“Call me Mr. S.”
“Mr. S?” Alex said.
“And call me Mrs. S,” my mom agreed.
That’s good. Nothing wrong with those names.
“Then what are you gonna call me?” Alex asked.
“How about ‘Alex’?” my mother suggested, to which Alex nodded.
The kid pressed his body against Mark and gripped his arms. The kid seemed uncomfortable and I just wanted to take him out of the room and let him play in the bedroom where he could be happy and secure... but I shouldn’t have worried. Mark had it under control.
“Hey, Val?” Alex asked.
“It’s Miss Val to you.”
“Hey Missval... uh... I wish we can find another bedroom, so you could stay forever.”
“I’m sorry that can’t happen,” Val said.
We chatted easily after that. My father was, oddly, the most talkative and my mother was more observant. Alex took to my dad very easily. “Do you want to play baseball?” my dad asked.
“I love baseball,” Alex answered, having been fully brainwashed by my partner over the preceding summer.
“I have a glove and balls in the car. And bats. Maybe we can play together before we leave?”
Alex laughed nervously. Mark’s voice was calm, but commanding, “I think that will be fun. But maybe next time? Alex has a lot of exploring to do in his bedroom. So much new stuff.”
“Yeah, lots of stuff,” Alex agreed. “But I think, maybe tomorrow we can all go out and play in the grass and Miss Val can make us lemonade.”
“Miss Val won’t be makin’ no lemonade,” Val quipped. “I won’t be visiting that often, child.”
“But...” Alex gave her his weepiest eyes. “But I don’t want to be here. I want to be with you. Why can’t we be with you? You can sleep on the couch.” Alex pointed to the couch. “Chris will sleep on the couch! Just like at your house.”
Alex cried when he realized that the adults would not cave to his grand plan.
“Hey, bud,” Mark said. “Let’s go cool off for a minute.” The two of them held hands and walked down the hallway to the bedroom. I hovered behind them but then Mark waved me back as if to say ‘I got this’.
I felt nervous. And useless. Maybe that was the worst feeling in the world—standing there and feeling like the situation was out of my control. I sat in a chair near Valerie and we chatted. My legs were jumpy and I kept expecting to hear Alex cry, but he didn’t. Did I want him to cry? Did I want him to need me more than Mark? Why was Mark always the one to get the ‘big conversations’ and I was just ‘Mr. Mom’?
My two guys reentered the living room. I could see Alex’s hair over the back of the couch—he was walking on his own, slightly ahead of Mark. The kid rounded the couch while taking exaggerated steps—like he was walking the plank. He moved slowly at first, then my mom saw him and he scampered across the room and grabbed my legs. He lifted his arms and said he wanted up.
So he sat in my lap. “I love you,” he whispered in my ear with that too loud voice that rattled my eardrums. I didn’t even notice my heart melting.
“I love you, too,” I said while holding him tightly and kissing the top of his head. His body was turned so that he faced away from my parents. Mark was coaching Alex on what to do. I had no doubt that he had also instructed the little guy to whisper that ‘I love you’.
And it worked.
My mood improved drastically and I felt needed again.
I was such a sucker.
“Thank you for moving my bedroom stuff,” he said to the ottoman.
“You’re welcome,” my mother said. “Did you see your surprise?”
“My surprise?!” He glanced at her briefly, then looked at Mark, then at my shoulder.
I nibbled on my mom’s plan and asked, “What’s the surprise?”
“Why don’t I show Alex? It’s just for him. Can I show you?” She was on the edge of the couch. Alex squirmed in my lap—he was really too big to be cuddling like that, but he’d been through a lot in his few years on this planet... and if sitting on my lap or holding hands or needing extra kisses would make him feel safer... shit, I’d do it as long as he needed me to.
I nudged him closer to the edge of my lap. “She won’t bite,” I said gently. “Will you, Mrs. S? You’ve never bitten a child before, have you?”
“I eat children for breakfast!” my mother declared, like a lunatic.
