by Bree Cariad
“Good point.” He hugged Aiden briefly. “See you in a couple hours.”
He wanted to call Brecker and see if he had time for lunch, but couldn’t. Not with the way things were. He did need to do lunch. So he called the next best person. “Hey, Siobhan. Have time for lunch?”
She kept his mind off things and completely stayed away from the Brecker subject, except for saying, “I think it’s great Brecker’s going to adopt Aiden. They will be good for one another.”
He had to agree. In fact, in thinking about his kids, he’d found each one of them. Except for Aiden. The Lord led Brecker to find and rescue Aiden.
You knew then, didn’t You? That Brecker was meant to be Aiden’s father.
Maybe he and Brecker were never supposed to develop more than that. Perhaps this had been so that Aiden and Brecker could find one another.
Be patient, my son. Things will happen in my time.
By the time he arrived back at the court house, there were only five minutes until his meeting and he found James seated outside the judge’s door. “James,” he said warmly and stepped forward with his hand out. “Good to see you.”
James smiled and shook his hand. “I don’t think you’ll need me. But I’m here just in case. Is Aiden with the therapist?”
“Yes. For the last two hours.”
He nodded. “I know you’ve been through these before, but just to reiterate. We’ll go in there. The judge will announce her decision. As long as it’s what we expect, she’ll assign his custody over to you permanently. And she’ll ask what Aiden wants his new last name to be.”
Jonathon winced. “I don’t know how that will go. Brecker’s planning on adopting him and at that point, he’ll be a Brecker. Should he change it to something else in the meantime?” He never thought in terms of last names with his kids. Most of those he only knew if he looked up their paperwork. They belonged to the shelter and so it had never bothered him. But he wondered if Aiden would want to change it now. And what to?
With a laugh, James winked at him. “Yes, Brecker was on the phone with me for over an hour yesterday morning, asking me to look up all the legalities of private adoption and what he needed to do. While he doesn’t mind calling in a few favors, he wants this to be completely legal and thorough so there are no questions asked.”
The door opened, stalling anything Jonathon would have had to say. “Reverend Neiland,” Judge Highland said with a smile, holding out her hand. “So good to see you again. And Mr. Orlin. Please come in.”
They followed her into a small office with a large oak desk, one leather wing chair, and four smaller chairs facing it.
“Let’s get the formalities over with,” she said, “or at least most of them before I bring Aiden back in.” She sat down and Jonathon and James sat across from her. “Caryn has wonderful things to say about Aiden Marshad. She says he’s lively, happy, and even with the issues he has dealt with over the last year, is in remarkably good shape mentally. And she lays all of that at your feet, Reverend Neiland. You have a fan,” she said rather dryly. “So unless you have something to add, I see no reason not to hand over permanent custody.”
Even though he knew this was what should happen, Jonathon still felt relieved. “Thank you, Your Honor. I don’t have anything to add except that Aiden is a great kid and I’m happy we no longer need to worry about any issues from his parents.”
Her eyes somewhat darkened. “I heard about what his father did to you, Reverend. There’s no way the court will allow him or his wife near that child.” She opened up a folder and turned it around. “I need your signature on the bottom to say you’re taking full responsibility for the boy known as Aiden Marshad as of today, January 5.”
Jonathon signed his name and James signed as a signatory.
“All right. The last thing we need to deal with,” the judge said, “is Aiden’s last name. Do you know if he would like to change it?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure.” He glanced over at James, who nodded, before turning back to her. “Court Brecker would like to adopt Aiden. As we know, it’s a multi-step process, but in a few months, as long as everything goes according to plan, he’ll have the last name of Brecker. So if Aiden wants a temporary last name now, that’s fine. But he’s already thinking of himself as a Brecker, so I think that would be the only last name he could come up with.”
Judge Highland sat back in her chair, a pleased expression on her face. “Now that I’m glad to hear. Tell him to go through me when the legal matter is ready.”
“We will,” James assured her.
