Foster Forest (10): Watching

"And I don't want to hear a single sound out of either of you!" Becky said. She deposited Jackson in opposite corner of the kitchen, letting go of his ear and giving it a quick but gentle rub where the flesh had reddened as a result of her hold. She let her hand fall on his back as though patting him. Briefly Becky was able to note that Jackie had lost perhaps five pounds. There was still quite a ways to go, but she felt relief at knowing that her rules were doing their job. She glanced over at Lizzie and pointed her finger at the little girl. "You and I are going to have a very serious talk in just a few minutes," she scolded.

Then, with a heavy sigh, Becky fell down into the chair at the kitchen table, putting her head into her palms and rubbing at her temples. Her head was pounding, and her blood pressure was high. Her hands were trembling slightly, and she lowered them, placing them palm down on the table and taking several deep breaths.

These two had such an ability to make her angry! For the first time in her life, Becky was beginning to understand why her father had snapped at her the way that he had, or why her mother had sent her to her room to wait for her father instead of dealing with discipline herself. There was no way that Becky was going to force the two children in their separate corners to wait for Peter, especially when she knew that Peter had that awful little paddle. There might be a time that behavior warranted the paddle, but she sincerely hoped that it wasn't today.

Peter would arrive in fifteen minutes, right around the time that the newest member of Foster Forest showed up to be settled in. Her anger level as well as her sympathy told her she should deal first with Jackson and Elizabeth, but she didn't want to be caught in the middle of that when Cody showed up, the way it had been when Peter arrived. It was bad enough that Lizzie resented Peter's seeing her draped across Becky's thigh, or worse, that he had scolded her for rubbing her bottom. She didn't need that kind of resentment flying between two more of her youngsters. Lizzie seemed to resent everybody, in some way or another. It was something that Becky just wouldn't understand.

***

Foster Forest (9): Understandings

Jackie Seeber sat on the couch, his legs crossed Indian-style under him. His elbows rested on his knees, which meant that he had to lean forward a little bit. He felt uncomfortable, the fleshy belly pressed between his chest and his legs. He didn't move, nor did he take his eyes off the floor. Nothing made sense any more, and the tears poured down Jackson's cheeks in rivulets while he waited for Ms. Becky to show up and yell at him.

This was all so confusing. The television was off, and if he tried to turn it on, all he would get was a blue screen with some writing on it. Since Jackson didn't read yet, he didn't know what he had to do to make the television work, and he was afraid to ask Ms. Becky. It seemed like lately she yelled every time she saw him. "Tuck your shirt in! No, you may not have dessert! Where are you going? Outside! Play!"

Jackson spent a lot of his time crying. He was bored. There was nothing for him to do, and the entire place was so utterly unfamiliar to him. Why couldn't he watch TV? What was wrong with eating dessert? So what if his shirt was untucked? What was it about Jackson Seeber that offended everybody so? He just didn't understand.

Foster Forest (8): Rump Roast Barbeque

June had rolled smoothly into July, though there seemed to be some resistance from at least one resident of Foster Forest. Lizzie wasn't looking forward to the coming school year, especially considering that nobody had told her what was going to become of her. She'd assumed that Jackson would be sent to the private school that had expelled her, and that she would probably head straight for the nearest public school. While she didn't hate the idea of going to a "normal" school with "normal" students, there was a great deal of apprehension for the little girl, who worried that the minute another group of students sniffed her out as a foster child, she was going to be in trouble again. At least in a public school there was a good chance there would be no recess, and without recess she could (mostly) avoid being bullied.

Lizzie had been avoiding everybody, and Peter had been avoiding Lizzie. Becky and Jackson had spent the last two weeks together a lot, and there was a building undercurrent of irritation coming from the ten year-old little girl, who felt as though she'd been pushed out. She couldn't understand the feelings that were raging within her, or the reasons why Ms. Becky spent so much time with Jackson now, and not with her. If it bothered her, she was trying not to show it.

In the meantime, Jackson was soaking up the attention, and he was more than a little bit smug about it. Although he didn't say anything to Lizzie, and in fact rarely spoke to her at all, he did puff out his chest a little bit whenever he was near her. It didn't bother him that she might have heard his first spanking, and it was obvious that regardless of whether or not he should be humiliated by the experience, he still viewed himself as being "better" than she was. He'd managed to fly beneath the radar so far, so that the adults hadn't noticed what he was doing, or the hurt expression that was visible so often in Lizzie's eyes. And if they did, they thought the source was something else entirely.

