Taking Chances Read online

  Taking Chances

  Children's librarian Valerie Cruz has worked hard to make a comfortable life for herself since aging out of the foster care system. She loves her job but avoids intimate connections—life has taught her that she can only count on herself. When she gets the opportunity to become a foster parent, Val decides to take the leap. If she can help kids, she'll do it, even if it means reentering the system.

  Foster care case worker Paige Wellington is passionate about her work, and she's been a foster parent herself. When she meets the beautiful Valerie Cruz, she is drawn to her in a way she can't explain, even though Valerie seems to want nothing to do with her. But when they clash over what is in the best interest of the children in Valerie's care, the children may be the ones who teach them that it's worth taking chances for love.

  Taking Chances

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

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  Taking Chances

  © 2018 By Erin McKenzie. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-210-2

  This Electronic Original Is Published By

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: December 2018

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Ruth Sternglantz

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design by Melody Pond

  By the Author

  Where Love Leads

  Taking Chances

  Acknowledgments

  Eleven years ago, Debbie and I became foster parents, and our lives were forever changed. We had the rare good fortune to adopt all three of the children placed with us. Our daughters and son are the greatest blessing of our lives.

  To Monica and Renée, your professional knowledge and personal experiences were invaluable to this story. Thank you so much for sharing them with me.

  Thank you to Tricia, my good friend and first reader, for your willingness to read and reread, and for your unwavering support and encouragement.

  To the Bold Strokes team, thank you for giving me the chance to share my stories. Ruth, thank you for helping me to breathe more life into my manuscript, and for encouraging me to venture, finally, into the world of Skype.

  Lastly, thanks to you, my reader, for choosing this book. You have given me the confidence to keep writing, and for that I am truly grateful.

  To the hundreds of thousands of foster children in the U.S. and around the world: May you find healing, happiness and love in a forever family of your very own, be it biological, adoptive, or chosen. Never forget that you are special and deserving of every good thing this world has to give.

  This book is also dedicated to the memory of Connie Smith, our own MAPP trainer and home finder, who led us into the world of foster parenting with humor and positivity. You were a bright and joyful part of this world, Connie, and you are deeply missed.

  Chapter One

  “Fabulous,” Valerie Cruz groaned, as she walked into the county office building and saw the packed waiting room at the DMV. This one was the closest to her Central New York home besides the Syracuse branch, which would be ten times busier. “So much for leaving work early.” She pulled a ticket—C297—and looked up at the display to see that they were now serving C253. Seeing no seats available, Val sighed and stepped back out into the building’s foyer.

  As she watched the people coming and going, Val made up little stories in her head about their lives, like she’d done since she was a little girl. Take those two young men in their fancy suits, strutting by with briefcases in hand. She decided they were attorneys, returning from a long docket of cases at the courthouse across the street. Maybe the little old lady in the shabby threadbare coat was coming from the Medicaid office because she needed help making ends meet since her husband died. Val turned to watch another group of people exit the elevator. A well-dressed woman was carrying a toddler and whispering softly to him, followed by two young women making a show of waving good-bye to the child. Val pegged the older woman for a foster parent who had just brought the child for a visit with his birth mom. The two younger women stayed in the lobby.

  “When Sammy called her Mama in there, I wanted to punch that bitch in the throat. I’m his mama, and no fucking stuck-up bitch is gonna raise my kid.”

  Val was startled by their loud conversation, which she couldn’t help overhearing.

  “What’re you gonna do?” the mother’s companion asked.

  “They say I haven’t been doing enough to get him back. I gotta keep Anthony away, but I didn’t know the fool was a damn sex offender. And I gotta get a job and my own apartment. I’ve been trying, but don’t they know how hard it is to get a job in this fucking town? I never even got my GED. How am I gonna do all that in ninety days?”

  “I don’t know, girl. Damn.”

  The mother pushed open the door to the sidewalk with a trembling hand, fiercely wiping her eyes. “Get me outta here. I need to smoke.”

  Val’s stomach hurt as she watched the women leave. Her guess about the circumstances had been spot-on, but regardless of why the young woman was in this boat, it was hard to witness her pain. Val couldn’t help but think about her own complicated history. She had been in seven foster homes from the age of nine until she’d aged out of the system at eighteen. Some had been okay, others hellish. Now that she’d been on her own for eleven years, Val rarely let herself dwell on the bad memories. Still, she had a soft spot for kids in need and wondered what would become of little Sammy. She silently said a prayer for the beautiful child.

  A peek into the DMV told Val she had a while yet to wait, so she wandered down the hall to the vending machine to grab a drink. On the way back, she perused the community bulletin boards to pass the time. In the center of one board, on neon yellow paper, was an advertisement for an upcoming foster parent training class. Val stepped closer and read it, surprised at the name listed as the point of contact.