Oh heaven help me, she’s gone bonkers.
Alex laughed. “You don’t eat children,” he said. He let go of my shirt and I could see the wheels turning in his head. “What’s the surprise?”
“You’ll have to come and see. Can you take me to your bedroom?”
He sat firmly lodged on my lap. Mark was neither nodding nor frowning nor smiling. “Do you want me to go with you?” I whispered.
In response, he hopped out of my lap, walked over to my mother and grabbed her outstretched hand—like he had done it a million times before.
“My bedroom is big,” he informed her.
“And green,” my mother said.
“Yep.” He led her down the hallway. Mark took the spot on the couch next to my father.
“That went well,” my dad said. “Good job, Mark.”
I was flabbergasted. “I can’t believe he went with Mom... I bet he’s scared right now.”
“Leave him be,” my dad counseled. “He’s fine.”
I don’t know. I’ve known him longer than you. He’s probably upset. She’s a stranger.
I fidgeted as we waited. Mark and my dad talked. Val made a few observations and said she was going to leave soon.
“I’m going to check on them,” I declared.
“Your mother loves kids. They’re doing fine.”
“I’m just going to make sure.” I treaded down the hall on silent feet and eased my way into the doorframe to watch my mom play with Alex. She had my old building blocks—the yellow handmade pieces of wood about an inch wide and cut in various lengths. My grandpa and I used to build towering skyscrapers with those blocks and long lines of dominos that would stretch across my grandparents’ dining room floor and into the kitchen.
“I can’t believe you kept these.”
“Chris!” Alex said. His head turned so fast I was afraid his neck would snap. “Mrs. S said they used to be yours. Just like the books.”
“That’s right. Where did you keep all this stuff?” It was honestly amazing she kept this after we moved houses. “All my books and my bookshelf. And grandpa’s blocks.”
“I have his bigger blocks, too,” she pointed to the wall where my grandpa’s army duffel bag sat, stuffed with more yellow handmade building blocks—just as my grandpa had stored them during my childhood.
“Wow,” I marveled. “I used to play with these for hours.”
“Look, Chris,” Alex said. “We’re building a domino train.”
He was doing it completely wrong, but I wasn’t about to criticize the kid. I shared a look with my mother. “Looks good,” I lied. Then I walked in and sat down. “Let’s open up the other bag. We can build something through this whole room.”
“Yeah!”
“Now that’s going to be a big mess,” my mom said.
Mark spoke from behind me, “Gloria will pick it up.”
“Who’s Gloria?” Alex asked seriously.
I scowled. As if my kid is going to leave messes for a maid to pick up! Hell no!
Mark sat on the floor beside me and gave me a kiss. “Just kidding,” he mumbled near my ear.
“But you weren’t,” I said.
He laughed.
How am I partnered to such a lazy, entitled man? I know how my life is going to be from now on... now I’m gonna have two messy guys to clean up after. Jeez, what has my life become?
Valerie joined us in the bedroom. “How’s everything going in here?”
“Miss Val! Look at my new bedroom!”
“It’s very green,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“Looks like everything is nice and settled,” Val said. “I’m gonna be going in a minute.”
Alex looked up at her from the floor, but said nothing. Then he looked down at the ground, thinking things through. Then he leapt to his feet, knocked over half the dominos and ran to Val, grabbing her hand and drawing her out of the bedroom.
I listened intently as they spoke in the hallway.
The two of them walked into the master bedroom.
“See,” Alex said. “There’s plenty of room in here. See how big the bed is?”
Val’s voice was a murmur.
“But I know Chris will let you stay. He’ll do anything for me.”
Her voice was once again low and private.
“But I want you to stay. Why can’t you just stay? Just for tonight. Pleeease?”
Val laughed. “And then tomorrow night, and the next night and the next?”
“Yeah!”
My mother tapped me on the arm and pointed to the dominoes. She started stacking them so they were in a train. It helped take my mind off the little guy so I built him a row of dominos he could knock over. Val and Alex left the bedroom area and walked to the front door.
