There were more teachers out there helping disperse the children.
I wanted to go forward, but Mark made me stay under the tree where we had stopped to chat with the other parents. “I told him we’d be here.”
Why didn’t I think of that? I normally think of these things. I’m losing my touch.
Perhaps I was juggling too many things and had slipped up on this meeting point arrangement. Well, that’s what you have a spouse for, to pick up the slack.
Alex saw us right away and waved. His green helped him stand out in the crowd, which looked to be about a quarter darker skin, based on my rough estimation. Alex should fit right in.
We waded through the mass of yelling children and tearfully reunited parents. Okay, so Mark was the only one with tears on his cheeks, but I’m not allowed to make fun of him for it.
“How did you like your first day of school?” I was grinning from ear-to-ear before even asking the question.
“It was fun!”
“Tell us all about it,” Mark begged.
And so he did. We stopped for a quick picture in front of the school sign before leaving for the Metra station.
“...and I didn’t get my locker today like you said, but I’m gonna get one tomorrow.” Alex nodded to himself. “And we have papers we need to fill out together for homework.”
“Any reading assignments?” I asked.
He thought about it, pursed his lips, then shook his head and said, “Noooo.” He grabbed Mark’s hand as we walked. “Nothing like that. Nobody said much about reading.”
“No? What did they talk about?”
“Well... they didn’t talk much about science either. We had to talk about phones and rules in school.”
“Was it a little boring?” Mark asked.
“No. It was fun. We laughed a lot.”
“Did you have a nice lunch?”
“Yes. We had assigned seats and we weren’t allowed to change, but I wasn’t worried because I only know three kids and we sat together.”
“Three new friends?”
“Ummmm... I don’t think they’re friends because I don't know them. But I sat next to them all day and they're nice.” He shrugged.
“Do these kids have names?” I asked.
“Ummm. Yes. But I can’t remember them right now. One was named Garrett.”
“Garrett?” Garrett didn’t last too long in Alex’s circle of friends.
“Yeah. He bought his lunch and I shared my snack with him. He was hungry.”
“It’s good that you shared,” Mark said. “That’s how you make friends.”
“Yeah.” Alex sighed. “Are we going to get ice cream now?”
“We will after the train ride,” Mark promised. “Don’t you want to talk about school?”
“Um. Not right now. I really like some ice cream right now please.” When we didn’t answer immediately, he turned the screws. “Chris promised ice cream.”
“Let’s just hop on the train first,” I said. “We’ll have to get some passes so we can just zoom in like this. Isn’t this fun?”
“Yeah. I like the train.”
We made our way to the station and boarded a train, which wasn’t crowded with commuters at that time of day.
“So you made some friends and got some homework. I’d say that’s a good day,” I said.
“Yeah,” Mark added. “Tomorrow you’ll have to remember the names of your friends. Not just Garrett, but he sounds like a nice guy.”
“Otay.”
Mark was standing and holding onto the rail in front of us as Alex and I sat on the bench. The kid seemed to be exhausted by all the events from the day.
“One of my friend’s name is Adam Johnson.”
“Adam Johnson?”
“Yeah. I told him today my name was Alex Sullivan, because I wanted to be good at reading and writing. But sometimes my name can be Alex Wolff like when I have to stand up in front of class and I’m scared.” He shrugged. “Adam Johnson just has one name.”
Mark and I exchanged meaningful glances. Perhaps I had taken the ‘Alex Sullivan’ and ‘Alex Wolff’ thing too far. But it was times like that when it rolled so naturally off his tongue that I knew we made the right choice. I just felt it in the core of my being. Alex could confidently label when he felt like ‘Alex Sullivan’ and when he needed to be ‘Alex Wolff’.
I couldn’t have been prouder.
Mark and I talked about it that night and he started sniffling like a wimp. I had to tease him about toughening up, but when he threw it back in my face and told me I’d been close to tears as well, I backed off.
He can be so nasty when he puts his mind to it.