Peter tried to be present for Lizzie, but she had given him the cold shoulder since the night that they'd cooked dinner together. Although he was hurt himself, he tried not to show it, or the fact that he felt entirely useless. Jackson was glued to Becky and Lizzie seemed to prefer to be by herself. Needless to say, Peter had plenty of time to paint, and he'd almost finished a large painting of the barn and pasture. Pastoral scenes were his favorite, and he was quite satisfied with the results. He even thought he might gift the painting to Becky, given how much she enjoyed his work. It was enough for him that she had one of his prints on display in the children's home.

It was finally the day that Peter had planned his barbeque. The children had been sent upstairs to take baths and clean up so that they were presentable, and he'd gathered all the food in the kitchen. He wasn't going to start cooking until everybody was present, and in spite of all of the tension in the house, Peter was whistling happily as he arranged things in the kitchen. "So," he said, turning to Becky once had had everything ready. He popped the top on a can of Coke and took a long swig. "What are you planning on doing about school. I think Lizzie's worried about it."

Becky sighed from where she was sitting at the table, wrapping ears of corn in foil so that they could be placed on the grill. "I don't know," she said, her voice soft. "I was thinking about hiring a private tutor to teach them. At least that would cut down on the bullying. With Jackie's weight and Lizzie's bookishness, it just seems like it might work out better. Then I don't have to worry about the pain of either of them getting in trouble at school again."

"You don't sound confident."

"I'm not." Becky shrugged her shoulders and set down the last ear of corn. "It's one more person that I have to bring on. I don't mind hiring somebody -- and paying them to do the job, since it cuts out the need for separate tuition for each of the children -- but it just seems like it might be too much pressure on everybody. And the kids need to get out of the house a bit. Away from here."

Peter shrugged. "Well then that's what field trips are for," he was saying, just when a scream resounded from upstairs, followed by the distinct sound of flesh meeting flesh in what was surely a slap.

"What now?" Becky asked, rolling her eyes as she pushed up out of her chair.

Peter sighed and went to follow her upstairs.

Foster Forest (7): Here We Go Again (Jackson Arrives)

A sob caught in Lizzie's throat as she came back down the stairs. She'd changed her clothes, and although she was still wearing panties, the skirt she wore now wasn't as tight on her backside as the jeans she'd had on before. She still felt hot and sore and bruised, and there was a tingling sensation of intense resentment for Peter Grisson that she couldn't deny or cover up. What made the situation worse for the little ten year old was the fact that she wasn't really sure why she'd gotten the last spanking. He'd grabbed her, and the tall blonde-haired man was frightening as he towered over her. She didn't really know what he'd wanted from her, and she'd panicked, and reacted to her panic.

So many things hurt in those moments. Her bottom was bruised and aching, still throbbing from the spanking. Her heart hurt because she felt that Peter had rejected her and treated her cruelly. She hurt because Becky hadn't said a word to her except to point her upstairs to wash her face and change her clothes. All the anger had drained out of her, and she was left feeling lonely, hurt, and scared. Ms. Becky had said something about somebody coming. It didn't make any sense at all to Lizzie, but as she reached the bottom of the stairs she stood stock still when she heard voices out in the Great Room.

"I'm sorry for bringing you an emergency case, Ms. Thomas," an unfamiliar female voice was saying. "I don't usually deal with the emergencies, but this is a special situation. He was in foster care for eight months while his parents went through the system. He'd only been home for a month when the crash happened. I don't think he really understands what's going on, and he's scared," the soft, caring voice of the woman went on.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. For a moment she allowed herself to simply soak up that tone of voice, the tone that she thought of as love. Peter had been so hard, and Becky hadn't stood in his way. If anything, Lizzie felt as though her female guardian had passed her off as soon as she had found out that another person was going to be coming to the forest. She'd been so happy that her only observation of Lizzie's misery had been to send her to her room to change her clothes and to tell her to wash her face.

That had stung. She'd been sure that at least Ms. Becky would understand the unfairness of the whole thing. She wasn't even totally sure why Peter had spanked her either of the times he'd gotten on her that day. It hurt her feelings that he'd practically launched himself at her with almost no explanation at all. She'd been upset at first, then really scared. While she was mature enough to understand that it was probably her outburst that had gotten her into trouble at his house, she'd been so scared then. Just the memory of school made Elizabeth freeze and feel a surge of distrust. The teachers had condemned her instead of rescuing her, and it was not something she would easily forget. Peter himself elicited a similar distrust, especially after the day they'd spent together.

