Chapter 12 #2
I try not to lose my temper since it never gets me anywhere. “No, Mom. We don’t want him put into the system. Marisa and Robert entrusted me with their most valuable asset. I’m not going to let them or the boy down.”
I hold my breath, waiting for her put-downs.
“You aren’t made to be a father.”
And there it is.
No shit. Mom and my ex made sure I had the coping skills of a honey badger. I don’t need a shrink to know that most of my faults were caused by how I was raised.
“I know, but I’m going to try. The kid deserves stability after losing his parents. They’re dead, Mom. He’s grieving and scared. The last thing I want to do is abandon him and toss him into a system that doesn’t care or has the funds to care.”
I only know how bad the system is because of Robert.
She’s silent on the phone for a while, once again processing.
Please don’t belittle me. Please, I need support here.
When she talks again, she makes a verbal list of everything I need to do for him. I already know these things, but I let her get it out. It makes her feel useful and important. Besides, her response here means something. I need her on my side about this.
“Did you get all that?”
“Yep, I wrote it all down,” I lie easily.
You learn to lie a lot when you have a mother like mine.
“And be prepared for a call or visit from social services. They’re going to investigate me to make sure I’m fit.
” I’ve filed an emergency petition to be his temporary guardian, thanks to Marisa and Robert’s lawyer. We had to be quick about it.
“My lawyer says that things will happen rather quickly. I’ll soon need to file for guardianship.
There will be investigations and interviews, and several hearings before the court rules me as Braeden’s guardian.
And apparently, I’ll need to care for him for several months before they grant me full guardianship. ”
“This is going to be a lot of work for you, on top of your job.”
“I realize that.”
She still treats me like I can’t figure shit out for myself. I have a college degree and a master’s. I’m successful. I didn’t become that by being stupid.
“Look, I need to run. I promised I’d take him to lunch and to see a movie.”
“Okay then. Call me if you need anything or any help.”
Not likely.
“Sure. Thanks, Mom.”
Well, that went easier than expected. Do I trust her? Hell no. Do I have a choice? Hell no to that, too.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I own a business, and I earn a substantial amount of money.
I’m educated, and I’ve never harmed a human being, unless it’s some guy’s asshole…
consensually, of course. God, I’m going to miss sex.
Still, my arms are wrapped around myself as I stand in the kitchen while the social services worker interviews Braeden during a surprise home visit.
I knew it was coming, but they don’t warn you when, so you aren’t prepared, which makes sense, I guess.
Most of his answers are ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ but at least he’s responsive.
The woman’s name is Colleen, and she’s young, or she appears that way. She wears huge glasses, turning her dark brown eyes almost anime-like. Her red hair is kept in a short, choppy cut. She seems sweet and likable, which helps Braeden to trust her.
She’s already talked to my co-workers, inspected my home, checked my paperwork, and made sure I’ve set him up in school, with a pediatrician and a therapist.
I shouldn’t have anything to worry about, but you never know. Honestly, my very own mother could be detrimental to the process, but if she’s caused problems for me, I haven’t heard anything about it.
Braeden and I had a nice lunch and fun at the movies yesterday. He’s a bit more open and looks a little brighter, but I’m sure grief comes and goes in waves.
Good thing we were home today when the surprise visit happened. The sooner we get this done, the sooner both of us can move on with our lives and build this new relationship.
When Colleen wraps it up, she stands and gathers her papers. “I think I have all that I need for now.”
“So, is everything okay?”
She gives me a kind smile. “I don’t have any suggestions for you because you seem to have everything in order. That’s going to be helpful. Other than that, I cannot tell you how things will or won’t go.”
I can’t think of a damn thing that will prevent this guardianship from going through. In Louisiana, they call it a tutorship.
I walk her to the front door and shake her hand. “Thanks,” I say.
After she leaves, I walk back to the kitchen, expecting to find Braeden, but he’s not there. I find him lying on the sofa, curled up, not looking at his phone or watching TV. Fuck. I hope he hasn’t had a setback. So, I do the only thing I can think of to make him feel better.
“Come on.”
He rolls onto his back and looks at me. “Where are we going?”
“Come on,” I say again. “It’s a surprise.”
It’s a surprise to me, too. God, what the hell am I thinking?
Three hours later, we’re back home with a truckload of pet supplies and a small tuxedo kitten named Cicero that has the vocal cords of an opera singer.
But Braeden hasn’t stopped smiling, so I call that a success.