Caregiving and Found Family in And Now, Back to You

Thematic Claim: Chosen Bonds as a Healing Force

In And Now, Back to You, B.K. Borison advances a clear thematic claim: the act of caregiving—whether inherited by circumstance or embraced by choice—can become the foundation for a found family capable of mending wounds that biological ties alone cannot heal. Both protagonists carry the weight of unconventional guardianship. Jackson Clark became legal guardian of his twin sisters at age twenty; Delilah Stewart was raised by her grandfather after her mother relinquished custody. Over the course of the novel, their separate caregiving journeys converge, revealing that family is not merely a matter of blood but of sustained, deliberate presence. The novel argues that being chosen—and choosing in return—carries a redemptive power that surpasses the obligations of biology.

Jackson's Guardianship: Order as an Act of Love

Jackson’s caregiving role defines his entire adult identity. When he officially took custody of Adeline and Penelope, he made a promise: “I might not always do the right thing with them, but I promised to try.” This vow shapes every detail of his life, from his rigid morning routines to his cautious professional choices at 101.6 LITE FM. His meticulousness—the Rolodex, the whiteboard, the weather-report scripts—is not mere rigidity but a survival mechanism born from the terror of failing two children who depend entirely on him.

The evidence of his investment surfaces in small, telling moments. His daughters recall how, when they were little, Jackson “used to read us the forecast instead of bedtime stories”—a detail that captures both his awkwardness and his devotion. He repurposed the only tools he had to create comfort. His anxiety about being fired is never about personal ambition; it is always filtered through the lens of providing for the twins. When he asks Adeline if they need him to restructure his hours, he offers to sacrifice the weather-reporting he loves without hesitation.

Crucially, Jackson’s guardianship is shadowed by the specter of his and the twins’ mother, Camille. The novel does not flatten Camille into a villain. Jackson admits, “Things with Camille weren’t always bad,” and he worries that his own resentment may have denied his sisters a relationship they need. This admission complicates the caregiving theme: Jackson is not merely a heroic surrogate parent but a young man still wrestling with the emotional fallout of his own childhood. His caregiving is both a gift and a burden, and the novel insists that both truths can coexist.

Delilah's Role Reversal: Navigating a Grandfather's Decline

Delilah’s caregiving arc mirrors Jackson’s but introduces a different temporal dimension: where Jackson’s guardianship looks forward toward his sisters’ futures, Delilah’s looks backward, preserving a past that is slipping away. Grandpa Gus has Alzheimer’s, and Delilah fields phone calls in which he mistakes her for a schoolgirl who should be home by four thirty. The doctors have told her not to argue with him during episodes. Instead, she learns to “go in there with him”—to enter his reality rather than forcing him into hers.

This technique exacts an emotional toll. Delilah describes it bluntly: “It doesn’t matter how many times it happens, it feels like a punch to the gut every time.” The novel captures both the exhaustion of caregiving—the split-second transitions from professional composure to personal crisis, as when she takes Gus’s call moments before a broadcast—and the profound love that sustains it. She promises lemon cookies and tea and General Hospital, small rituals that anchor Gus to the present when memory fails.

Delilah’s backstory reveals that her caregiving role was itself forged by abandonment. Her mother, a famous violinist, “signed over custody to my grandfather when I was barely six months so she could pursue an orchestra seat.” Gus chose Delilah, and Delilah now chooses Gus. This cycle of chosen caregiving becomes the emotional template she brings into her relationship with Jackson and his daughters.

The Convergence: Found Family as Mutual Adoption

The thematic arc culminates not in romance alone but in the formation of a blended found family. The turning point arrives when Adeline runs away, seeking a connection with Camille that crumbles upon contact. Delilah finds the twins shivering at a bus stop and shares her own story of running away at thirteen, trying to reach her mother in Amsterdam. She confesses what that failed journey taught her: “I realized how special it is to be loved by someone who chose me. Over and over again. And it was enough to make up for all the rest.”

This moment functions as a direct thematic statement. Delilah’s experience transforms Adeline’s pain into recognition. When Adeline whispers, “Yeah, that’s enough for me too,” she is not merely accepting her circumstances; she is embracing the found-family logic that the novel endorses. Jackson’s years of caregiving—the missed meals he never let them miss, the recitals he never skipped—outweigh the mother who could not be present.

