Fire and Flint

by Andrew Grey

  “With the social worker, I know,” Jeremiah said, scrunching his nose. “She always smells like old lady.”

  “Donald has said that he’ll be there this time,” Pierre said, turning to Jordan. “He said he wants to be on hand just in case.”

  “Pulling out all the big guns?” Jordan asked.

  “I’d line up everyone I thought would help if it meant calling in every favor I’ve ever done. This means the world to you, I know that, and I want this too.” Pierre didn’t want to say this for the first time in front of someone else, but it needed to be said. “I want to be part of your family because I love both of you.” He tugged Jordan closer, kissing his check. “I mean it.”

  “Pierre,” Jordan murmured as his cheeks reddened. He was so adorable when he blushed. Pierre loved him more because it said that Jordan believed him. “Not here.”

  “Sure. I’d stand up in front of everyone and tell them that you’re my boyfriend and that I love you if it meant that you’d accept and trust that I’m telling the truth. Which I am.” He smiled, and Jordan tucked his head lower. Pierre held him a little tighter. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

  “I’m not.” Jordan straightened up and finally ate his lunch. Pierre hoped that meant he felt better. It wasn’t lost on him that Jordan didn’t express his feeling back. He hoped Jordan would when he was ready, but it wasn’t an immediate requirement.

  Robert’s phone dinged, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “I need to leave in a few minutes. Please drop those files by the house as soon as you can so I can review them and draft the complaint to the board. I’ll send you a copy once I have it and will make sure it gets submitted and that the board members actually see it Monday morning.” He ate his last bites of lunch and then stood, reaching for his wallet.

  “No. I’ll get lunch,” Pierre said, but Robert shook his head.

  “No illusion of impropriety.” He gave Billy the money and followed him to the register to get a receipt, then left the restaurant.

  Pierre ate the rest of his lunch quickly. Jeremiah was already done, and Jordan had managed to finish his salad. Pierre cut off a piece of his beef and passed it over for Jordan, trying to coax him to eat it. Thankfully it seemed Jordan’s appetite had returned.

  “I’m so full,” Jeremiah said with a grin.

  “Me too,” Pierre echoed, gathering up the papers into the folder. He caught Billy’s eye for the check and paid it. “I hate to rush, but I have to get copies made of all this so Robert has time to look at everything. I’ll see you back at the house.” He kissed Jordan quickly, loving the taste of his lips. He wanted to follow him right home, maybe see about having Jeremiah visit his grandmother for a while so he could make sure Jordan stayed relaxed. “I’ll be back to the condo just as soon as I can. I promise, then we’ll find something fun to do.”

  “Go-carts?” Jeremiah asked without hesitation.

  “We’ll see,” Jordan told him, squeezing Pierre’s hand, then releasing it so Pierre could go.

  Chapter 8

  JORDAN TOOK Jeremiah home and did his best not to worry. Pierre messaged to say that things were taking a little longer than he’d planned, but that he’d be there in an hour. Jordan tried to put the impending hearing out of his head so he could enjoy his time with Jeremiah. Nothing was going to make his nerves go away until he got a ruling from the judge that Jeremiah was truly his and the adoption order had been signed.

  “Do we have to stay inside?” Jeremiah asked, kneeling on the chair, peering out the front window. “I’m bored.” That was a new one.

  “You are, huh?” Jordan teased, lifting Jeremiah into his arms, twirling him around. “Well, we can’t have that.” He tickled him to the floor to peals of laughter. “Pierre will be here soon, and then we’ll go out.”

  Jeremiah stopped wriggling and sat up. “I heard him today. He said that he loved us. Does that mean that he loves me like you do?”

  “I think it does.” That was the best answer he had. Jordan was still trying to figure that out. He hadn’t been expecting the declaration. Not that it surprised him in a huge way. It was nice to hear, and he’d known his feelings for Pierre had been growing deeper by the day. He trusted him, and that was saying a lot.

  “Do you love Pierre? I know you kiss him and he kisses you.” Jeremiah giggled. “Doesn’t that mean you love him?” He blinked as though he were really trying to figure things out.

