“Yeah. Thank you, Skylar. I mean it. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
With her free hand, she patted my arm, giving me a soft smile. “It’s no problem. Have you considered putting her in daycare? Or I could take her with me to the shop if you don’t mind her sharing the attention with Ryder?”
I shook my head with a grimace. “Can’t. Jasper won’t allow it. She’s either with him or me, but he won’t let strangers watch her. He won’t even let the crew meet her yet. He doesn’t want anyone anywhere near her.”
Pressing her lips together, she gave me a sad smile. “I guess I can’t blame him for that. Not after losing his moms. Maybe you can bring him to our house, let him see Isla with the other babies. If its just me and Butch and not a bunch of the crew, it might make him more comfortable letting her stay with us.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I doubted it, but I wouldn’t say that out loud. She was only trying to help.
Skylar helped me get Isla into her carseat, pulling the shade down so she wouldn’t be blinded by the sun on our way home. Thank fuck, this was my last job for the day. I had about an hour until Jasper got home and the stress multiplied all over again.
“Deep breaths, Zero. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re doing great. You’ll figure it out.”
I thanked her again and made sure she got into her truck safely before dropping into the driver’s seat of my cage and letting out a heavy breath. Maybe I needed to call the social worker. Skylar seemed sure I’d get it eventually, but shit couldn’t keep going like this. I felt like I was screwing the kids up, and the longer they were with me, the worse they both got. Maybe being split up was better because at least whoever they landed with would have a better idea of how to handle kids than I did.
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out, tension spiking when I saw the name on the screen. Speak of the devil.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Fletcher,” Rachel Clark, the social worker, said cheerfully. “I’m just checking in. How are things going?”
My mouth opened to tell her it was fine, but I hesitated. It wasn’t fine. Jasper was still pissed, he was failing his classes and getting into fights, Isla barely slept and screamed unless she was with her brother. No one on the planet would say that shit was fine.
“Mr. Fletcher?”
“Yeah, sorry… I’m going to be honest with you, it’s a lot harder than I expected.”
CHAPTER TEN
ZERO
I waited for the judgment, or maybe for her to suggest giving up guardianship. She surprised me when she chuckled.
“That’s completely normal. I promise you, you’re not the only guardian to feel that way. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Blowing out a breath, I dropped into the driver’s seat of the car, cranking up the A/C so Isla wouldn’t get hot while we talked. I didn’t head home, I didn't feel comfortable driving while talking on the phone and I was pretty sure Jasper would kill me if he ever found out. Instead, I moved the car only far enough to be parked under the shade of the tree so Isla wouldn’t get hot.
“Well, for one thing, I’m pretty sure Isla hates me.”
That made the social worker laugh. “Babies don’t know how to hate, Mr. Fletcher. Tell me more.”
I explained Isla’s constant crying, throwing things like food and my tools, waking up all night long. The social worker didn’t sound surprised or even worried. She hummed and listened quietly, and when I finally stopped long enough to speak, she asked, “Have you taken her to see a pediatrician?”
“No… Should I? She doesn’t feel hot or anything, and she doesn’t look sick. How do I know when she’s supposed to be brought in?”
“Relax, Mr. Fletcher,” she soothed. “I’m not saying something is wrong. But with her age, it doesn’t hurt to check. Until a child is old enough to tell you what’s wrong, it’s always better to err on the side of caution and seek a medical professional first. Honestly, this sounds like normal behavior for a baby after such an upheaval, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Nodding, I made a mental note to call Mel. She could get us in to see a doctor right away, or meet us in the ER or something. There were perks to being friends with a nurse.
“What about Jasper? How’s he doing?”
“You mean other than hiding in his room, refusing to do his homework, and glaring at me every second of the day? His math teacher mentioned he was holding back, pretending he doesn’t understand the material. I don’t even know what to do with that. I was no good at school shit when I was a kid. I didn’t have to pretend I didn’t understand.”
She let out a long sigh and again I braced myself for her to tell me I was failing. It felt like I was. I hadn’t had a day since the kids showed up that I felt like I was doing something right.
“Unfortunately, that’s common for kids his age after loss. Grief is a powerful thing, and for someone going through hormone changes on top of it, it’s incredibly difficult for him to express what’s going on. Have you considered my therapy suggestion?”
“Yeah. We start on Friday. Jasper’s pissed about it. He told me twice already that he’s not going to talk.”
