Author's Musings: I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this out. Honestly, the majority of it has been sitting in my computer in a few different pieces, waiting for me to just finish it, so, I have. I don't really know what to say, except this is the final chapter. Thank you so much for sticking with me. Its been a ride. Thank you.

As time passes and the days get longer and warmer, I fall into a routine with my new family. I go to school, go to soccer practice (Sarah plays on a local YMCA team and she convinced me to join her, even though I've never played soccer in my life) I go home. Saturday's are filled with homework and more soccer practice and hanging out with Sarah, who has declared us best friends, sealing it with a pair of matching pink-and-purple bracelets she made in art class. Sometimes we are joined with other friends of Sarah's, who are now my friends too by default, but mostly it's just the two of us. We watch tv, play in the snow, talk about boys, the usual things that normal fifth-graders do. And it feels so nice, being normal. Doing normal things.

Sunday is family day in the Isles-Rizzoli household. It starts with my weekly soccer games, even though I repeatedly said that it's no big deal, that no one needs to come, that I suck, but every Sunday Jane, Maura and Angela are there, sitting in the sidelines in folding lawn chairs, though Jane doesn't do much sitting, preferring to stalk up and down the sidelines, yelling at refs and giving the coaches a run for their money. Tommy, Lydia and TJ also come most weeks, and so do Frankie, Barry and Vince when their schedules allow them. I easily have the loudest cheering section when they all make it, it's almost deafening when I actually get the ball. They had to pause the game one week when I managed to score a goal, it was the first time everyone had made it and they had practically stormed the field after I scored. It was embarrassing, but my heart swelled with pride at my accomplishment, and seeing the smiles on their faces gave me one more memory to cancel out a bad one from before I met these amazing people, before I was adopted into this big, crazy family.

After soccer games it's lunch with the team, then home with my mothers and Angela.

It takes me a long time to stop calling them Jane and Maura, but after a particularly muddy soccer game I slipped and fell and when my mothers rush to check on me it just slips out, like the most natural thing in the world. "Mooooms ,I'm fine! Can I go back into the game, the team needs me! ". They had immediately stopped their fussing , and spent a few seconds looking at each other, then back to me, making sure they had heard me right. After a silent exchange they both kissed me on the head and walked back to the sidelines hand in hand. I was glad they didn't make a big deal about it, and from that day on they were no longer Jane and Maura, my legal guardians. They were Ma and Mom, Mama and Mommy, my parents. And I finally felt at peace. My nightmares and axiety attacks were nearly gone after that, through therapy and regular mediation with Mom, that turned into weekly yoga sessions when I got old enough to join her studio.

-
I have two mothers. One is brash and bold and loud , while the other is more subdued. One is quick-witted and sarcastic , a ball-buster of a Boston PD Lieutenant, with a sharp mind and a low tolerance for bull, while my other mother has an easy grace to her, a flawless smile and a brain with more facts in it than all of my teachers combined, I'm sure of it.

My mothers have different strengths and weaknesses to them. The one I have dubbed MaMo, ever since that time when I were almost eleven and I were debating between Mom and Maura and my mouth couldn't decide quick enough, she helps me with most of my homework (except the subjects my other mother has managed to remember from high school) and she helps me do my hair before the school dance and pick out the perfect dress for 9th grade homecoming, even though I'm not the biggest fan of dresses, but I know that boy in my science class smiles a tiny bit bigger at me when I wear one to school, so I wear one to homecoming and he smiled and asked I to dance and it was wonderful.

And when he shows up at my house the following Friday for our date he is greeted by my Ma, who had conveniently been in the middle of cleaning her service weapon, and delighted in showing him how it all worked and mentioning just how quickly she can put one together, and how she has won several honors for her marksmanship from the Boston Police Department. Where she happens to be a Lieutenant. With a lot of connections. And he blushes beet red and looks like he wants to crawl into his shoes but he manages to stand straight and hardly stutters at all when he answers her questions, and my other mother is flushed with embarrassment at her wife's behavior, but she says nothing because she knows that this is Jane's way of showing she cares.

"Hey kiddo, whatcha writing?" Ma asked, kissing the top of my head and stroking my hair.

"Just an essay for English class" I answered, turning around in my computer chair. Ma stepped back a step and looked at me, arms crossed, waiting for me to finish. There were a few wrinkles around her eyes that hadn't been there when we first met, but other than that she looked exactly the same as that fateful day four years ago, wild curls and all.

"It's supposed to be about our heroes" I continued.

"So who'd you write about?" she said

"You and Mom, about when you adopted me" at that I saw her normally sharp features soften.

"Can I read it?" she asked quietly. She knew that that time in my life was a rough one, getting over the trauma of being in foster care for so long and adjusting to a loving, stable home where I could be myself and not have to worry about being given up or being ignored. But now I was in a stable home, a home where I didn't have to question the love of my family and didn't have to hide behind a wall of shyness or anger, a home where I was free to express myself without being judged. Maura and Jane, my Mommy and Mama, my mothers, were proof that love heals all wounds, that truly good people existed in this world, people who could love unconditionally, people who could love someone even when they didn't love themselves. Every morning that I woke up warm, safe, and loved in my bed I sent a small, silent prayer up to whatever power was there, thanking whoever they were for putting these people in my life. They took an angry, introverted young girl and helped her become who she always had the potential to be, but not the right environment. I will always be thankful for my mothers.

"Of course, let me print it out for you"

That night, while I was in my room getting ready for bed, I heard a small knock on my door. "Come in" I called softly, turning around to see who it was. Mom stood in the doorway, her blonde hair down around her shoulders, already changed into silk pajamas, holding a packet of papers. She walked over to my bed, sitting next to me.

"I read your essay Shannon, it was lovely" she said, holding out the sheaf of papers. "A few grammatical errors, but very minor ones, I circled them, you should correct them before you hand it in next week." She added, in her classic Mom way. "Shannon, I just want to tell you how proud I am of you, of all the progress you've made since you became our daughter, of all you've accomplished. You're Ma and I love you so much, and it makes us so happy that you feel comfortable enough to show us this, to write about this." She had a small smile on her face, just enough for her dimples to show, and her hand was resting on my knee. I put my hand on hers, smiling back.

"You and Ma are my heroes, how could I not write about you? With all you've given me these last four years, I never thought I could have a family like this, and everyone was so open and loving when you brought me home, and I was so horrible for a while there" at that Mom shook her head, but I held up my hand to stop her "You know those first few months were rough, I really thought you guys would give me up. But you never did, and I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate everything you did for me back then. I love you and Ma."

"And we love you too sweetheart. Alright, its time for bed, you have to get up early for practice. I love you, sleep well" and with a kiss on the forehead, Mom turned out the lights and closed my door behind her. And at that, warm and full of the kind of love that only family can provide, I slept.

The End

I..I don't know. I don't know how I feel about this chapter. Or even this story as a whole. But I would very much appreciate your input. Thank you.