  “I think I do, but things aren’t that simple. I have to think about you, and I want you to be happy.” They were getting into things that Jeremiah wanted a simple answer to, but Jordan didn’t have one.

  “You don’t know?” Jeremiah asked. He shook his head, tsking softly. “Silly Daddy.” He stood up, patting Jordan on the shoulder as though he were the kid. “It’s easy. Just think about it. I asked Grammy how you know if you love someone, and she said if you think of them before yourself.” Jeremiah blinked. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “And I love you.” Jordan hugged Jeremiah, knowing he’d always think of him first, above everyone else. “Do you really like Pierre?”

  “Yes. He tells good stories and he plays with me. He’s also funny and takes us to fun places, and he never gets mad at me.” Jeremiah’s expression grew dark.

  “Who gets mad at you?” Jordan asked. He thought this was another of those reactions that came from Jeremiah’s years before he was safe. “I always try not to. We talk about things.”

  Jeremiah nodded and the expression lifted. “I think you and Pierre should get married, and then I’ll have two daddies and I’ll always be safe.” He made it sound like having a second dad was like a safety net. Maybe that was true, given how Jeremiah’s life had been.

  “Am I not enough?” Jordan teased again, going for Jeremiah’s belly. “I bet I am.”

  “Daddy!” he squealed, then rolled away, hurried to his feet, and rushed to the window. “Pierre is here.” He bounced up and down. Jordan went to open the door, and Jeremiah threw himself at Pierre. “Can we ride go-carts now?”

  “It’s going to rain, really hard, so they aren’t going to be running tonight. I thought we could go to the movies if you wanted. Is there anything you want to see?”

  “Minions?” Jeremiah asked.

  “Let me see what’s playing,” Pierre said, pulling out his phone. “We can see Despicable Me 3 or Cars 3. Which one do you want to see?”

  Jeremiah put his finger to his lips, thinking dramatically. “Ummm, Cars. I wanna see Cars.” He raced around the room, making engine sounds.

  “Is that okay? I’ll get us tickets. There’s a show in an hour, and afterward we can stop at the store and then I can cook you dinner.”

  “That sounds nice.” Jordan moved into his embrace. “Jeremiah, go to your room and get ready to go. We’re going to have to leave in ten minutes.” Jordan closed his eyes, letting Pierre’s heat and strength surround him. “I’m sorry for being such a downer. I didn’t think it would be like this.”

  Pierre sighed softly. “I wish I could guarantee that everything was going to be okay, but I can’t. All I can do is help you put everything in motion and ensure you have the best defenses possible.”

  “I know. I called my lawyer, and he didn’t seem too concerned. He seems to think that a space opened up in the judge’s calendar and that he’s moved things up in order to finalize things. But I’m not buying it. He did say that everything is in order and that all the reports have been stellar, and that anything to the contrary better have ironclad proof or he was going to rip it apart.” Jordan tried to sound confident, but he knew he failed. “But there is so much that could go wrong.”

  “No, there really isn’t. You have so much going for you. Everyone can see that you love Jeremiah so very much and are a terrific father to him.” Pierre drew his gaze upward. “I wish you believed in yourself as much as I believe in you.” He leaned closer and kissed him hard. Jordan clung to Pierre, needing his strength right now, and he gave him everything he could want. So why cou
ldn’t he say the words that he knew he felt?

  “So do I.” He turned to Pierre, care and heat shining in his eyes. Pierre loved him, and Jordan loved him back. The words were right there, but he couldn’t say them, not quite yet.

  “I’m all ready to go,” Jeremiah declared as he hurried out of his room. “Can we leave now?”

  Jordan didn’t want to get out of Pierre’s arms. He liked it here. No one could hurt him if he was just like this. Everything was going to be fine and would work out as long as Pierre was holding him. “Yes. Let me get my wallet and phone, and we can go.” Reluctantly he pulled away.

  “You know, there are probably going to be a lot of kids there, and maybe some of his friends,” Pierre said.