  Connie Smart. She had to be the same one, but wouldn’t she be retired by now? Val hadn’t seen her in several years, but the idea of meeting up again made her smile. Connie had been the case worker on her last two foster placements and had sort of taken Val under her wing. Connie had seen through her bravado and false I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude to the hurting kid underneath, and she had been a major reason why Val had taken the chance on going to college. But foster parenting? True, she had entertained the thought a time or two, figuring she knew firsthand what foster kids needed, but the idea of actually being responsible for someone else had scared her off. Some days she wasn’t even sure she had her own shit together. But as she stared at the poster, she felt something tugging at her. Before she could analyze the feeling too closely, she snapped a picture of the poster with her phone and walked back to the DMV.

  * * *

  “Ready for tomorrow night?” Joe asked as he poured a cup of coffee in the break room.

  Paige Wellington looked up at her coworker and groaned. “I hope so. I’ve never led one of these trainings before, but Connie insists I’ll be fine. She says diving in is the best way to learn. I just hope I don’t drown.” She’d only transferre
d from child protective to the foster care unit six months ago, and she was still getting her bearings.

  Joe took a seat at the table where Paige sat, sipping her Matcha. “Please. You’re the most organized, professional person I know. I moved over from CPS two years ago, but Connie never asked me to run a class.” Joe pouted, and Paige laughed.

  “That’s because you’d wet yourself.” Paige had known Joe ever since she’d begun working in Children and Family Services, and he was notoriously afraid of public speaking.

  “True, but still,” Joe huffed. “At least you’ve already been through MAPP training yourself.”

  “Thank God,” Paige replied. “Can you believe that was nine years ago already?” Paige had signed up for the Model Approaches to Partnerships in Parenting foster parent training course, inspired by the heartbreaking experiences she’d had working for CPS. So many children had been placed in foster care on her recommendation, and she understood only too well the fear and uncertainty those kids had faced. “I’m grateful every day that Emma was placed with me. It makes me sick to think what could have happened to her.”

  “Weren’t her bio parents the ones running that meth lab in their double-wide?”

  “Yeah, and they were selling to a tri-county distribution ring. If someone hadn’t called CPS to report that a baby was in the home, Emma might still be with them.” Paige shuddered at the thought. Thankfully, they were still in jail, and since no suitable relatives turned up to take the baby, Emma had become Paige’s adopted daughter just after her second birthday. It had easily been the best day of Paige’s life, and she could barely remember life before Emma.

  “Well, she’s lucky to have you,” Joe said, pulling Paige out of the past.

  “I’m the lucky one. She’s a terrific kid.”

  Joe nodded. “So, how are you liking it on this side of the hall?”

  “It’s definitely been a learning curve, but I’m glad I took the opportunity to leave CPS. It was getting to me, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know. There’s only so much negativity a person can take. I felt like it was starting to change me, and not in a good way. I had to get out of there before Charlie divorced me. I was a bitch to live with back then, or so he told me.”

  Paige laughed. “I didn’t notice, but then again, I was probably a bitch, too.”

  Joe shook his head. “No way, honey. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” He stood and put a beefy hand on Paige’s shoulder. “Good luck with MAPP class.”

  “Thanks. Guess we’ll see how it goes tomorrow.”

  Chapter Two

  Paige watched the participants of the MAPP class trickle into the conference room. She straightened the handouts and smoothed her skirt for the tenth time, then heard Connie chuckle behind her.

  “Relax. I’ll take the lead tonight. You’ll be fine once we get started.”

  Paige managed a smile and nodded. Connie was a home finder for the foster care unit and had worked there for over twenty years. She was a redhead with bright blue eyes and an irreverent sense of humor, and her demeanor put nearly everyone at ease. She also had a heart of gold and was the most knowledgeable person in the whole department. Connie always wore a smile and somehow made the job look easy. Paige knew there was no one better to learn from and was happy to be paired with her.

  Looking around the room, Paige saw that eleven of the twelve registered participants had arrived. Five couples of varying ages and an older woman who had come alone sat at the rectangle of tables, waiting for class to begin. Paige wondered what had brought each of them here tonight. She could feel the nervous energy in the room as the people glanced around at each other, and she hoped she wasn’t giving off the same vibe.

  Connie moved to the front of the room and was about to welcome everyone when the door opened. Connie’s face broke into a wide grin. “Valerie! I thought I was seeing things when your name showed up on my class list.”