THE NEXT DAY, MARK left for work early because he had missed so much time the day before. In the future we would come to an arrangement where Mark would take Alex to school while I would get an early start on the job so I could pick him up in the afternoon. On the days where that didn’t work out, I would take Alex by subway and my mom would pick him up, usually by car.
I took Alex to school the next day. Mark woke him up before leaving for work, then I went in half an hour later and made sure he was actually getting up. He picked out his own outfit that day without Mark’s influence (Mark often pretended Alex was a lifesize doll).
I fed him breakfast, made his lunch and we were on our way. The Metra ride was uneventful.
The kid was excited for another day at ‘Mark’s school’.
“It’s so beautiful,” he said as we walked up the street and the school came into view. “Isn’t it beautiful, Chris?”
“It is.”
We walked past the mass of parents dropping off their kids. There was honking and vicious parking. It was loud.
“Wow, this is a zoo,” Alex said dramatically. “Sweet Cheesus!”
“Hey. Those are adult words. You’ll get in trouble if you say them in school. You know that, right?”
He lowered his head. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not mad. Just don’t say it in front of your teachers.” I gave him a hug and a kiss. “Have fun in school today.”
“I will.”
“Mrs. S will be picking you up. You want to go to her house after or chill in our apartment?”
“Will you be there?”
“No. It’ll be you and Mrs. S until I get off work. Mark is working late tonight.”
“Why does Mark have to work late tonight?”
I sighed. “He’ll be home to tuck you in for bed.” I pulled his head to me and kissed him on the cheek. Then I checked his backpack to make sure all the paperwork was in the folder.
“You checked it on the train,” Alex complained. “Did we forget something?”
“No. Nothing. Everything is in order. Go on. School is waiting. I’ll miss you.” Oops. That last thing wasn’t supposed to come out.
He gave me a hug and a sequence of kisses on my cheek. “Mark says we’re not supposed to say that,” he whispered loudly in my ear.
“I know,” I whispered back. “Don’t tell on me.”
“I won’t.” He pulled away and stared at the sidewalk. “I’ll miss you, too.”
Not gonna cry. Not gonna cry!
He turned his back on me, hefted his over-sized pack onto his thin shoulders and climbed the stairs to his school with a pep in his step.
I slowly strolled back to the Metra station feeling a sadness in my heart. The vision of him with his fuzzy head turned away from me as he bravely started another day of school just about did me in. There were tears on my cheeks when I got off at my stop.
I don’t know why I teased Mark about being a tough guy. Just because I didn’t show it so openly didn’t mean I wasn’t just as soft as him.
Ice Cream
IF SHE WANTED TO, VALERIE probably could have stayed out of our lives completely. She didn’t have to return my calls and I didn’t have to make the effort to call her. Technically, she wasn’t even Alex’s social worker, but the other lady was only
nominally interested in us and had been hand-picked by Miss Val to help us through the process.
Valerie still maintained the most contact of anyone in that office.
So one fine afternoon in late summer, the three of us guys arranged a rendezvous to catch up with her. We let Alex choose the venue, so of course we went for ice cream (as we did every time we met up with Miss Val).
Valerie sat at our table and professed she didn’t want any cold desserts despite the oppressive humidity. She normally ate an entire sundae by herself so I didn’t really believe her, but she sat with her head turned away and fanned herself.
Fine then.
The three of us waited in line. Alex kept talking about all the flavors of ice cream and how he didn’t know which one he was going to get. There was a man in line behind us that Alex couldn’t stop staring at. I made eye contact with the stranger and nodded in a friendly sort of way. Alex looked up at him almost wondrously while hovering near my leg like he was terrified, but couldn’t help himself from watching the stranger.
“I’m getting the mint sorbet,” I said. “Mark, what are you getting?”
“I’m thinkin’ turtle sundae.”
“K. What about you, bud?”
“I don’t know...” Alex said, his voice trailing away. He tore his gaze away from the stranger. “What are the flavors on that side?”
