Page 35 of Blind Trust
“No!”
“Daddy, no!”
“We already pickedCars.”
“No,Planes!”
Brooks opened his eyes to find his little cherubs squabbling about their movie choices over slices of pizza. He smiled at Lydia, who tried for exasperation, but she was smiling too. Their two oldest, sitting on his left, were rolling their eyes at their siblings.
“Tori, have you been working on your college applications?”
“Yes, sir.” Tori bit her lip. “I’ve already applied to a few of thelocal community colleges, but I talked with my counselor and she thinks I have the grades to get into William and Mary.” Tori’s eyes dashed between him and Lydia. “I know it’s not cheap, but my counselor said I might be eligible for scholarships, and there are even some work-study programs I can apply for too.”
Brooks finished chewing and wiped his mouth. “I belonged to the Tribe.”
Tori’s dark-brown eyes twinkled. “I want to go there because it was your school.”
His heart heaved in his chest. Tori, eighteen, had grown into a well-rounded young woman. Straight A’s, a member of the National Honor Society, captain of her volleyball team, and now she wanted to go to his alma mater.
The odds hadn’t been in her favor when he and Lydia got a call from the social worker about a two-year-old girl whose mother put drugs in her bottle to put her to sleep. The second he and Lydia took Tori into their arms, they knew she belonged with them. They took turns at the hospital rocking her as her little body went through the violent withdrawal process, crying and praying over her until they were able to bring her home. And as soon as they could, they began the paperwork to adopt her.
“Look,” ten-year-old Thomas shouted. “Daddy’s crying.”
Brooks blinked, feeling a tear slip down his cheek. He wiped his face and realized he was in fact crying.
“Are you sad, Daddy?”
He met six-year-old Angelina’s dark-brown eyes, the same as those of her twin brother, Anthony, sitting next to her. Both had an awareness in their face that spoke of the many times they’d likely seen their biological mother crying after their stepfather came home drunk.
“No, honey.” He reached out to her, sliding a hand along her cheek, remembering a time when she would cower anytime he came close to her. “These are happy tears. I’m happy.”
“Oh.” She ate a bite of her pizza. “Like Michael’s ’mojis.”
Brooks looked at their sixteen-year-old son, who dipped his chin and pushed up his glasses. “I let her use my phone. Showed her the emojis. She likes the smiley face with the tears. I told her it was like when I tickle her and she laughs so hard she almost cries. Happy tears.”
Anthony held up his hand. “I like the poop ’moji.”
Bursts of laughter broke out around the table, which led Anthony to keep sayingpoopuntil they all looked like the happy-tears emoji.
“So,” Tori said above the noise, “what do you think about William and Mary? Can I please try to get in? See if I get any scholarships? And if it’s still too expensive, then I’ll just go to one of the community colleges as planned.”
“No.” Brooks looked at his wife sitting at the other end of the table. She gave him a subtle nod, and he turned to Tori. “If you get accepted into William and Mary, then we’ll make it happen. No matter what.”
“Really?” Tori squealed before shooting out of her seat and racing around the table to his chair. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged tightly. “Thank you, thank you, Daddy. I promise I’ll get as many scholarships as I can and work two jobs if I have to.”
Then Tori ran to her mother and repeated the same thing.
“We still get to watchPlanes, right?” Anthony said.
“No,Cars,” Angelina cried out.
“It’s Friday night, and I think we have a reason to celebrate.” Brooks knew Lydia was going to tan his hide after this, but he didn’t care. “Let’s watch both movies!”
As expected, Lydia’s eyes went round and Brooks held up his glass of soda, leading the kids to do the same.
“To Tori and her acceptance to the Tribe.”
An hour later, dinner was cleaned up and the kids were draped all over the family room floor watching Dusty Crophopper earnhis wings. More popcorn was on the floor than in the bowls, and he’d been kicked in the shin twice by a squirming Anthony, but Brooks couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a Friday evening.
