we kind of share the duties. He was all set to go to university on a scholarship except our parent’s death threw his last bit of high school out of whack and he pretty much bombed all the classes he needed to ace. He won’t even try again. He now has his sights set on being a tattoo artist instead of the paleontologist he originally wanted to be. Talk about a 180. He’s quiet, doesn’t talk much, and spends a lot of his time smoking cigarettes and putting ink on himself.

My family was always kind of complex before my parents died, so you can imagine that everyone here, including me, is still deep in the thick of it, each trying to deal with the loss the best we can.

“Hey,” Pike says, coming over with some papers in his hand. “R and T are going on a field trip to the air force base and need a signature. Oh, and Callum’s teacher wants us to have a meeting with her.”

I sigh, stirring the oatmeal vigorously. “Why are we doing this now? Where were those papers last night?” I glance at the clock. I have to drop them all off at their schools before I head into work.

“Rosemary forgot,” Thyme speaks up, looking sheepish.

“Oh and you didn’t?” Rosemary says snidely.

I don’t even bother looking at Callum. I know he’s got a mischievous grin on his face. Don’t know why he loves being in trouble so much.

“You know you can sign these,” I tell Pike, snatching the papers from his hands and, oh jeez, I think he just added knuckle tattoos. “What are those?” I gesture to the fresh tattoos.

“Ink,” he says simply, handing me a pen. “And they’re hieroglyphics.”

“Of what?”

“What are hieroglyphics?”

“Oh come on, Callum, don’t be a dummy, you know what those are,” Rosemary says to Callum.

“Rosemary, don’t call him a dummy,” I tell her and then raise my brow at Pike. “Just promise me you won’t start tattooing your face. You have a nice one.”

He gives me a rare smile. “I do?”

“Don’t get a big head about it but yeah. You’re the only hope this family has to go off and marry a sugar mama. Or daddy. We won’t judge as long as you pass the coin down our way.”

“What’s a sugar–?”

“Callum, stop asking so many questions!” someone yells.

I quickly sign the forms and then stride over to the calendar on the fridge where I make a note of an after-class meeting with Callum’s teacher.

“Do you want to go or should I?” I ask Pike. “It’s in the evening.”

He shrugs. I know he doesn’t want to go and I also know that he will if I ask him. But he just started a job as a mechanic at a local garage and he’s often exhausted. And the kids are legally my problem, not his.

“I’ll go,” I tell him.

“You sure?”

I give him a tired smile. “We could both go together but we don’t have money for a babysitter.” And someone refuses to babysit, I finish in my head.

He nods. He doesn’t even have to look at April to know she’s who I’m talking about. If I was a better mother–scratch that, I am not their mother—but if I was better at setting down rules and discipline, then maybe I could convince April to watch her siblings.

But I’m not those things. With this family now, I have to pick my battles.

“Are you both still talking about me?” Callum asks innocently.

I give him a look that I hope would freeze him in his chair but like April, he’s immune. He shovels corn flakes–or No Name Flakes of Corn–into his mouth and smiles, the milk dripping out of the ends.

I roll my eyes.

“Your teacher is unhappy with you, Callum,” Pike says, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting down next to him. “Again.”

Callum shrugs, eats more cereal, smiles.

Kid is going to grow up to be a sociopath.

“Maggie,” April practically snarls as she dumps her plate in the sink. “We’re going to be late.”