  Jordan nodded. That was more than likely.

  “If that works out, maybe you and I can sit in back and make out.”

  Jordan doubted that was going to be the case. Somehow, he didn’t think a theater full of screaming kids was going to be romantic. But once they arrived and sat down, Jordan was surprised to find the theater mostly empty, and they sat with Jeremiah next to him, holding his popcorn as though it were precious to him, eating it one piece at a time. Pierre had gotten the two of them popcorn to share, and they munched throughout the movie, Pierre’s arm cradling him. Jordan leaned on Pierre, getting comfortable, while simply enjoying the fact that he was here with both of them. He couldn’t get over the idea that he needed to make the most of the time they had together because something could be just around the corner.

  SUNDAY WAS quiet. Jordan and Pierre took Jeremiah to the park, and he played on the swings and monkey bars until he was wiped out. Pierre exhausted him in a very different way, letting him forget his nerves for a few hours as he took him to paradise, at least for a little while.

  Monday morning, Jordan debated what he should do. Pierre told him he should call in and take a vacation day to be out of the line of fire once Judge Crawford found out what was happening. Jordan thought the opposite. It might be good to have someone in the office to keep an eye on things. Not that he was going to be good for anything, but he went in anyway, performing his usual tasks and taking care that Judge Crawford had what he needed for the day.

  “I need some time this afternoon,” he told Judge Crawford as he handed him his papers. “I have a hearing for Jeremiah’s adoption.” Jordan had decided to go with the explanation his lawyer gave him. “It appears that some time opened up in his schedule. The hearing is at two. Is that okay?” He did his best to meet Judge Crawford’s gaze. Now that he knew so much more about the man he worked for, it was hard not to see the coldhearted man behind the desk.

  “Of course,” Judge Crawford said offhandedly. Jordan wondered if he already knew of the hearing and had been waiting for him to ask.

  “You have what you need to start the day. If you need anything else, I can get it for you before I leave, if that’s all right.”

  “Certainly.” The judge smiled, and Jordan tried to read something into it, but couldn’t. It appeared genuine enough, but now he wasn’t sure if he was up to something or not. It stood to reason that if he were, he wouldn’t want Jordan to know about it until he was ready for him to know. This whole situation sucked, and he wished he and his family’s future could get out of the middle of it.

  Pierre came to the courthouse just before lunch and took him out. Donald met them, and together they did their best to reassure him, but the near-crippling anxiety wouldn’t leave. His family, his son, was at stake. He ate very little, the food souring in his stomach.

  “Please. Try to relax and let yourself think,” Pierre said.

  “I feel like a condemned man going to his last meal or something.” Jordan sighed. God, he was being so dramatic.

  Donald seemed to understand. “You’re upset because Jeremiah has come to mean so much to you. That’s a good thing. It means you love him, and we never want to lose the ones we love. I’m here, so is Pierre and your mother, and the lawyer will help make sure you walk out of court with Jeremiah.”

  Jordan did his best to eat and hoped like hell the food didn’t make a second appearance. Finally they returned to the courthouse, where they met his mother and Jeremiah.

  “Can I go inside with you this time?” Jeremiah asked.

  “No. You’ll sit with me,” Donald explained. “I have some things for you to color. Hopefully it won’t take too long.” Donald turned to Jordan. “Just send Pierre to me if I’m needed and I’ll come right in.”

  They took Jeremiah to one of the conference rooms, and Jordan knelt down to pull him into a hug. “No matter what, I love you very much and I always will.” He squeezed him, needing to hold him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  Jordan held him tight, then released him and stood back up, reluctant to leave, but he knew he had to.

  Pierre ushered him out of the room and took him aside. “I can’t comfort you the way I want to because I’m in uniform, but I want you to know that I’m here for you and that I meant what I said before. I love and adore you, Jordan, and I love Jeremiah.” He caressed Jordan’s cheek, a wave of heat and strength running through him. Jordan stood straighter and drew courage from Pierre. “I know you can get through this and take it to the finish line.”