Jackson’s own evolution complements this convergence. In a quiet scene with Adeline, he confesses his fear that he has not been enough, that he may have blocked her from something essential. Adeline’s response dismantles that fear: “Penelope and I have never missed a meal with you. You’ve never missed a doctor’s appointment or parent-teacher conference or dance recital. Why do I need a mom when I have a Jackson?” The question is rhetorical and devastating. It redefines caregiving not as a substitute for an absent biological parent but as a complete and sufficient relationship in its own right.

The Epilogue confirms the found family’s permanence. Delilah, Jackson, the twins, and Grandpa Gus occupy a shared domestic space. Gus’s memory is fading, “but his days are filled with laughter.” Jackson affirms he got everything he wanted: Delilah. The novel ends not with a wedding but with a Sunday broadcast, pastries from Skullduggery, and cartwheels in a Baltimore park—a portrait of ordinary, chosen togetherness.

Complexity and Contradiction: The Weight Caregiving Carries

Borison avoids sentimentalizing caregiving by acknowledging its genuine costs. Jackson’s anxiety, his compulsive need for control, and his difficulty trusting others are direct consequences of taking on adult responsibility too young. He has spent years “holding on to a lot of…stuff,” as he puts it. His character arc does not erase these traits; it integrates them into a larger self-acceptance. The novel suggests that caregiving shapes personality in ways that cannot simply be shed, only understood and shared.

Delilah’s caregiving carries its own contradictions. She lies to her grandfather when he is confused—a practice that “feels wrong, when Grandpa has always asked for the truth.” The ethical discomfort of these necessary deceptions haunts her. Caregiving, the novel implies, sometimes demands small betrayals of honesty for the sake of compassion.

Moreover, both protagonists must learn that receiving care is as essential as giving it. Jackson hijacks a live broadcast wearing Delilah’s turtle suit, a gesture of solidarity that reverses their dynamic: he becomes the vulnerable one, the ridiculous one, insisting she will “never have to be alone anymore.” Delilah, in turn, must accept that Jackson’s steadfastness—“coffee, candy, and notes”—constitutes a love worth trusting.

Symbolic Encodings of Care and Chosen Family

Three recurring symbols reinforce the theme of caregiving and found family.

The Turtle Suit

First introduced as an instrument of Delilah’s humiliation—Keith forces her into demeaning costumes for ratings—the turtle suit transforms into a symbol of chosen solidarity. When Jackson dons the suit to hijack her broadcast, he repurposes an object of shame into a declaration: “if you have to dress up as a turtle, then I’m going to dress up as a turtle too.” The suit, like caregiving itself, is awkward and unglamorous, but wearing it together makes it bearable. For more on this symbol, see the turtle suit analysis.

The Post-it Note Contract

Jackson’s Post-it notes—initially artifacts of his compulsive organization—become vehicles for affection. Delilah steals them; the twins doodle on his whiteboard. In the Epilogue, Delilah’s sparkly notebook contains a Post-it note from Jackson that reads “I love you.” The note is small, disposable, and handwritten—the antithesis of grand romantic gesture. It embodies the novel’s thesis that caregiving and love are built from accumulated, everyday acts. See also the Post-it note contract.

The Pillow Wall and Its Dissolution

Jackson’s pillow wall, which he constructs to maintain boundaries between himself and Delilah, represents the defenses that long-term caregivers erect. Its gradual dismantling parallels Jackson’s willingness to let someone care for him. The wall’s removal is not a single dramatic moment but a slow, reciprocal process—mirroring how found families coalesce. Read more about the pillow wall.

Additionally, Delilah’s signature sign-off—“And now, back to you”—acquires layered meaning. Jackson reinterprets it as the universe returning him to her across years of mishaps: “Every mishap, every accident, every hallway collision and spilled coffee. It’s always been me coming right back to you.” The phrase becomes a thematic anchor, suggesting that chosen bonds are not incidental but inevitable. Explore the sign-off’s significance.

