Chapter 9
JACE
Finding out that Mrs. Stevens had to move her plans up because her sister broke an arm has thrown me into panic mode.
First, I had to go to the new workshop and make sure that the more adult side of my business was fully under lock and key so that no eight year old could happen upon those items. Then, I got the text saying social services were at my home…
my barely moved into and might possibly still have beer in the fridge from Jackson home.
Storming in probably was a mistake judging by the way the guy in the suit flinches at the sight of me, but Ash places a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
In my panic, I forgot the number one rule of my life: Don’t make big or loud movements. My appearance is trigger enough. I don’t need to have some random guy saying I’m violent because I didn’t walk slowly into my own home.
“Sorry. Sorry. I thought the appointment was for tomorrow morning,” I manage to gasp out as Ash comes over to give me a hug. Somehow, she always knows when I need one.
The man manages to settle himself while my friend offers me comfort, and I have to wonder if he is aware of the uniqueness yet when it comes to some of the residents up here.
“No need to apologize, Mister Whitetower,” he says before pulling a pen out of his pocket. “My supervisor didn’t tell me there was an appointment. She just handed me the file and said it was needed in twenty-four hours.”
After Ash handles the introduction, she retreats back to her own home, leaving me alone with Bradley Sommers.
In my experience, the men who become social workers were always a bit more jaded than the women.
Brad is no exception to that rule; however, once I tell him that I grew up in and out of the foster system, he relaxes.
“So you understand, then,” he sighs after checking the window lock in the bedroom that I set up as Gerry’s room. “My job requires a series of boxes to check off. But I am – pardon the language – so fucking tired of seeing kids in homes that are safe on paper but there is nothing I can do until…”
His words trail off. I place a hand on his shoulder after a moment to bring him out of his head. For the rest of his visit, we swap some stories on our knowledge of the reality within the system.
I honestly can’t decide how I feel about the successful reunifications he has had. I am truly glad for the kids, but I feel the anger at my mother stir up inside of me again. Then, I feel guilty for being angry with a dead woman.
“From what you’ve told me about your workshop, I don’t think I will need to inspect it. The safety measures you’ve outlined far exceed our criteria. The only question I have at this point is regarding childcare while you are working. Who would be watching Gerald? Have you made any arrangements?”
Shit. Fuck. Damn. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Finding a babysitter slipped my mind, honestly. Going from having weeks to hours to get ready made things a bit difficult. I keep forgetting that his childhood is not mine.
People started leaving me home alone at the age of four. By the time I was Gerry’s age, I was taking care of other kids in an overcrowded foster home or making sure my mother didn’t choke on her own vomit. The years all blurred together.
“I’ll be watching the squirt,” Ash pipes up from the hallway, carrying in a bag of what smells like Toby’s falafels. “Being unemployed and living right next door means free childcare in exchange for all the years of plumbing expertise.”
I throw her a grateful smile when Brad turns towards the sound of her voice.
After taking down her information for a basic background check, he tells me that everything looks good to bring Gerry home tomorrow and that he will be in touch for a follow-up in about six weeks to cover all of the school stuff.
For once, I don’t think I will dread seeing a social worker. It’s… weird.
After scarfing down the latest delicacy from our dysfunctional family’s culinary school graduate, I brace myself for the interrogation from my neighbor.
So far, the only person I have told everything to is my big brother…
well, almost everything. Jackson still doesn’t know I am the one who had to sign the papers to pull the plug on David.
“So, am I gonna hear more details about the crotch goblin I volunteered to watch for you?”
Yep. She is not exactly happy with me right now.
After refilling our drinks, I launch into the story starting with getting the phone call after work all of the way through my frantic rush to get my life to be more child friendly in the last few days. To her credit, Ash has always been a good listener. I just have never been a good sharer.
“I will agree to reserve judgment on the crotch goblin until I have at least met him,” she says with her nose raised in the air to make me laugh.
It works for a second. Then, it hits me what has to happen tomorrow at the hospital.
The original plan was to take Gerry to say goodbye to David with Mrs. Stevens as backup.
Now, it’s just us and he will be moving in with me right away.
David’s landlord gave me the code for the storage unit where he put all of their things yesterday.
“You might want to cut Gerry some slack,” I tell her and slump back on the couch, blinking rapidly. “He kinda doesn’t know yet that David isn’t going to wake up.”