  Jordan took Pierre’s hand in his. “I love you too.” His hands shook, he was so nervous. Just like that, what was truly important became crystal clear. He wanted the same family as Jeremiah and Pierre. Now it was up to them to make it happen.

  “Let’s go.” Pierre squeezed his hand and then released it to pull open the door to the courtroom and hold it open for him. Jordan walked down front and sat where he had the last time he’d been there. Pierre followed him and took the chair next to him.

  Jordan’s lawyer, Vincent Murray, joined them a few minutes later. “I just checked, and our case is next. The clerk said it should be just a few minutes.” He put his briefcase on the table and opened it, getting his things together.

  Quinton Davis from Child Services entered, and Jordan tensed. He walked right over, smiling. “Good afternoon,” he said brightly, shaking Jordan’s hand. Then he sat down.

  Judge Taylor entered, and the court was called to order. They stood and then sat again when Judge Taylor indicated. “I called this hearing to do a final review of this case before Jeremiah’s adoption is finalized.”

  Vincent stood. “Your Honor, we were under the impression that all reports were completed. The Child Services reports have been glowing, and all indications are that Jordan will make an amazing dad for Jeremiah.”

  Quinton stood as well. “I’ve made surprise visits as Your Honor requested and found the home to be impeccably clean and well cared for. Jeremiah seems extremely happy, and from everything I’ve seen, Jordan is an almost doting parent who cares for him without doubt.” He half sat and then stood once again. “I want to add that I wish all of the homes I visit were like his. It’s my personal opinion that Jeremiah will thrive in Jordan’s care. I wish all of the adoptions we handle would turn out as well as I’m sure this one will.” He sat back down.

  Jordan had to stifle a smile. He hadn’t expected so glowing a report.

  “Yes, I appreciate your report. But, Mr. Davis, is it not true that recently reports have been called into your office regarding Mr. Erichsohn’s treatment of Jeremiah?” Judge Taylor consulted some paperwork in front of him, and Jordan stifled a cringe.

  “Yes. We received those reports, and they were determined to be in error. We verified that Jeremiah was not left alone as was reported, and in fact, both Jeremiah and Jordan were in the company of Deputy Pierre Ravelle during the time the reported incidents were alleged to have occurred. He is here as well and can verify those facts.” Quinton sat down, and Judge Taylor turned to Pierre, who stood.

  “I was at Jordan’s home when Mr. Davis investigated those reports, and I can verify that there is no basis to them. Jordan is a loving and caring parent.�
� Pierre didn’t turn to him, but looked straight at the judge.

  “And what is your relationship to Mr. Erichsohn?” Judge Taylor asked.

  “He and I began dating in the last few weeks. So technically he’s my boyfriend.” Pierre smiled and glanced at him, a glint in his eye. “I have spent a lot of time with both Jeremiah and Jordan, and there is no sign whatsoever of mistreatment of any kind.” Pierre remained standing, as did Vincent.

  Jordan wrung his hands under the table, trying to dispel some of his nervous energy. He knew they were getting to the heart of the matter now, to why this hearing was called.

  Judge Taylor sat still, looking out at all of them. “I see.” He seemed rather confused and doubt crept into his eyes. Jordan wasn’t sure what the source of it was. “The reports that I received regarding this matter come from what I would consider a reliable source and someone Mr. Erichsohn works closely with.” He didn’t name Judge Crawford, but he might as well have. Jordan sighed and remained silent.

  “We know nothing of this,” Quinton stammered. “All our investigations turned up a clean, well-managed household filled with care and affection, even during and after the complaints were registered.” He was clearly flustered, as was Vincent, who turned to him. Jordan shrugged.

  “Your Honor…,” Jordan said, and was recognized.

  “Your Honor,” Pierre interjected, shooting Jordan a look. “I believe I know who your source of information might be, and that source may not be as unimpeachable as you might think. May I approach the bench?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a set of vertically folded papers. “I have something Your Honor might wish to see.”

  The bailiff approached, took the papers, and passed them to Judge Taylor. In the end, Pierre stayed where he was.

  “What am I looking at?”