“That’s sorbet. You don’t like sorbet.”
“No, no, no. What are the flavors on that side?”
Kid. You don’t like sorbet. We’ve been through this before.
We made it up to the window and I ordered my mint sorbet in a cup. Mark ordered his sundae.
“What do you want, buddy?”
The girl behind the counter leaned forward so she could see Alex. The kid stuttered and lowered his head in shame. I ran my fingers through his hair.
“What kind of treat do you want?” I asked again.
“I think... I think... what are the flavors on that side?” His little voice barely traveled up to the counter.
The girl listed the sorbet options—most of which were made with seasonal fruit—and Alex pulled on my hand after she pointed to the violently green one.
“You sure?” I pulled him to me while keeping my fingers in his hair. I whispered, “You like ice cream better.”
“I’m sure.”
I turned away from the kid. “And one lime sorbet.”
My mint came out first. I asked for a second spoon so Alex could try some. He puckered his lips like he didn’t enjoy it, then went in for another scoop. His lime sorbet came out and he was not happy at all.
“I wanted mine in a cup,” he complained.
“You didn’t say you wanted a cup. You love ice cream cones.”
“Yeah... but I wanted mine in a cup.” He stared at me as I enjoyed another spoonful of mine.
I requested an empty cup and handed it to Alex. “Let’s sit at the table and you can put your ice cream in the cup.”
We left Mark waiting for his sundae and took our seats around Miss Val. Alex set his empty cup on the table, then balanced the cone inside without tipping it. He giggled to himself and tried to mimic me by eating the sorbet with a spoon, but he knocked his cone over.
“Just eat it regular,” I said.
Alex didn’t like the lime, which was not a surprise. He just wanted to play with his food. The only fruit sorbet I ever really liked was when they used fresh peaches. Now that was good. And strawberry. My mom always went crazy for banana. Mint was a good enough approximation of mint ice cream.
Alex never liked any of the sorbet flavors. No matter how many times I tried to tell him to just get regular ice cream, he wouldn’t do it. I explained to him once that I only ate the sorbet because my stomach couldn’t handle all the lactose in regular ice cream, but I might as well have been explaining string theory for all the good it did.
Alex continued to play with his food as we chatted with Miss Val.
Then Mark showed up with his turtle sundae, which was huge.
Alex gasped. His entire face turned into one giant grin and he climbed onto his chair so he could lean on the table.
“Someone’s excited,” I commented. “Too bad there’s only one spoon. That sundae’s all for Mark.”
“You have a spoon!” Alex said excitedly.
“Where’s your spoon?”
It had fallen to the ground while Alex was playing with his food.
“That’s nasty, bud. Leave it and we’ll pick it up later.”
“But, but, but... I need a spoon.”
“Do you?” I teased.
Alex stared at the dessert in the middle of the table. “Mart... can I, can I, can I... um... have the spoon?”
Mark whipped out two extra spoons from behind his back like he was Houdini. Alex hopped on his chair and tried to clap his hands, but he couldn’t maintain his balance.
“One spoon for Miss Val,” Mark said. “One spoon for Mark. And one spoon for Alex.”
“And no spoons for Chris!” Alex shrieked. Then he attacked the ice cream and made theatrical ‘mmmm’ sounds of contentment.
“You like that?” Mark asked.
“Mmmmmmm.”
“Make sure to leave some for Miss Val.”
“Mart,” Alex said with a rather bossy tone. “Miss Val has plenty of ice cream at home.” And with that, he returned to attacking the ice cream.
She’s going to think we’re raising a monster. No manners! He’s a wild child!
Miss Val stuck her spoon in the sundae and dueled with Alex for the peanuts. They laughed. I stuck my spoon into the fray and found a scoop of hot fudge.
“Chris,” Alex lectured. “You can’t have ice cream. It hurts your tummy.”
