Chapter 29
JACE
The day I dreaded finally came. Gerry has been with me for almost a year with no issues, no contestation from any other family members.
I figured there was no one, especially since the kid himself doesn’t remember any family outside of his father and grandparents, and they passed away when he was in kindergarten.
“They’re petitioning the court to say they are the better option,” Brad grumbles before taking a bite of the pizza he once again brought to my workshop.
It’s become a thing for us. “We have to at least allow them to submit it because it is his grandparents on his mother’s side and they are considered on the same relation level you are as a half-brother. But they fucking suck, Dude.”
While Brad is muttering on and on about how fucked the system is for even allowing this, I am texting Justice.
He had one of the family court lawyers at his firm start the process for me to fully adopt Gerry precisely in case something like this were to happen.
I was planning to surprise him on his birthday next week.
Ash has his own appointment with the courts coming up, too.
Justice:
how far along is the petition?
I ask Brad the question, and he takes a few seconds to reconfigure his brain from rambling mode to answer mode. “They just had an attorney send a letter to the office, but they have to give us thirty days minimum to respond before a judge will even think about looking at it. Why?”
Sliding my phone over to him to answer my brother’s questions, I take a bite of the buffalo chicken pizza he brought this time. I watch while the two go back and forth, but I don’t let myself hope until I see a smile on my friend’s face.
“Your brother is diabolical. Are you aware of that? That your oldest brother is a freaking sociopath?”
He hands my phone back to me so that I can read through the texts.
Justice:
how far along is the petition?
Me:
Brad the social worker speaking. Notice dated 2 days ago. No official filing
Justice:
sent certified?
Me:
FedEx. Signature required.
Justice:
who was it addressed to specifically?
Me:
my supervisor
Justice:
how many supervisors?
Me:
3
Justice:
how would they know which supervisor has Gerry’s file?
Me:
alphabetical system by surname
Justice:
standard 30 days?
Me:
yep
Justice:
who is ur typical judge?
Me:
Roberts
Justice:
got it. Petition will fail to reach the courts in time. Roberts owes a favor.
Me:
I can’t know details
Justice:
u won’t if ur lucky. Give jace his phone back.
Brad is happily chewing on his pepperoni pizza when I look up from my phone.
All the worry and anger from earlier has faded away with just a few words exchanged with my brother.
If I wasn’t already aware of how my brother has a love-hate relationship with one of the guys in his office, I would consider setting him up with Brad just to give my friend this kind of peace in his life.
By the time I close up the workshop, my nerves are fried.
The back and forth emotions combined with the undercurrent of suspicion have me all tied up in knots – and not the good kind.
I pull the bike over at the bottom of the hill to wait for Gerry’s bus to drop him off.
He doesn’t get to ride on the back of my motorcycle on any actual roads, but when the weather is nice, I’ll take him down to catch the bus in the mornings and pick him up in the afternoon to take him back up to our home.
Since Ash never moved back to his old place, the landlord didn’t waste any time renting it out.
The good news is that one of the guys is really close with some other people in the neighborhood, so we are still like a family.
Gerry loves hanging out with them, too. That has been a major plus when it comes to needing a babysitter for play nights.
“Hey there, Brother Bear!”
I grunt at the impact from the missile that resembles my little brother. I swear he shot up an entire foot over the course of this school year. He is definitely taller than I was at his age. Then again, he wasn’t suffering from malnutrition for most of his life, either.
After we signed into the ancestry database that did the DNA test, we went on an academic adventure to try and see what our shared family history consists of. It turns out that my assumption that my height didn’t come from the Whitetower side of the family was only half right.
The Whitetowers were average height at best. The Clarkes were not. Our grandmother, Abigail Clarke, was a lady whose father nearly reached seven foot in height. Her brothers were all around my height.
“Is it the end of the school year yet?” Gerry asks before scrambling onto the seat behind me.
“Matt, not Mr. Eric’s Matt but the kid in my class.
Matt won’t stop talking about how his mom and dad are taking him to Disney and I kinda wanna punch him every time he says mom and dad cuz he says it in that way…
ya know how Ash says words really loud and slow when the dummies misgender them?
That’s how Matt says mom and dad when I’m around. ”
At this point, the kid is used to me taking time to think before speaking.
After all, it was drilled into me my whole childhood.
But he also knows I won’t ever cut him off the way it was done to me.
Ash loves pointing out all of the similarities between my little brother and me now that they’re breaking through the walls I had built up over the years.
Apparently, the rambling is genetic. Who knew?
A couple of hours later, Ash comes home with Chinese food and a story about Ivy saying her very first cuss word while Fred was on a conference call with a potential partner for expansion into Ohio and Michigan.
Of course, Cas was mortified, but everyone else laughed it off while Ivy continually dropped the F-bomb for the next hour.
I had honestly forgotten all about what Gerry said this afternoon until Ash brought it up after climbing into bed.
“Do I have to borrow the cement mixer from work for this Matt kid?”
Chuckling, I pull them closer then sigh. “No for the kid. Maybe for Gerry’s grandparents.”