Sometimes I worry I’m standing in his way. I know I’m a type of home for him like he is for me—no matter where we are physically—but I can’t ignore that he’s never had a physical place to call home. It’s not the same. I know it. I’m sure he knows he’s missing that too. Like a little kid who has never had candy before. They don’t know exactly what they’re missing, but when they see another kid with a lollipop, they just know it’s something to be desired.

Deb’s humming, and I’m pretty sure it’s the theme song from The Andy Griffith Show. Parker used to like that show. I never did. I couldn’t decide whether to feel bad for Opie because he had only one parent or jealous because he had one parent.

Deb’s a single parent. Jacob’s dad died in a car accident when he was only a baby. But Deb’s a good one, and she has enough money from her late husband’s insurance to work only one job that she loves. Parker would be lucky to have her. But it doesn’t stop me from dreaming.

She stops humming and turns off the stove.

“Anyone want bacon?” She turns and flips her hair from her eyes. On weekends she wears it long and loose and slightly out of control.

“Yeah,” Parker and Jacob mumble in sync. She drops some on their plates and looks to me.

“No, thanks.” I smile, and it’s not for Deb or for me, but for Parker. Because even though I may not feel at home here, he does, and I will smile all day, every day, if it means he can be happy.

She grins back, taking my smile at face value. Most people do. But smiles are my greatest illusions.

Her eyes go to the top of my new green racer-back tank peeking out the neck of my sweatshirt. I pull the zipper higher. I shouldn’t have worn it. I’ve given her some kind of victory now, and that is too much. I don’t like to give foster-whatevers a victory unless it serves my larger goal—whatever trick I happen to be playing on them. Although I’m not actually playing any tricks on Deb. I can see that she cares about my brother. All I have to do is not be an annoyance. But I won’t do any more than that.

At least she doesn’t mention it. She turns back and moves more pancakes from the grill to a large plate and brings them to the table.