head. “I have a student with it. Since music includes breathing, the parents thought I could help with his condition.”
“Are you helping him?”
“I think I am. He’s a sweetie.”
“Good for you, Jules.”
He glanced down at his phone. “The house is right up here. I hope it passes the standards OCFS has in place.”
“Me, too.”
She swerved over to the curb in front of 5523 Lincoln Street. The house loomed before them, up three stories, gray, shingled and sturdy. She was sorry to say, “The paint’s peeling a bit.”
“That won’t count much.” A sidewalk separated the house from the street. “Thankfully the walkway and stoop are in good shape. So many of these older houses have cracked concrete, which would work against future fostering because they’d be dangerous to kids.”
“Shall I wait out here?” she asked.
“This is a pretty safe neighborhood, but I’ll be at least an hour, and I don’t want you alone.”
She’d warned the man thousand times since they were teens not to make decisions for her. “Seth…”
“Sorry. You decide. But I’d prefer you come in with me.”
“All right. I will.”
“And if you see things that are…I don’t know, iffy, keep it in mind to tell me later.”
Seconds after he used the heavy knocker, the door opened. Before him stood a young man, dressed in khaki shorts and a collared shirt, dark hair combed back, and wary eyes. He greeted them. “Hey, I’m Johnny. Seth, right?”
“Yeah and this is a coworker, Julianne.”
After Julianne said hello, the boy stepped aside. Both walked into a large foyer, with hardwood flooring, worn some, but not hazardous. Johnny jammed his hands into his pockets. “So, how do we do this?”
“I’d like to ask you the standard questions used at Legal Aid before we take a case, then talk to your grandmother, then take a tour of your house.”
“Does everything have to be…perfect? Sometimes, Grandma isn’t very neat.”
“No, of course not.”
Julianne didn’t know if she was supposed to speak, but that didn’t stop her. “My grandma wasn’t either, Johnny. It’s common among the elderly.”
They sat in the dining room at a big scarred oak table. Seth asked the standard queries: Did the household income qualify for Legal Aid and fostering? Who would take care of the kids when Johnny worked at his job on the docks? And more.
“I think that’s enough for me. You passed.” Seth stood. “Let’s go talk to Grandma.”
Johnny pumped his fist. “Yes!”
They walked through an older but neat kitchen, to where a door led to a screened-in back porch. “Grandma, these are the people I told you about.”
Grandma smiled up at them from where she sat in a recliner. The application said she was sixty-seven and spry enough to watch the kids. Her purple shirt complemented her white hair and alert eyes.
“Hello, I’m Dorothy Cordello.”
Seth introduced himself and Jules, and when they took chairs, Dorothy came to the edge of hers. “Would you like some lemonade?”
“Thank you,” Seth said.
“I’d love some.”
The older woman started to get up.
“No, please—” Julianne began.
Johnny intervened. “Let her get up. She’s supposed to move, every hour.”
Dorothy stood easily, went into the kitchen and returned with lemonade for everybody. She was steady and sure on her feet. They chatted with her, and found she was totally onboard with Johnny’s foster care. She spoke briefly about her son and daughter who’d kicked Johnny out. Her eyes clouded and her words were critical. “How they could do that to my boy is beyond me. And they told me he’d run away. I had no idea he was in a group home. When I found out, I brought him here.” She gave Johnny a squeeze on his arm and smiled at him.
They spoke of her ability to take care of the kids. She’d been an elementary school teacher and retired at sixty-two.
Then Johnny took Seth and Julianne on a tour of the house. Some furniture was worn, like the floors, but neat and clean. Three bedrooms upstairs, and yes, Johnny told them, Grandma could climb them easily since her hip surgery. Then they returned to the porch.
“Do we pass muster?” Dorothy asked.
“From my vantage point, you passed with flying colors.”
“My Joseph used to use that phrase.”
Julianne asked, “How long has he been gone?”
“Ten years. I was sad for a long time. Having Johnny here has been a godsend.”
Johnny walked them to the door. “What next?” he asked in the foyer.
“We make a plan. The first step is to get an interview with OCFS so we can fill out the paperwork