“That’s true,” I said, lowering my head in mock shame. There’s nothing like being scolded by a child. I told Stacy this story a week or so after it happened and she gave me some sage advice. If a woman tells you you’re ugly, she’s feeling threatened by you. If a man tells you you’re ugly, he’s trying to lower your self-esteem so he can get you in bed. If a kid tells you you’re ugly, you’re ugly.
In much the same way, if a kid tells you shouldn’t forget about your lactose issues, you should listen.
MISS VAL LOVED THAT kid. Honestly, it’s as simple as that.
When Child Services came to get Alex several weeks later, she showed up to do the dirty work. Val never would’ve willingly hurt the kid, if she had control over such things.
Valerie was part of a bureaucracy. She obeyed her superiors and protocol, even when it sometimes seemed counterproductive. I hold no grudge against her for her part in the drama that was to come.
Now that I can look at all this with hindsight, I’m beginning to understand how much pain Valerie had to suffer through on a regular basis. At the time, my personal pain shrunk my world until all that mattered was, well, nothing. Alex was taken from me and there was nothing in my world that seemed big enough to fill that hole.
Valerie had such a big heart. In a lot of ways, I saw myself reflected in the way she lived her life, which is probably the silliest thing I’ve written in this entire self-portrait. Me? How could I feel a kinship to a black woman nearly a decade older than me and who had lived an urban life that was almost the polar opposite of my own experience?
I think we both loved with open hearts and without preconceived notions of what that meant. I’ve told Mark many times that I can be ‘in love’ with multiple people in different ways and at the same time. Mark is too stubborn to accept that for himself, but I think Valerie would’ve known exactly what I meant.
She loves the children who come into her care, even as she tries to keep them at arm’s length for her own sanity. She also loves the dedicated foster parents that she interviews. It was during one of our ice cream rendezvouses where she told me how heartbroken she was after Alex had been initially placed with a bad fit. Val had counted on that family many times in the past and her soul was crushed by their f
ailure and their lack of communication. Apparently, social workers are used to shuffling kids around until they find a good fit—and doing this was not a strike against any foster family. It was the lack of communication that stung the most.
After she told me that little nugget, I made sure to place a higher priority on our ice cream gatherings so she could see for herself how Alex was responding to living with me and Mark. But like with so many other things in my life, I shouldn’t have bothered because it was unnecessary. We were never on Val’s shit list.
I QUIETLY FINISHED Alex’s lime sorbet while my guys went to the bathroom. Valerie was in a pleasant, talkative mood.
“Thanks for visiting with us,” I said. “Alex misses you.”
“I miss him, too.”
“You can host a sleepover if you want...”
She laughed. “That’s for younger folks. I won’t intrude on your arrangement.”
“He’s doing good.” I studied the kids running in the park and playing frisbee. “He’s getting a tad bossy, though. Mark spoils him rotten.”
“You boys seem happy,” she said. “I’m glad it worked out.”
“It wouldn’t have happened without you. You’re our honorary godmother.”
“I ain’t no fairy godmother,” she snapped. “I ain’t no Mary Poppins, neither. I’m Miss Val.”
I smiled. She went back to fanning herself.
Valerie had no news for us that day, either good or bad. Some days she’d have updates about how the search for Alex’s father was going, but it had been over a month since anything meaningful turned up. Alex’s mother was unfit to take care of a child and, at any rate, didn’t want him. Her family, such that it was, had declined to accept the kid. For all we knew, Mark and I could’ve been stuck in limbo with Alex for months, or years... or forever.
My mind couldn’t reconcile that much uncertainty. It was a cloud on the horizon that seemed to stretch in all directions, but never got any closer. In some ways, it wasn’t much different than all my other anxieties, which somehow made it easier to bear. It was both new and yet familiar.
“Val,” I asked quietly. “What happens when they find the father?” We had been over this during the course of several private meetings so I already knew the process. “I mean... how will we find out? It won’t be at the ice cream stand.”
The Foster Dad Page 20