"We're happy to give him somewhere to stay," Becky was saying when Elizabeth opened her eyes and began to listen again. There were few words spoken after that, and she soon heard the front door open and then close. Once again their "family" was alone, except that there was one more member in it.

Although she'd only been at the Forest a little bit over a month, Lizzie had been under the impression that she would know when another child was being brought into the home. She'd never thought that she'd be given a choice in the matter, but it had also never occurred to her that it might happen so quickly. She'd expected to be prepared to face whatever was coming. This was not a pleasant surprise for the insecure ten year-old.

The little girl sniffled. She was too upset to care if the two adults and the new arrival saw that she was crying. She didn't care if her eyes were puffy and red as she finally finished coming all the way down the stairs. It didn't matter to her at all if they felt bad that they'd left her out of the decision. In fact, she would relish the expression on their faces as they turned to look at her and see just how upset she was. She would feel a great deal of satisfaction as Peter realized how much he'd hurt her, and when Becky understood that she'd really let her down.

Instead, they didn't even turn toward her. Between them there was a chubby little boy who was probably a few years younger than Lizzie. He had brown hair that stuck up and out everywhere in little clumps. Other than that, she couldn't see anything except that he was thickly built, and that it wasn't mostly muscle. Lizzie could see that the boy was crying from the way that his shoulders kept heaving, but it was a silent kind of crying. She could tell, immediately, that he was only looking for attention and sympathy. That had been her game.

Rolling her eyes behind the boy's back, Elizabeth quietly crept up behind the trio and slid her hand into Becky's palm.

The effect was immediate, and not what Lizzie expected. Becky jerked, pulling her hand away as though she'd been stung. It was clear that she hadn't expected Elizabeth to interrupt whatever was going on. Surprised, and hurt, Lizzie also jumped back, her brown eyes widening and moving to scan the faces around her. The little boy's head was still down, and he didn't look at her, though Peter gave her a stern expression. Her first instinct was to take off for the library, but she didn't want him to be angry with her for reading before the chores he'd told her to do were done. He'd made very clear what his expectations were, and she was sure that she wouldn't make the same mistake again, at least not with regards to chores.

"Didn't I tell you to go to your room, Elizabeth?" Becky asked, her voice colder than the little girl expected.

Lizzie felt her mouth go dry, even as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. She took a step back and shook her head from side to side. "N-no ma'am," she said, her voice breaking as the fear caught up with her. She'd already had two spankings that day and suddenly she was certain that a third could not be avoided.

"Peter and I had a talk while we were waiting for Jackson to get here," Becky said, regarding Elizabeth with a gaze that seemed to be studying her very, very carefully. "I don't want to hear another word about you giving him any kind of attitude, young lady. I'm going to be here tonight to get him settled in," she said, indicating the little boy, "but otherwise you know that on my nights off, Peter is fully in charge of you. If he tells you to do something, you are not to argue with him. You are to do what he says. Period. Do you understand me?"

The knot of fear in Lizzie's stomach nearly made her double over. She thought for a moment that she might be sick, and she spun on her heels to rush for the bathroom. Becky's voice called her back. "I'm still talking to you, young lady!" the woman called, and Lizzie stopped short, turning around slowly and nodding her head.

It wasn't obedience that she had a problem with. Elizabeth was having a difficult time settling in, and she was more distant than either of her guardians truly appreciated. But when all was said and done, the distance came from an incredible fear that had been planted within her by a former foster father. He'd been terrible. He had touched her in ways that made her face heat up with the feeling of shame even two years later. He had always told her that it was important to obey him no matter what. And if she didn't, there were consequences. The sick feeling returned, and the little girl finally turned and fled up the stairs and into her bedroom, where she slammed the door behind her and threw herself on the bed, sobbing.

Foster Forest (6): Stress and Strain

Three days had passed since Peter had first suggested to Becky that he was going to take Elizabeth to his house to help him unpack. When he'd gotten up to her room that day and opened the door, the little girl had been curled up on her side, her arm tucked around a book. She had been fast asleep. Because Peter hadn't had the heart to wake her and begin the war all over again, he had allowed her to sleep, had slipped from her room, and had gone on about his business.