“All right. Let me get him and then you can go enjoy your afternoon.” She left through a side door and only a short time later came back with Aiden in tow. He ran over to Jonathon’s side and sat down before she returned to her seat.
“Aiden,” she said, “you’re now a ward of Reverend Jonathon Neiland’s. He is, for all intents and purposes, your legal guardian.” Aiden nodded looking relieved. “I hear there might be a permanent adoption heading your way.” Aiden nodded even more enthusiastically. “Until that gets made permanent, do you have a choice on your last name? You can keep Marshad. Or choose another if you would feel more comfortable.”
Aiden gnawed on his lower lip for a moment and then spoke. “Your Honor, Caryn and I talked about that. I know it will only be for a few months, but I really don’t want to be a Marshad anymore. I was hoping….” He glanced at Jonathon and then back at her. “I was hoping to be Aiden Regelo for now. If that’s okay with Reverend Jonathon.”
It was so unexpected that Jonathon was unable to speak for a few moments. Before he could even wonder if that was the right thing to do, he knew Paul would have been pleased. His eyes stung and he nodded. “I think that’s a wonderful choice, Aiden. Paul would have been proud to call you a Regelo.” Aiden launched himself at Jonathon and hugged him. The boy didn’t know how to do anything halfway. When he hugged you, you knew it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brecker walked into the council room, his mind somewhat at rest. He’d decided to give himself three weeks to make his decision about Jonathon and by giving himself a date, it helped relieve some of the stress. Added to that, James let him know everything went well at the court hearing and that his son now went by the name Aiden Regelo.
He knew there was a multitude of stuff that went into adoption, but he hadn’t truly grasped the enormity of it until James sent over a pre-adoption checklist a lawyer friend of his sent him. The two things that stood out the most were the home visits. Finding a bigger place was at the top of his list of things to do.
Three of the other four members of the council were in their seats. Crelon stood by the window, an odd smile on his face. Hopefully that night’s session wouldn’t be one of Crelon’s agenda-filled monarchies. The less they had to decide, the more he tried to push his agendas on the rest of them.
“Evening, Kyle, Owen, Darrel, Todd,” he said as he took his seat.
The first three acknowledged him. Crelon did not. Instead he sauntered over and turned his chair around and sat astride, like he was some hoodlum in a 1960s movie. Figuring that ignoring him was the best thing he could do, Brecker brought out the paper their secretary handed him on the way in.
It was what Owen Bennet termed citizen complaint night. The floor was basically open for any of their citizens to come in and express their views on any issue they saw fit. Brecker could feel the headache starting already.
“Anyone have anything to bring up before our fair citizens arrive?” he asked.
“We need to add the sidewalk issue to next month’s meeting,” Bennet said with a yawn. “If we don’t figure out a way, it’s going to become a bond issue.”
“Just what we need,” Kyle Morrow sighed. “Another reason to waste tax dollars in a vote.”
“I think,” Darrel Astonblow said in that way that always made Brecker imagine he was a teapot about to whistle, “that we should discuss the bigger problem that has taken hold of
our city.”
“Here. Here,” Crelon said with a nod.
Ah. They were tag teaming it tonight. “And just what do you think that is?” Brecker asked. He knew if he let them, they would dig at whatever the supposed problem was for hours, making it sound dire, when in fact it was usually anything but.
“There has been a rash of heinous crimes over the last eight months or so,” Astonblow said in a condescending tone. “And the problem has gotten worse and worse.”
Brecker blinked at him. “Crime is the realm of the police and the court house. It’s out of our jurisdiction.”
“But the problem,” he continued as if Brecker hadn’t spoken, “is that they have a very large target to aim at now. So if we get rid of the target, then the crimes against said target will go away.” He sounded proud of his illogical reasoning.
“Actually,” Morrow said with a frown, “history has shown that’s not the case. Just because you get rid of the target, doesn’t mean anything. People who are angry and want to commit crimes will just find someone else to aim at. And Brecker’s right. We’re the town council, not the police.”
