Parking on the kerb right in front of the house, I can’t help but feel like something is missing. Lake should be here for this. He’s the one that started it.
I’ll just have to finish it for him and make sure that Riley is set up and comfortable before Lake gets home. Show Lake that he can rely on me for all things.
Riley has all his things packed up, though he still looks like he thinks I’m going to bolt at the first scare and leave him behind.
“This everything?” I grunt, looking at the one bag and backpack. Kid travels light. He won’t once Lake is done shopping for him.
“What were you expecting?” Riley replies in a surly tone. “A couple of suitcases and a piano?”
“Do you play the piano?” I reply sarcastically. Before he can touch it, I pick up his bag. It’s unsurprisingly light. Christ, no wonder he thinks the world is out to get him; it certainly hasn’t treated him right. I’m sure his parents hadn’t wanted this for him, hadn’t ever imagined their child being treated like this. I’ll make sure he never is again, that the life they would have given him is honoured. He should have been loved and cared for from the start.
He slumps once in the car, tense. Still waiting for me to tell him to get out.
Sure enough, halfway into the car ride, he says, “Why are you doing this?”
“Everyone deserves a chance.”
“That’s a cop-out answer.”
He’s not wrong. “Lake grew up with two loving parents. The open way they show love made him into the incredible man he is now. I was raised by my father, who was everything a parent should be. He never made me feel like I was missing out by not having a mother. You never got that.”
“So what?” Riley says defensively. “I’m somehow defective?”
“No, I think you’re incredibly resilient.” The nearest shopping centre is twenty minutes from here, so I head in that direction. “You deserve better than the start you had, and we can give you that. It’s not more complicated than that.”
“I’m a screwup.”
He’s digging deep to throw reasons at me, thinking that I’ll pick one and run with it. Use it as an excuse to bail.
“You’re a good kid who’s made some incredibly stupid decisions. It doesn’t have to continue that way if you don’t want it to.” Stopping at a set of red lights, I turn to him. “We can give you a stable home and opportunities. It’s up to you what you do with them. You want to continue on the path you’re on? The point where you are now you can blame on the system, on what you’ve been through and the lack of adult support. Where you go from here? That’s on you.”
He doesn’t respond to that, but I know I’ve given him something to think about. We can only do so much for him, help him so far. The rest has to be on him.
He frowns when I pull into the parking lot. “What are we doing here?”
“I need to pick up a few things. You’re not staying in the car.”
“Worried I’ll steal something?” he shoots at me, scrambling out and slamming the door shut.
“No, because I’m getting you a few new clothes. But hey, if you want me to pick them out for you, you’re welcome to stay here.”
His face scrunches up. “Don’t do me any favours.”
I tap the top of the car. “Let’s get something straight. This isn’t a favour. Nothing we do after this point is afavour. You don’t owe us anything, and we aren’t keeping score. You’re now under our care, and we’re responsible for you. That means feeding you, clothing you, putting a roof over your head, and helping you make better decisions.”
His lips flatten, and a muscle in his jaw twitches. It’s less anger and more overwhelming emotion that he doesn’t know what to do with. I can relate to that. Before Lake, I was a master at keeping emotions inside, not letting them out or letting myself feel them. He needs time and a safe environment to help him thrive.
“Where is Lake?” he asks as we head inside.
“He’s been deployed; he should be back soon.” I hope. Having no timeline is a particular kind of torture.
“Oh.”
“You’re stuck with me for now.”
“Great.”
In the end, we get him a couple of outfits, a few jackets, a new phone—after an argument that I’m sure made everyone think we’ve been father and son for forever—and a few PlayStation games for the console Lake already has at home. He’ll need a laptop for school, and other things for his room, but I know that Lake wanted to do this for him. Now he has enough to get him through until my soldier returns.