As far as Peter was concerned, the three days in between had been hell. Becky told him that the behavior was normal for Elizabeth, but his insides were churning with the desire to change what was "normal" into something a lot better than what he was seeing. Toward him, Elizabeth was surly and unpleasant. She disrespected everything he said and was unmanageable to the point where Becky had allowed Peter three days off to work on getting himself established in his own home. In other words, she had separated them. Toward Becky, Elizabeth was simply disrespectful, and although she obeyed almost everything the young woman told her to do, Peter decided that he'd given Elizabeth a distinct advantage in what appeared to be an ongoing war between them.

His days off had been spent deciding how he was going to handle the "situation" that was Elizabeth. Normal children did chores and weren't allowed to disrespect their parents. As strict as Becky was, Peter decided that she was also too sympathetic to Elizabeth, and he knew that would have to change before there were more than one children in the house. If these were to be difficult kids he couldn't imagine the chaos that would result from such a serious lack of discipline. Elizabeth's attitude would change, and change for the better. Otherwise, what he knew to be Becky's mission at Foster Forest would fail.

On the fourth day Peter arrived at the house in time for breakfast, but not to make it. He still wasn't "on duty" until that evening, but he wanted to have some time to spend with Becky and Elizabeth, since he'd been so hard at work getting the furniture set up and creating his studio in one of the upstairs bedrooms of the house. He was hoping for a good morning, and when he walked into the house and smelled bacon and eggs cooking, a smile spread across his face. He'd let Becky know he'd be here, so he was certain there would be enough.

"Shit!" He heard Becky's voice coming from the kitchen, and broke into a jog as he tried to get there quickly. He wasn't sure how often the woman swore, but given that he saw it as an unattractive trait in a woman, he had made it up in his mind that this very attractive woman didn't swear very often at all. Something serious must be going on to make her curse.

Foster Forest (5): New Rule

The apprehension had been building for several days. Although he couldn't quite identify why he felt that way, Peter Grisson knew that he should treat the apprehension as a warning bell. He'd made a serious decision that would change his life, perhaps forever. He liked kids: that wasn't the problem. And he knew that he was capable of performing the duties that had been outlined to him by Becky Thomas. He even thought he'd make a good father, or a good father "figure" to the kids she was helping. Indeed, he felt that he'd fit in just fine at Foster Forest. He knew and appreciated how Becky Thomas used discipline on her only current charge, and he felt confident that he'd be able to do the same.

In fact, Peter had the little paddle that his mother had handed over to him when he'd finally reached adulthood. He had terrible memories of that paddle, being bent over his mother's lap. It was roughly eight inches long by six inches wide and relatively small. There were several holes drilled into the wood of the paddle, causing it to cut the air resistance when it was used properly. The paddle stung like crazy, and had been known to leave blisters if not used carefully and thoughtfully. Although Peter had never given a spanking in his life, he'd been on the receiving end of the dreadful implement enough times that he would certainly be able to use it appropriately.

Peter took his time on the drive. He was aware of the sense that he might turn back and head for home. He'd hired a house sitter, at least for as long as it took him to determine that he would be able to settle in at the Forest. It hurt a little bit to leave the tidy house behind, but he had forced himself to look forward. Now he was driving down the Interstate, trying to convince himself that the road was familiar. He had already committed it to memory before he'd made the trip the first time, though once he was off the main roads, the territory was still frighteningly foreign. Peter Grisson wasn't a country boy at heart.

The car tires crunched on the gravel as he drove up in front of the big building that was the children's home. He took a deep breath, his blue eyes staring straight ahead as he mentally prepared himself for this step of the journey. He liked Becky Thomas. She was beautiful, though that wasn't saying much: Peter Grisson thought most women were beautiful. However, the young woman had struck something in him that he hadn't expected to find. Although she wasn't the type of woman he normally "ran with," he thought he could come to enjoy her company.

"Okay," Peter said to himself. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was nothing more he could do to prepare himself, so now he pushed his way out of the car and went around to the back to grab the two suitcases he'd packed. The rest of his "things" (the things he would need for his art) had been shipped ahead and should already be in his room. He'd set those up later the way that he liked.

Setting the cases down near the front door of the home, Peter raised his hand to knock, then thought better of it. He'd let himself right in the last time, when he'd had less right to be there. Now he was, technically, an employee of the... organization. That was the only way that he could think about it. He squared his shoulders and turned the knob, poking his head around the door to make sure that he wasn't interrupting anything as he had when he'd been a visitor here.