“But it’s our fault in the first place,” Astonblow went on, a little more angrily. “If we hadn’t done this, the crime wouldn’t have followed. It’s up to us to fix our mistake.”
Silence filled the room and Brecker glanced from Crelon, who looked like the cat who ate the cream, to Astonblow. What were they getting at? “Just what did we do that has upped crime?” He winced as Bennet asked the question that would invariably start the real argument Crelon was waiting for.
“We signed that gay youth center into existence.” Astonblow said the words with his nose in the air but Brecker knew exactly where they came from and he glared at Crelon.
“What the devil are you talking about?” he snapped. “Those kids don’t commit crimes in the community. They’re out at the shelter being kids. Learning. Playing. And learning to love life again.”
“I didn’t say they committed crimes,” Astonblow stated. “But crimes are being committed against them. It’s obvious to me that our community is just not ready for such a venture. Our good citizens are getting into trouble by trying to point this out. If we hadn’t passed it last June, then they wouldn’t have had to resort to such heinous acts to get rid of it.”
Brecker wasn’t sure what to say. That was the most illogical, insane thing he’d ever heard. “Let me get this straight. You’re blaming a center that only does good, for people breaking the law?”
“Peter Marshad’s a good man,” Crelon said and Brecker bristled. “He’s never done anything bad in his life. But that shelter took his daughter and turned her into a boy and he had to react. How could a good God-fearing man not? Now he’s in jail just for trying to make things right.”
Fury burned within him but Brecker forced himself to stay seated. “Peter Marshad’s a sorry excuse for a human being,” he said in a cold voice. “He kicked his son out of the house last June because he did not conform to his view of what his child should be. The court took his rights away because he and his wife are not suitable as parents. Then he shot Reverend Jonathon Neiland in cold blood.”
“Exactly,” Astonblow said, slamming his palm down on the table. “Look at the awful influence of that center. If you had not okayed it, he never would have had his parental rights taken away, and he never would have bought the gun that supposedly shot that… person.”
This was insanity. “I was there, Darrel. I saw Marshad shoot Jonathon. He was getting into his car. He was unarmed. Marshad shouted his name and shot him. It’s a miracle that he’s a bad shot and didn’t kill him.”
“And if the shelter didn’t exist,” Astonblow went on, ignoring reality for some twisted ideal Crelon must have put in his head. “Then Marshad never would have done that. He would be home with his wife rather than stuck in jail.”
“That’s insane,” Morrow exclaimed. “You’re blaming the victim.”
“We’re saying,” Crelon said smoothly, “that our town is not prepared to deal with a homosexual priest and his raucous house of perverted youth.”
“That’s enough,” Brecker said. He heard the danger tone in his voice. “Nobody in that house is a pervert. The adults are upstanding and some of the best people I’ve met. The kids are just kids. There’s nothing wrong with them.”
“You would say that,” Crelon said, “since you’re having an affair with one of them.”
“What?” The bellow from the other three, even Astonblow, made Brecker narrow his eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
With a twisted smile, Crelon leaned back in his chair. “You kissed one of them. And don’t deny it. My wife heard it from your very lips.”
Marilyn Crelon. That was the woman who overheard him on New Year’s Day. Drat.
“A kiss is not an affair,” Bennet said with a frown. “And they’re kids. So he gave one of them a kiss on the top of the head. Don’t we all do that?”
“Marilyn says there’s a lot more to it.” Crelon grinned. “Reverend Neiland turning you into a pervert too, Brecker?”
“If you say that one more time, we’re going to step outside,” Brecker said in cold fury. “The individual I kissed was Jonathon Neiland who is an adult. It was New Year’s Eve and midnight and it happened. One kiss. You’re acting like we had some torrid affair. If kissing is tawdry now, the whole world is going to hell.”
“Are you gay now?” Morrow asked, sounding confused.
“No. I’m not gay.” He just didn’t know what he was. “But I’m also not ashamed of it. Jonathon is one of the best men I know. What’s going to happen now? I have no clue. It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t something I was forced into. And it was the best kiss I’ve ever had.