“You got this?” I asked my mom.
“Go do your thing,” she said, waving me away.
Mark and I walked into the kitchen. We said our goodbyes to Val. Alex refused to say goodbye and hid behind either my legs or Mark’s. The kid pouted like he was a professional crier.
I hugged Val and tried to imprint how much we owed her for making this transition possible, and making it happen within three months. Then Mark hugged her. We tried to get Alex to give her a hug, but he was being difficult.
“I’ll stop by after you’ve settled in, how’s that?”
“Sounds good,” I said. Mark was down on one knee trying to coax Alex into doing the right thing, but to no avail. The kid crossed his arms, ducked his head and refused to even look in Val’s direction, even when she bent over and kissed him on the head.
“Have fun, boys,” she said as the door closed behind her. Then we were alone.
Alex started crying immediately and put up a fight.
“Why didn’t you tell her you love her?” Mark asked. “It’s important. You know she loves you, too.”
He whined and turned away from Mark.
“Hey buddy,” I offered. “It’s not too late. I bet Miss Val is still in the hallway waiting for the elevator. You can still tell her you love her, and give her a big hug...”
He made another noise, responding in the negative.
“Come on,” I encouraged. “I’ll wait for you in the hallway. You can still run to her.” I gripped Alex’s hand and nearly dragged him out of the apartment. Miss Val was waiting for an elevator. I waved to her, but her back was to us. “Wave,” I said to Alex.
“She can’t see us,” he whispered shyly.
“You can give her a big hug, if you want.”
The elevator door opened and Val stepped into it.
“Missval!” Alex yelled. He ran out of my reach and stutter-stepped his way to the elevator. Val held the door. I walked down the hall after them, watching them hug—a real one this time. Then she pushed him in my direction, held the door and waved goodbye.
“Come visit us anytime,” I whispered in Alex’s ear.
“Come visit us anytime!” Alex shrieked, nearly blowing out my left eardrum.
“I’ll see you soon, boys.”
Then the door shut, and with it, our life with Valerie was over and our new life had officially begun. I praised Alex for saying goodbye to our friend Miss Val. Alex babbled about how much he loved Miss Val and how he was sure she would stop by and play baseball, even though she said she liked football better. “But we don’t like football,” Alex said smartly.
“No,” I murmured. “We don’t.” As if I’m going to watch you bash your brains out! Heck no!
Alex held my hand and pulled ahead like our arms were a leash. He giggled and was in a good mood.
We made it back to the apartment and Mark and my parents were chatting in the kitchen. “Hey guys,” Mark said. “How’re we doing?”
I nodded once. Alex ran to Mark and started babbling about inconsequential things.
“Why don’t we go knock over the dominos,” my mom suggested. “Then you and Chris can set them up again. He used to love playing with his blocks.”
“Yeah!”
Alex ran ahead of us and into the bedroom, scattering a few blocks.
“Wait,” my mom called. “Let me show you how to do it!” She scampered into the bedroom ahead of us. My dad, Mark and I watched her reset the train and explain what they were going to do. Alex didn’t understand, but when he pressed over that first block and watched the train knock over, blooming before him like a flower, he said ‘wow’ and looked up at me with wonder. “Wow,” he repeated. “Let’s do it again!” Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room. “Come on,” he grunted. “Let’s do it even bigger!”
“You three have fun,” my mom said. “Mr. S and I are heading out, too.”
Alex whipped his head at the door, looking stricken. “No,” he wailed. “You have to set this up with us.” He pouted. “Mrs. S, will you please, please stay and help.”
My mom was such a sucker. She got on her knees and helped us get the next train started. “Chris was always much better at doing this than me,” my mom said. “Just follow what he says.”
“But I want you to stay,” Alex whispered. “Please stay. Let’s look at my other stuff.”
“No,” my mom said carefully. “Mr. S and I have to get home.”
