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The Foster Dad Page 5
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“Right. What did you get for me, Mel?” he asked politely.
“It's a gift. I'm sure you and Chris will love it. It's all about computers and learning how to put together puzzles.”
“Sounds like fun,” I said with genuine enthusiasm.
“Sounds like fun,” Alex echoed, sticking his head out of the sheets and studying the box of games.
“This is more complicated than anything I understand,” Melanie said, sounding as sad as possible. “But I bet Alex could figure it out in a few minutes and explain it to me.”
“You think I could?”
“I'm sure you could.” She smiled at him and he cautiously crawled out of bed to look at it. He wiped his face and held the box in his hands. “Wow,” he said. “Look at this, Chris.”
“Want me to open it?”
“Yes, please.”
We opened the box of puzzles and laid them out on his bedroom floor. “This does look too complicated for Mel,” I said. “This looks like a Suhail-present to me.”
“So what if it was?” Mel shot back. “I’m pulling in the brownie points.”
I grinned at her over Alex’s head. “You already have more brownie points than you know what to do with. We love you so much, don’t we, Alex?”
“Yep. I love you, Mel.”
“Love you too, little guy.”
“I’m not the little guy,” Alex said with a delighted expression. “Chris is the little guy!”
“You don’t say,” Mel scoffed sarcastically, pretending as if she didn’t know this was a running joke Mark had started between the three of us.
“Yeah. When I grow up, I’m gonna be tall! Look at me now. Grrrr...”
“Cool it, tiger,” I said. “We don’t want to scare away our friends.”
“Mel isn’t going anywhere.” Alex popped up to his legs and jumped at Mel. He peppered her with kisses up and down the right side of her cheek. “I love you,” he said.
“Love you, too.” She kissed him on the side of his face.
He grinned, then giggled, then laughed in rapid succession so that it all blended together into a storm of happy emotion.
I loved how easy it was to get him to laugh. We had our bad days and rough moments, but they were becoming rarer and rarer as the weeks progressed. I loved seeing him settle into a nice rhythm with me and my partner. I just loved having him around—and having a kid. I think I was built to be a father. My heart was so soft that if I went to an adoption center, I’d probably try to take them all home with me. My dad was one of nine and Mark had four siblings.
One kid was a lot of work, but how much more would a second one be? I mean, Mark could just hire a nanny. I’d gotten him to reduce his monthly burn rate so we would have more savings later in life, but if it was for our family?
Spend it all.
Every last dollar.
MARK AND I SET UP AN appointment with my eye doctor later that week. Mark needed proof that Alex was actually blind, so he coerced the kid into doing another vision test. He was much better at getting Alex to do things he didn't want to.
Mark was the fun dad and he played that role to perfection. He made his vision test a game. If I tried to do something similar, Alex would’ve run to his room and started crying. Was I really putting that much pressure on him?
And yet, he got shy about some things that he wouldn’t talk to me about, but he opened his heart to Mark.
Grrr... I’m going to do something about that.
MARK AND I WALKED HIM into the optometrist office, swinging him between our arms. He laughed like crazy, which pumped up his energy.
“No more swinging,” I said.
Alex swung Mark’s arm and they laughed at each other. Then he swung my arm.
“We’ve got to calm down for the eye doctor.”
“I don’t wanna go,” he pouted while trying to swing my arm again.
“We’ll swing when we get done. And we’ll go to the park and get ice cream and play ball. We’ve got all day, but we need to be on our best behavior for the doctor.”
Alex sighed dramatically.
Mark sighed dramatically.
They made eye contact again and started giggling. “You sound just like Chris!” Alex said.
“No, you sound just like Chris,” Mark said.
“Nobody sounds like Chris. Let’s go in the office.” I tried to usher my pair of goofballs into the building.
“Chris sounds like Chris!” Alex yelled triumphantly.
I sighed dramatically.
My two guys sighed dramatically, making fun of me. They giggled as they walked through the door I held for them. I rolled my eyes at Mark, but he gave me a quick kiss to keep up my spirits.
“I really don’t think I have to go to the doctor,” Alex explained as we sat on the couch. The office had a couple baby toys, but nothing for a kid his age.
“Let’s read this magazine. Try to solve these puzzles...” I might as well have been talking to a wall.
“The essential thing is that we know the truth. Now we can go home.”
“Is that the essential thing?” Mark asked, indulging Alex while wiggling his eyebrows at me.
“Yes. Isn’t that right?” Alex asked me.
“The essential thing is that we’re going to see the doctor—”
“I DON’T WANNA SEE THE DOCTOR!”
Holy shit. Why is he yelling in public? He’s never done this before! Not like this!
The secretary looked at the three of us and the two people checking out the selection of glasses glanced towards us in embarrassment.
“Calm down, buddy,” Mark said soothingly. “There’s nothing to be—”
“I DON’T WANNA!” He crossed his arms and glared at the two of us. I was speechless. Mark still thought he could change the kid’s mind.
“No need to yell, big guy. We’re—”
Alex overrode my partner. “I WANNA GO HOME AND I DON’T WANNA—”
“Outside,” I growled. Alex stopped speaking immediately, looking at me with these big scared eyes that made me want to take it all back. “Outside,” I said again. “Open the door for me.”