Character Connections: The Caregiving Constellation

The theme extends beyond the protagonists. Maggie Lin functions as a professional fairy godmother to Delilah, recognizing her talent and engineering the partnership that liberates her from Keith’s abuse. Gianna offers fierce, unflagging support. Aiden shares hidden coffee. Penelope creates a “fifteen-step plan to get you a girlfriend,” a comedic but genuine expression of care for her brother. Even Ms. Singh, the elderly neighbor, contributes to the caregiving ecosystem by staying with the twins and making passive-aggressive comments about pantry sweets.

This web of secondary caregiving relationships illustrates the novel’s broader point: found families are not dyadic but communal. Jackson and Delilah are the nucleus, but their household expands to include everyone who chooses to show up.

Conclusion

And Now, Back to You offers a portrait of caregiving that is neither heroic nor tragic but human—marked by anxiety, exhaustion, small deceptions, and immense love. The novel insists that family is not a fixed biological inheritance but a continuous act of choosing. Jackson chooses his sisters every morning at dawn. Delilah chooses her grandfather every time she enters his fading memories rather than correcting them. Together, they choose each other and the blended family they build. The thematic claim endures beyond the final page: being chosen is enough to make up for all the rest.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does Jackson’s caregiving role shape his personality and worldview?

Jackson’s guardianship of Adeline and Penelope, which began when he was only twenty, manifests as a compulsive need for order and control. His scripts, Rolodex, and rigid routines are coping mechanisms developed to manage the overwhelming responsibility of raising two children. He admits to being “a little uptight” and “holding on to a lot of stuff.” These traits are not character flaws but survival strategies—evidence of how profoundly caregiving has shaped his identity. His arc involves learning that his structured love is sufficient, not deficient.

2. What distinguishes Delilah’s caregiving for Grandpa Gus from Jackson’s guardianship of his sisters?

Delilah’s caregiving involves managing cognitive decline and memory loss, requiring her to inhabit Gus’s reality rather than orient him to hers. While Jackson’s guardianship focuses on forward-looking provision—school, meals, recitals—Delilah’s caregiving is preservative, protecting a past that is eroding. Both roles demand emotional sacrifice, but Delilah faces the additional burden of necessary deception during Gus’s Alzheimer’s episodes, which she experiences as a betrayal of their lifelong honesty.

3. How does the novel use Delilah’s airport story to articulate its central thematic claim?

Delilah’s story of running away at thirteen to find her mother in Amsterdam—and being retrieved by Grandpa Gus in his safety vest—functions as an embedded parable. She explicitly draws its lesson for Adeline: “I realized how special it is to be loved by someone who chose me.” This line crystallizes the novel’s argument that chosen love compensates for biological abandonment. The story transforms Delilah’s personal history into a gift she can offer the twins, bridging their separate caregiving experiences.

4. In what ways does the turtle suit evolve as a symbol of caregiving and solidarity?

The turtle suit begins as a tool of Keith’s professional humiliation—forcing Delilah into absurd costumes for ratings. Jackson’s decision to wear it during a live broadcast redefines the symbol entirely. He tells Delilah, “I wanted you to know you don’t have to be alone anymore,” and promises to dress as a turtle whenever she must. The suit becomes an emblem of chosen burden-sharing: caregiving is often unglamorous and ridiculous, but it becomes bearable—even meaningful—when shouldered together.

5. How does the novel address the emotional costs and contradictions of long-term caregiving without diminishing its value?

Borison presents caregiving’s costs honestly. Jackson’s generalized anxiety and difficulty relinquishing control are direct consequences of taking on adult responsibility prematurely. Delilah’s necessary lies to her grandfather during his confused episodes cause her genuine moral distress. Jackson worries his resentment toward Camille may have harmed his sisters by denying them a maternal relationship. The novel does not resolve these tensions neatly; instead, it suggests that caregiving’s value lies precisely in its imperfection—the accumulation of small, persistent acts that, taken together, constitute an unshakeable commitment.

For further exploration of these characters, visit the profiles for Jackson Clark, Delilah Stewart, Adeline Clark, Penelope Clark, Keith, and Grandpa Gus Stewart. Return to the main book page for additional resources.