Instead, Becky Thomas was behind the reception desk, and little Miss Moore was nowhere to be found. Breathing a sigh of relief, Peter slipped into the building, leaving his bags on the porch. He'd take them with him into the house he'd chosen to buy from Becky (at cost) later on. He'd want to have a few things in the apartment here, as well. There would be night's he planned to stay over to help take care of the kids, though right not it was only Elizabeth and Peter figured that she and Becky had a regular routine already. They must have a routine that didn't involve him. It would be awkward trying to get settled in, but he'd make it happen.

"Peter," Becky said softly with a genuine smile for him. Her red hair was pulled back into a Dutch braid, and Peter couldn't help but be disappointed that the auburn tresses weren't falling halfway down their back where he felt they belonged. For a moment he just stood, admiring her, and then when she gave him a questioning look he stepped forward, through the front door and up to the desk. He'd already done all the paperwork, most of it in person but some of it had been faxed over. It was all official, and he shouldn't have been nervous, but there was anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

"Where's Elizabeth?" he asked, looking around, surprised that the little girl hadn't come out to greet him.

"She's in the little library we have here, reading a book," Becky said, though there was something in her eyes that told Peter she was disturbed, or angry about something. She opened her mouth as though she was about to say something, but then clamped it shut again and shook her head, biting the words off before they could be spoken.

"Okay..." Peter said slowly. The silence didn't bother him, though he felt that there was some room for her to explain what was going on, and what she needed him to do. He'd planned on getting started right away, and in fact had the impression from Becky that's what she'd wanted, too. When the woman said nothing, but instead seemed to be staring off outside the windows, Peter first turned to see if there was something interesting out there, and then turned back to her. "Becky? What do you need me to do?"

The redhead glanced at the clock on the wall, and then back to Peter. "I have dinner in the oven. Right after dinner I have a meeting that I'm needed at, and I was hoping to take the night off." Since she didn't mention a date, Peter had to assume that's where she was really going, and something inside him cracked, just a little bit.

Peter gave a small nod. "So you need me to stay here. Overnight."

"Yes," Becky said, slowly stepping out from behind the counter. "There's the apartment here that I told you about. I have one and there's a second. Do you want me to... Show you?" she asked.

Peter could sense weariness in the young woman, but he said nothing. Instead he simply nodded his head and allowed himself to be led to the back of the building. Too late, he thought of his bags. He turned as though to go back for them, then shrugged and changed his mind. He could get them later, and they were in front of a door. Becky slid a key into the lock, pushed the door open, and then stood aside to allow him to get a good look at the room.

Stepping inside, Peter was shocked by the size of the main room. It was comfortable, like a full rental apartment. He could see a small kitchen through the living room, and three doors which he imagined to be a bathroom and... "Two bedrooms?" he asked, turning toward the woman who, for now, he thought of as his hostess. He'd need to get over that sooner rather than later.

"Yes," Becky said. "I had this place built under the assumption that eventually there would be workers who came in with children of their own. Or that someone might choose to adopt one of our kids, and might prefer to keep them close, rather than have them go back to a room in the home." The young redhead shrugged her shoulders and Peter nodded to her with understanding.

"Okay," Peter said. "I have a couple of bags, everything else should have been delivered to number 7."

"Yes. And it's all been taken inside. I didn't have anything put away because I didn't know where you would want it, but it's all there. And the house is prepared to be decorated whenever you're ready. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

Peter smiled and reached out to touch her hand. It was an old habit he'd never quite been able to let go of. "It's fine," he told her, then impulsively bent to kiss her cheek. "Why don't you and Elizabeth get your dinner and I'll unpack my bags in here. I take it that this is... My apartment, for the nights I'm here?" he asked. He'd seen three doors, and assumed that, at least for now, one would belong to each of the workers who worked the home. So far it was only him and Becky, so there were no other apartments needed. The few things he had in his bags could stay here; the rest would stay at number 7. That way he wouldn't have to pack a bag for his night shifts.

Still looking dazed, Becky looked at Peter, her green eyes focusing on him wearily for a long time. "Okay," she said. "You aren't hungry?"

Peter shook his head. "No," he told her. "I already ate. Go ahead and take care of Elizabeth and then we'll... What, change shifts?"

"At six o'clock," Becky said, and drifted away.

***