He sighs and states, “Yeah, I know, brother, just wishful thinking, I guess.”
“Okay, let’s get these dressers where the women wanted them so they can put up the clothes and shit,” I instruct.
This is where Marnie and I had our first true disagreement as a couple. I wanted to go nuts and buy everything I saw, but Marnie told me we needed to wait. She feels that it’ll overwhelm Becca, and it would be better for her in the long run. I finally conceded that she was right after I stopped and thought about it. She made a lot of sense when she reminded me that we didn’t know her personality, so buying a bunch of toys, and even clothes, could backfire on us if she preferred other things besides what we had bought.
So, besides the little bookshelf, desk, and futon underneath the loft bed, we have a teddy bear currently sitting on her pillow, waiting for her arrival, with age-appropriate books based on what Holly suggested, since Becca’s in the same class as Mina. We also got her a tablet that has educational games on them because her caseworker said she was still getting caught up with her classmates in some areas. Hopefully, it’ll make her feel welcome because from what Mrs. Jackson told us, she’s had a tumultuous few years.
Once we’re done inspecting the room and setup, we leave and head downstairs where our two ol’ ladies are cooking up a storm. Becca will be here after school lets out, and despite not wanting a lot of fanfare so we don’t scare her, Marnie and I want her to see that she’s now got a large family at her back, one that won’t starve her and will give her all the attention she should’ve been getting all along from her family.
“I’m kind of nervous,” Marnie whispers as we sit in the common room waiting for Becca and her caseworker to arrive. Thankfully, Rebel told the club girls it was ‘family only’ so they’re not lounging around and giving the wrong impression of us and how we operate.
In fact, since we’ll have Becca here for the foreseeable future until our house is finished being built, they’ve been banished until after nine at night, and have to be gone before seven in the morning. It was the best compromise we could come up with considering the fact that most of the men here are single and need a stress-reliever from time to time.
“It’s going to be fine, sweetheart,” I reply, trying to reassure her.
“What if she doesn’t like us?” She persists with her questions just as the door opens and Mrs. Jackson walks in, followed by the tiniest little pixie I’ve ever seen. Behind them are Colt and Preston, our two prospects. Colt is wheeling in a large suitcase, while Preston has two boxes in his arms.
Before I can answer her, Mrs. Jackson reaches us and holds out her hand. “Mr. Stanton, how are you today?” she asks.
“Ash, please,” I reply. “We’re doing fine. Colt, Preston, can y’all take that up to Becca’s room, please?” They nod in response, so I return my focus to the little girl who’s staring up at Mrs. Jackson, a mixture of hope and fear on her face.
Crouching down, I reach out my hand and say, “Hey, I’m Ash, your uncle, and this is Marnie, my ol’ lady. You must be Becca. I’m so very happy to meet you.”
She shyly smiles and waves, saying, “Hi,” in a voice that’s so soft, I have to strain to hear her.
“Hi, sweetheart. You look just like your daddy did when he was a little boy,” I reply.
Her eyes go wide as she asks, “Really? I… I don’t remember them too good anymore.”
“Well, I remember him, although I don’t know if I ever met your mommy, so I’ll share all the stories I have about your dad, okay?” I query. “Do you remember Marnie?” I ask, reintroducing her since I think it got brushed over. “She’s my ol’ lady.”
“What’s an ol’ lady?” she asks, looking at Marnie, who’s now crouched down next to me.
“It means she’s my wife in the motorcycle club world,” I reply. “Although, I plan to marry her as well at some point.” I hear the gasp from Marnie and smirk when she looks at me, her eyes huge, like a cartoon character.
Marnie opens her mouth to say something, except it’s drowned out by Mina, who all but screams, “Becca! You’re here!”
I help Marnie up and we watch, along with Mrs. Jackson and the brothers, as the two little girls hug each other while jumping up and down, excitedly chattering their little hearts out. “Well, I think she’s going to settle in just fine,” Mrs. Jackson murmurs with a smile plastered on her face. “Let me give you this information and documentation then I’ll get out of your hair, so she understands that this is her new home.” She hands me a file folder and at my raised brow, she quickly explains that it holds Becca’s vital information, such as her social security card, her birth certificate, and also her vaccination record.
“Thank you,” Marnie says, taking the file from my hands. “Do you know if she’s ever been to a dentist? If not, I’ll get that set up right away. Also, has she had her yearly checkup at the doctor?”
Mrs. Jackson genuinely smiles at Marnie’s questions. “You’ll do just fine. She had a complete physical when she first came into care because of the circumstances. The pediatrician had several recommendations in order to get her to optimal health, and Mrs. Talbot has been following them to a T. In fact, there’s a letter in there from Pauline detailing what she’s done. I think she has a dental appointment set up, and the information should be notated in there as well. I’m sure you can understand that Pauline was prioritizing her health first, because she was a very sick little girl when we were made aware of the situation.”
I can’t help the growl that escapes at her words; my sister has a lot to answer for someday. I may no longer follow the edicts set forth in the religion my family was enamored with, but even I can recall how the congregation was told, over and over, that children were our future. While I believe that myself, the rest of their rhetoric was plain old bullshit, which is one of the reasons I walked away.
“I’ll be sure to read through it and adjust my schedule accordingly, so she goes to that appointment. Thank you again, Mrs. Jackson, for everything,” Marnie says. “Would you like to see the room we created for her?”
“Well, I mean,” Mrs. Jackson starts, obviously flustered, “this isn’t like a normal foster situation. The two of you are now her legal guardians based on the judge's decree, so I don’t actually have to do any kind of household inspections.” Then she leans in and whispers, “But I’d love to see it because I know you called Pauline so you could get an idea of her likes.”
“Then while the girls are celebrating, how about we take you up and show you?” I ask. Glancing at Holly, I ask, “Can you keep an eye on her for a few minutes?” Holly nods as Ruby joins the two giggling girls while Marnie and I lead Mrs. Jackson upstairs.
After she looks around the room, she turns to us, and I can see her eyes are wet and red-rimmed. “This is… she’s going to feel so secure here. What you’ve created in such a short amount of time is wonderful. I just know she’s going to have the best life ever.”
“We’re going to do everything in our power to make that a reality. I’m so glad she had someone like Mrs. Talbot taking care of her until we found out about her existence,” I admit. “Not gonna lie, my heart hurts for what she went through because of heraunt.” I can’t help the venom that escapes; I truly don’t understand why anyone would hurt a child, let alone one who they’re biologically related to.
“I suspect you’ll succeed marvelously. Now, if you opt to adopt her, please reach out to me. Because she was in the system, we have the connections to make that a painless process,” she advises.
“We likely will because she needs to know she’s a part of our family, especially if we choose to adopt other children down the line,” I tell her, Marnie pressed to my side. “We’ve got a lot of love to give.”