“What I don’t get,” he continued, ignoring Crelon’s attempts to interrupt him, “is why you’ve been against Jonathon’s shelter from the beginning, Todd. They take homeless youth off the streets who don’t fit in at a regular youth shelter and give them a home. A home, Todd. Not just a stopping off place for a night and food every once in a while. They have a home. A home with a bed that’s their own, and people who love and care for them. A home where they’re accepted as they are and where they don’t have to hide. A home,” he emphasized, “where they smile and laugh and live and learn to become good citizens.”
“A home for perverts,” Crelon snapped.
“Enough,” Bennet snapped back. “Your anti-gay agenda is getting really old, Todd. I used to not know much about it, but because you’ve been so against it, I’ve done some studying. Did you know that LGBT youth are more likely to commit suicide than non-LGBT youth? Because their parents treat them like you act. As if there’s something wrong with them. I don’t know if they’re born that way or if they choose it. But I don’t think that matters in this instance. They are who they are and if Reverend Neiland can help some of them, I’m all for it.”
“Yes,” Morrow agreed with a sharp nod of his head. “Enough, Todd. We’re not closing the center. You want to blame it for Marshad’s actions? That’s the most illogical argument I’ve ever heard. It’s the same reasoning that says a girl was raped because she wore tight pants or that it was a woman’s fault she was robbed because she carried her handbag on her shoulder. It’s bull. And you know it. My younger sister had to go through that when she was in her twenties and I’m not going to add to someone else’s problems by turning my back when I can help. So get this right now. There are three of us in favor of the center. It’s staying open. Discussion over.”
The tension in the room was at an all-time high, but before Crelon could respond, the door opened and a few people wandered in.
“This isn’t over,” Crelon said in a low tone.
“Yes, it is,” Bennet said.
Brecker sighed and turned toward their audience. Time to move on to something else. Crelon needed to find another drum to beat. This one was old, tired, and completely illogical. He would not allow him t
o hurt those kids or Jonathon.
“Welcome. Feel free to come forward if you have something you think needs to be brought to our attention.”
It was the same old complaints and before the night was over, the headache he’d expected pounded lightly against the back of his skull. When the last citizen left, Crelon didn’t wait for him to close the meeting. He left the room. Astonblow waited for Brecker to officially end the meeting, but then he left.
“Be prepared, Brecker,” Morrow said as they stood up. “Todd won’t let this lie. His wife’s one of the worst gossips there is. If she knows, then every woman she knows knows. You’re the top subject of gossip no doubt. You should probably make an announcement or something in the realm of hiding nothing. Undermine their spite before it gets too firm a hold.”
“Problem is, there’s nothing really to announce,” he said in frustration. “So I kissed a guy. What’s the problem? It doesn’t change who I am. I’m still me.” That brought him up short. Why had that not occurred to him before? He was still him. Whether or not he cared for Jonathon as more than a friend, he was still Court Brecker. It didn’t change him at all.
“It’s perception. You know that,” Bennet said as they walked out of the room. “Todd’s ticked off at you. And the people he’s gathered in his corner are anti-gay to the nth degree. They’re going to go after you with knives, Brecker. Anything they can twist into something gross or disgusting, they’ll use it. It won’t matter if it’s the truth or a bald face lie they have to then say ‘We didn’t mean that.’ Once it’s out in the public, it’s impossible to disprove.”
That was the absolute truth of it. The masses were too willing to believe anything they heard that was even in the slightest fear-based or gossip worthy. He needed to let Jonathon know this might come back on him. That angered him. Jonathon should not have to pay for Crelon’s short sighted, closed minded thoughts. But he knew if Crelon was going to attack him, he would go after Jonathon too.
“Home,” he told Gavin as he slid into the back of his car. Before the door was closed, he had his phone out. At first, he was set to call Jonathon, but considering everything, he decided to call someone who, like him, wanted to protect Jonathon at all costs.