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Amy’s Point Of View
Billy seemed happy, settling into our extended family quickly. Understandably, he was more confident when Diana was nearby than when he was alone. As I sat in our living room sofa nest area, he lurked, watching me with typical curiosity as shy children do.
I smiled, and Billy quickly hid behind the arm of a sofa, flattening himself down onto the seat cushions in the misguided belief that he became invisible because he wanted to be. I giggled, more entertained by the innocent behavior of a sweet child than by an evening of streaming box set series.
As Diana passed him by, she rifled her fingers through the small boy’s hair, already instinctively a Mom.
“You are kidding nobody by hiding there, Billy.”
“Really? You can see me?”
“Come and say hi to Amy.”
He commando rolled off the sofa and slipped behind Mom like a cyclist riding another’s slipstream, shooting occasional glances at me from around her waist. When Diana slid a coffee onto my table, its aroma had already taken me on a journey.
Billy held his Mom’s leg like a buoy in an ocean swell that cast him and his dinghy crew overboard.
Diana had decided to wait before introducing her partially adopted son to the concept of school since he had never ventured outside the Institute or home other than for occasional trips with his parents or newly approved guardian.
Frank had stayed with us for a few days, providing invaluable support, before leaving to care for the other children at his Institute. However beneficial his visit was, departure was like releasing a pressure valve, letting Diana and Billy breathe and bond.