  Everyone watched as a young woman entered the room and let Connie wrap her up in a hug. The woman turned, and Paige inhaled sharply, her curiosity about the newcomer quickly shifting to attraction. The woman was stunning. Long, glossy dark hair was pulled back in a clip at the base of her neck. Her sleeveless sunflower-yellow top accentuated a lovely expanse of golden brown skin, which glowed under the fluorescent lights, making Paige’s own skin look pasty by comparison. Expressive dark eyes glanced quickly around the room as she took a seat. This Valerie, whom Connie clearly knew, looked familiar, and after a moment, Paige realized why. She looked like a young Jennifer Lopez—in other words, gorgeous. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who thought so—every guy in the room was now sitting up straighter, and a couple of the women, as they smoothed down their hair, were staring at the latecomer with something akin to awe. Paige smothered a grin.

  “Now that we’re all here,” Connie said, “I’d like to welcome you to MAPP class. We will spend the next eight weeks training you in the major aspects of foster parenting, with the hope that your homes will be added to our list of good foster placements for the many needy children that come into care. But first, introductions. I’m Connie Smart, and I am a home finder for the county. My colleague here is Paige Wellington, a case worker in the foster care unit. Between us, we have over thirty years of experience working with children and families in the area.”

  Paige raised her hand in a wave, then proceeded to pass out folders of materials. As she passed Valerie’s chair, she caught the scent of something warm and tropical, like coconut, and the voice that quietly thanked her was low and rich. Feeling silly that she’d even noticed, Paige quickly moved on.

  “Now let’s have you all introduce yourselves,” Connie continued. “Please tell us your name and why you decided to join this class.”

  Paige listened carefully to the participants. Two couples who looked to be in their fifties wanted to foster now that their own kids were grown, because their homes felt too big and empty without kids around to keep them young. The older woman had been a foster parent in the past but had stopped taking in children when her husband became ill. Now a widow, she wanted to get recertified. One of the twentysomething couples was unable to have children and was hoping to use foster care as a vehicle to adoption, while the other just wanted to help children in need. While most of the group had presented as friendly and optimistic, the last couple seemed decidedly less so. The man stared impassively at the tabletop, rubbing the graying stubble on his chin, while the much younger-looking woman, straight-faced, said they were always taking in kids anyway and might as well get paid for it. Paige winced at that, but then turned her attention expectantly to the last person at the table.

  “I’m Valerie Cruz,” the beautiful woman said, her eyes on Connie. “I was in foster care for nine years and lived in seven different homes. I want to help make sure that any child in my care has a much better experience than I did. I just feel like it’s time to step up.”

  Whoa. Paige felt a wave of compassion for her, as Ellen, the widow, began to clap. Connie smiled and winked at Valerie, who ducked her head in embarrassment as the others joined in the applause. Paige had a revelation as she watched Connie nod with pride. Did Valerie know Connie from when she’d been a foster kid herself?

  * * *

  Valerie shifted in her seat. She hated being in large groups. Thank God Connie was here to make it bearable. Scanning the room, Val focused on each person in turn, trying to get a read on them, a hard habit to break. As a child, she had learned early on to trust her instincts about people, and in some cases, those instincts are what had kept her safe. She knew from experience that Connie was as good as they came, but she wasn’t so sure about the other instructor. The woman looked kind of uppity, with her silk suit and perfectly coiffed blond hair, like she was supposed to be having dinner at the country club but took a wrong turn and ended up here. Yet she had seemed interested when the other people spoke, and Paige’s eyes had been kind when they’d focused on her.

  Connie brough
t her out of her musings by announcing that they were going to be working on an exercise in pairs. Since everyone else was coupled up, that left Val with the older woman, Ellen. She scooted her chair closer to her and was greeted with a warm smile.

  “Hi. Guess we’re supposed to be filling in this worksheet here,” Ellen said.

  Val glanced at the heading on the paper: Attachment Issues in Foster Children. She nearly scoffed aloud. She had far too much experience with this topic.

  “I bet you know a thing or two about this.” Ellen apparently had picked up on her reaction. “I know I do. When my Earl was alive, we fostered seventeen children, and some of them had no idea what it meant to trust another person. Took a lot of patience to get through to those kids.”

  Val nodded, remembering. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” She was one of those kids, and she’d fought and tested her foster parents at every turn, never trusting their motivations or sincerity.

  “Shed a lot of tears in the beginning, until I learned not to take it personally when the kids pushed me away,” Ellen said. “We stuck it out, but patience was the key.”

  Val felt a pang of guilt for her past behavior, but as she thought of a few of her foster placements, it evaporated. “Unfortunately, some of my foster parents never figured that out.”

  Ellen placed a gentle hand on Val’s arm. “It’s a tough business, on both sides, but you know what? You’re here tonight, and I think that speaks volumes about your strength.” Ellen chuckled. “Not that this old lady’s opinion matters.”