And, surprisingly, Alex jumped off the couch, marched to the glass door, opened it and held it for me. I pointed him through the entrance and off to the side of the building near a bike rack.
“We don’t yell,” I said harshly. “Yelling doesn’t get us anything.”
“But... I don’t wanna be here,” he whined. He stomped his foot once.
“I can see that,” I said. “Is there anything else you want to say? We can talk like adults, or you can start yelling again and you’ll get treated like a baby. Do you want to talk, or scream?”
“Talk,” he pouted.
“Okay. Talk. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t wanna be here,” he pled.
“Do you know what you’re going to do in this building?”
“See the doctor...”
“You’re going to see a doctor for eyes. He’s going to make sure your eyes are healthy. And if you can see fine without glasses, then we’ll go home and throw a party. But if you need glasses, then we’ll still go home and throw a party.”
“A party?”
“Maybe we can read a book?”
“Harry Potter!”
Gah. Why did my mom bring those books? Now all Alex wants to read is Harry fucking Potter.
“Okay. We’ll read the first chapter of Harry Potter. But it’s not going to be easy. We’re gonna have to be patient with the doctor.”
“I’m very patient,” Alex promised—this coming from the kid who was just yelling at the top of his lungs.
“I know you are.” I rubbed the sides of his arms and smiled. “I’ll be with you the whole time today. Okay? I promise.”
He nodded.
“Do you want to hold hands?”
He nodded.
I offered my hand and we walked into the office together.
“Alex,” the secretar
y said. “Come on back.”
His little hand gripped mine so tightly as we walked back to the eye doctor. I asked if he wanted Mark to come with us, but Alex shook his head.
“Chris,” the optometrist said. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Laser corrective surgery.”
“Still holding up? Good, good. And who is this fine young man?”
Alex was shy—he always hated meeting new people and refused to make eye contact.
“This is Alex,” I offered. “We’re here to get our first eye exam.”
“Sure, sure. We’ll check out the peripherals first, then check for three-d depth perception. Do you know what any of that is?”
Alex gripped my hand, yet shook his head.
“Let me show you. We have this fun board that lights up like a game. Do you have a Playstation at home?”
“Chris won’t let us have a game like that,” Alex blurted, glancing quickly at the optometrist, then away.
“He won’t?”
Shit, kid. Why do you always tattle on me? Mark is lazy enough... he doesn’t need a Playstation in the house.
“Let me show you my game. I think you’re going to like it. Chris has done this numerous times. Haven’t you, Chris?”
“I have. Maybe I should sit down first and show him how it’s done?”
Alex smiled shyly.
I prodded Alex forward. “Let’s follow Dr. Stenco.”
“Call me Dr. Dave,” the optometrist corrected.
“Dr. Stenco?” Alex asked. “How can your name be Dr. Dave?”
“My last name is Stenco. Just like your last name is...” he slipped through the paperwork. “Sullivan.”
Alex Sullivan. It was on the paperwork. Holy shit. There was an official paper with Alex having my last name!
“That’s not my name,” Alex said with a giggle. “That’s Chris’ name. Like how Mark is Mark Wolff.”
“And what’s your name? Alex... what?” Dr. Stenco asked.
The kid looked shocked, terrified. He was asked this question so many times and in so many ways... it was a trigger for him and brought him back to the dark times. He looked at me, pleading with his eyes to hold him.
“It’s alright,” I said in a rush. “Dr. Dave. Why don’t we go on to the game?”
But Alex was gone. He looked stricken. I knelt beside him and he buried his head in my neck and started to sob. Dr. Stenco gave us some space.
“It’s okay,” I murmured. “You’re with me and Mark now. We love you very much.”
“Can my name be Alex Sullivan?” he asked while his head pointed away from my face so that I barely heard him.
“If you want to have my name, it’s yours. That’s what we’ll call you.”
He nodded and gripped me tighter. “But what about Mark?”
“What about him? Do you want to have his name, too?”
He stopped crying. “How do you do that?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to figure something out, won’t we? Maybe some days you can be Alex Sullivan, and some days you can be Alex Wolff.”
“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “Today I’m Alex Sullivan.”
I kissed him on the side of his face. “I love you very much,” I promised. “No matter your name, I will look out for you. Okay?”
He nodded again.
“Now, why don’t we play this game? I’ll show you how it works.”
“Doesn’t Dr. Dave have to do it?”
“I’ve done it enough times, I think I can explain how it works.”
I grinned at him and he grinned back. Oops, I just taught him to ignore authority figures. What am I doing!?
I got him laughing again in no time. The darkness passed. We left Alex alone to do the peripheral sight test and Dr. Stenco took the opportunity to ask what the fuss was about.
“He’s been through a lot,” I said simply. “He’s been asked that question a hundred times, but he doesn’t remember his last name.”
“What happened to him?” Stenco asked again.
“A lot,” I said, not intentionally trying to sound mysterious. I looked off into the distance. “More than any person should have to endure. We’re fostering him until things work themselves out.”
