It was seven in the afternoon and Scott was waiting on the porch waiting for his mom to return from the Child Protective Services.

About a week ago his mom sat him down at the kitchen table to explain that they would be a temporary foster home to a troubled kid who needed a place to stay. Some people from CPS had brought him to the hospital to get him checked out. His mom treated him for several injuries he had sustained. When they mentioned to her that he would have to stay at a local shelter while they figure out where to send him, she spoke up and offered up their home.

Scott admired his mom for that. She has always been a loving and empathetic person. But this is a little crazy.

"'Troubled'," Scott said. "Troubled how? Is he, like, dangerous?"

"No," his mom said quickly. "No, of course not. He's just had a rough life."

Scott nodded in understanding. After a few moments he asked, "What's his name?"

"Isaac," she said.

Isaac, Scott thought. How can a kid named 'Isaac' be troubled?

"When will he be coming?" Scott asked.

"I'll be picking him up from Child Protective Services next week."

So here Scott was. Waiting for this 'troubled' kid who was going to be living with him for what could be forever. He knew next to nothing about him. Whatever information he could get from his mother was minimal. He was just six when his mother died and his father became consumed with grief. Just when things started to turn around for the family, Isaac's brother had died in combat. That seemed to be the final blow. His father lost it and began abusing Isaac, physically and mentally. She wouldn't go into to detail. She said that it was Isaac's business and Scott agreed, although he was curious.

There was a chill in the air so Scott hurried back inside and grabbed a jacket off the coat rack by the door. When he returned outside he spotted his mom's car coming down the road. It wasn't the greatest car but she wasn't bothered by it. It got her from point A to point B, she liked to say. It was all she could afford as a single mom with a demanding job.

When she pulled in Scott couldn't see into the car. There was a wide glare on the windshield that blocked his view. Melissa opened her door and looked at her son, "Hey, honey." She said with a wave.

A few seconds later the passenger side door opened.

Here we go, Scott thought, taking a deep breath.

Next to the car stood a relatively pale, tall, boy with golden brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a dark blue zip-up hoodie over a white shirt and dark jeans. Scott's mom worked her way around to him. He looked at Scott but only briefly before he looked at the ground. Melissa took his arm and walked him over to the steps leading up to the house.

"Scott, this is Isaac." She said with a smile. "Isaac, this is my son, Scott."

Scott smiled down at Isaac. "Nice to meet you," he said holding out a hand.

Isaac looked up and took his hand and shook it. "You too," he said, returning the smile before quickly turning his gaze back to the ground.

"Well," Melissa said. "I'll go get your stuff and Scott here will show you to your room." She smiled at them both and turned back to the car.

Isaac slid his hands in his pockets. "Thank you," he said quickly to Melissa.

He's so nervous, Scott thought.

"Come on," he said. "This way." Scott turned and walked inside, Isaac following silently. They climbed the stairs and walked down the short hallway to the guest room. Scott opened the door and walked through to reveal a good sized room with a bed in the far corner all made up with pillows and blankets. There was a nightstand next to the bed and on it stood a lamp that he assumed was new. There was a dresser on the other side where Isaac could keep his clothes. What little he did have probably wouldn't take up the first two drawers. There were two windows letting in the late afternoon light and a door leading to a small bathroom that included a toilet and sink.

"Well," Scott said throwing his arms up. "This is it! Hope you like it."

Isaac still looked very uncomfortable. He was standing inside the doorway looking around the room, his hands still in his pockets. He at Scott and smiled a nervous smile. "Thanks," he said. "It's great." and went back to surveying the room.

Scott didn't know what else to say and the situation was becoming more and more awkward as time went by. Luckily, he heard his mom working her way up the stairs. Isaac quickly moved into the room as she rounded the corner and came in behind him. She only had one small suitcase in her hand.

That's it? Scott thought. That's all he has?

"So here's your bag," Melissa said. "Feel free to unpack, there's space all over." She smiled at Isaac.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

Melissa looked at Scott. "Honey, why don't we give Isaac some time to relax and get situated?"

Scott nodded at Isaac as he walked to the door.

"We'll be downstairs if you need us." Melissa said as she closed the door behind them.

They walked downstairs and sat on the couch in the living room. "So what do you think?" his mom asked.

"He seems nice," Scott said. "I think he'll need some time to get used to living with us. He looks really uncomfortable and nervous."

"Well wouldn't you if you had to go live with people you've never met before?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I guess." Scott said looking at the stairs. "I better not wake up to him standing over my bed with a knife."

Melissa hit Scott on the arm with a gasp. "Don't be ridiculous." She matched his gaze, looking at the stairs, and smiled. "I think he'll do great here."