And so we went through another goodbye that Alex was loath to take part in. It was easy to understand why he didn’t want Miss Val to leave—Alex had lived with her for three months and the four of us were his family unit. Alex, me, Mark and Miss Val.
But why was he suddenly so attached to my mother? I couldn’t say. The kid had been terrified of her less than an hour ago.
We were at the door and ready to send off my parents.
“Come on, Alex, say goodbye to my mom,” I encouraged, dropping my voice so only he could hear.
“I’ll see you soon,” my mom said, kneeling beside me and Alex. The kid took off for the bedrooms and wouldn’t come out no matter how hard Mark tried.
I hugged my parents and explained how Alex had been through a lot and how he sometimes had strange reactions like this. My mother understood. I think my father might actually have had tears in his eyes because he looked away from me before I could make sure.
“See you guys soon,” I promised.
“Of course. Come visit anytime, I’d love to get to know Alex. He’s so cute.” My mother was glowing.
“We’re gonna take it easy for a few days. Get used to our new living environment...” ...without Miss Val.
“I can take a hint,” my mother lied. “I’ll leave you boys alone, but I want an update every day. Don’t forget to send pictures.”
Good Lord, woman!
I walked them to the elevator and we hugged again. The door dinged and they were gone. The drama was over. We’d survived.
I sighed deeply.
It’s just us here. Me, Mark, Alex. What have we gotten into?
The walk back to our apartment was a quick moment of weakness for me. Everything had been full-steam-ahead for the past few months and I hadn’t taken a moment to relax or assess the changes. We have a kid. Mark and I were responsible for someone who could not take care of himself.
Mark had asked me, over the years, if I would ever consider having kids since I liked being an uncle to Mark’s nieces and nephews. I always said ‘no’. Some days I’d wake up and want them really bad, but over fifty percent of the time I’d have a negative reaction. There was a part of my heart that wanted to be a father, no doubt about it, but the timing was never right. I certainly didn’t want to have a biological kid, like Mark seemed to want. And we w
ere young (ish) so it felt like I could put off such a big decision for a few more years... or forever. Or maybe a dog would do the trick, like with some of our friends.
What the hell am I doing with a kid? Did I even think this through? Is this the best place for him? We insisted for so long, and now he’s finally here. But did we make the right decision? Had we pushed too hard? Maybe Alex would be in a better place right now if we’d let the foster care system do its normal thing...
That was a ridiculous line of thinking. We were at the start of the opioid epidemic in America, which would very quickly overwhelm the foster care system. Even back then, resources were scarce, good families were overbooked, and I knew in my heart that Alex would have been shuffled from family to family.
The kid did have his issues—who wouldn’t after experiencing what he lived through? He was especially sensitive about people leaving and he often needed either me or Mark in the same room as him. He’d gotten better over the past two months, but our move-in was stressful and it wasn’t surprising that Alex cracked. That’s why I didn’t want my parents there (or anyone else) on that first day.
I walked to the bedroom where Mark was reading a book with Alex. I watched them from the door until Mark looked up and smiled. I smiled back and continued to watch.
The rest of the day wasn’t the cakewalk it should have been.
First, Alex didn’t want to touch anything. We had to continually remind him that this was his stuff to play with, but he didn’t want to touch it. I built him a new domino train, but he wasn’t interested. He didn’t even help me clean up, which was unusual.
Mark asked if he wanted to pick out another book, but he didn’t. No, he didn’t want to stay in his room. No, he didn’t want to go outside and throw the baseball. No, he didn’t want to go for a walk. No, he wasn’t hungry.
It was distressing to see our little guy like that.
Finally, it was bathtime—a tradition that started within a week of us meeting Alex.
Alex would start the water. Mark would make sure the temperature was right. Alex would stick his hand in the tub and say it was ‘perfect’. Mark would grab him under the armpits and swing him into the water so that his legs splashed. Alex would laugh freely.
The Foster Dad Page 2