Stenco changed the eyes for Alex and walked back to my side. “You don’t know who his parents are?” he whispered.
I shook my head. “The mother was in the system, but the last anyone knows of her, she was in Las Vegas... working off the books.”
“Illegal?”
“No... in an unsavory line of work...” Just say the word, she’s a prostitute.
Dr. Stenco took the hint and returned to finish the exam. He ran through a three-dimensional eye sight test and Alex failed miserably. Then the optometrist walked us back to his exam room and Alex sat in his chair perfectly calm.
The kid was blind.
He had trouble reading the third line. By the time the visit was over, I knew his glasses were going to be super expensive. He needed a strong prescription plus he had an astigmatism in both eyes.
“You did so good,” I promised. “Let’s go find Mark.”
Mark was at the secretary’s counter, charming the panties off her. I scowled; he winked at me; the secretary had a giggling fit.
“Mark!” Alex said, running around the counter. “I get to pick out any kind of glasses I want!”
“Any kind!?” Mark asked enthusiastically.
“Yeah! Let’s go shopping!”
Shit. That’s not what I want Alex to pick up from Mark...
I asked the sales lady how much the thin-style lens were going to cost compared to the regular. She gave me the price difference and I nearly puked, but then I remembered that this was all going to help the kid. I bit the bullet and agreed to pay for the upgraded, lightweight lenses.
Alex wasn’t covered by our eye insurance, so that was another thing I’d have to work out in the future. The sales lady asked about our insurance and I told her a quick version of how Alex was a temporary foster and that our insurance didn’t extend to him.
She disappeared for a few minutes as we helped Alex try on different pairs of glasses. When she returned, she told me the new price was twenty-five percent less. I thanked her heartily.
“How do you think he looks?” Mark asked the sales lady.
“Very handsome,” she said.
Alex grinned. “How about this one?” the kid asked, giving her his best smile (which involved him closing his eyes).
“Those are good, too.”
“Which do you like best?” I asked him.
“I dunno!”
“We’ve got more to try on,” Mark said.
“We can’t be here all day.”
“You know nothing about fashion,” Mark said with a snooty, raised chin. He elbowed the kid.
“Yeah!” Alex agreed. “Fashion!”
The kid tried on another pair of glasses so I glared at Mark while Alex was distracted. You better stop turning him into a fashionista, my glare said.
Suck it, his returning smile answered.
We tried on all the options—literally every pair of glasses in that store.
Well, apparently not every pair, because the sales lady found a solid red plastic frame that we hadn’t tried.
“Yuck,” Alex said immediately.
“Where did you get those from?” Mark asked.
She pointed to a small rack on the back counter that was kind of hidden away. “Kids like the bold colors. I thought maybe it’s worth a shot. This is quite the picky customer.”
“Particular,” Mark explained.
“Yeah. Parkular.”
She set the red frames back on the rack and rotated it so we saw all the color options. There was a bold, LEGO-green pair that had been facing the wall and when I saw that pair, I knew we were doomed.
No kid of mine was going to be caught dead in something so green.
Unfortunately, Mark had also seen the green frames and he was grin
ning at Alex, who was making his excited face and kicking his feet back and forth under his chair.
Shit, we’re done.
Mark jumped from his chair and lifted Alex into his arms. Alex giggled and pointed where he wanted to go—like Mark was a horse. Mark walked him to the counter.
“Hmm... do I see anything here that looks good?”
“Green!” Alex said, reaching for the pair of glasses. He laughed. “Mark. Go closer!”
“Green?”
“Yeah!” His little fingers got closer.
Mark tiptoed closer and closer to the display.
“Closer!”
Mark pulled back. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s a better color?” They spun around and Alex laughed.
“I want the green ones. Chris said I can have any I wanted.”
“Green it is,” Mark agreed. He walked to the rack and Alex yanked the glasses from the display. Then he placed them on his head and didn’t want to take them off.
“I brought the red pair because you’re wearing a red shirt,” the lady said.
“You can’t pick green glasses,” I whined. “He won’t be able to wear red or orange. It won’t match with anything!”
“Green is my favorite color,” Alex informed the sales lady.
“You liked these thin black frames,” I tried.
“You don’t know anything about fashion,” Mark said again.
“Yeah,” Alex agreed. “Nothing about fashion.” He turned his head to the side and made a funny face in the mirror. Then the kid turned to Mark. “What do you think?”
“They’re perfect,” Mark assured him.
“Green is my favorite color,” Alex said again while looking at his reflection.
This is a horrible decision. I should probably buy a second pair... right? Just in case? I mean, I’d do anything for Alex. I’d never spend money like this on myself... but he's going to regret that green color. I just know he will!
HIS GLASSES CAME THREE days later. Mark had spent the intervening days commenting about how he was going to look good with his glasses, especially since they were so green.
“I don’t think we should have gone with the green,” I kept telling my partner in private.
“Shush,” he would say. “The kid is happy. Leave the fashion decisions to me.”
Fashion. As if.
We walked into the eye doctor’s office like we owned the place. Alex was bursting with energy and ran up to the secretary, who was the same lady we met a few days earlier.