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“You’re preaching to the fucking choir on that one, Pops. I know it from experience. But if there isn’t any proof to prove that fact, then there ain’t shit I can do.”
“He’s a junkie,” he states.
“Yeah, that doesn’t mean shit. I lived my life with a junkie, and no one ever did shit about it. Maybe when you were around, but after you left? Someone should have taken notice, and no one did. It’s like a waste of fucking time and taxpayer’s money to protect the fucking innocent children of drug abusers. I’m not holding my breath.”
“But the kids are in your care now. Why would they change that?”
“Because the bio parents have the rights until the courts or whoever the fuck thinks that their rights need to be severed.”
“Then you need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Looking around, I lower my voice. “And how the fuck do you suppose I should do that? Maybe I should shove enough smack up his arm so that he’d OD? Or maybe take his ass and drop him somewhere in the desert and hope to shit that he drops dead? Oh wait, maybe I should shove a shank into his belly and let him bleed out.”
“I don’t know, son, but I can’t lose those kids. They are the only thing that I have left of your sister, and I’ll be damned if I lose them like I lost her. Those kids will be on a one-way ticket to following in their parent’s footsteps if he’s granted custody.”
“And you don’t think I know that? I’ve already thought about running, but that ain’t the life that I want for those kids. I’m not about to ask Jenni to do that. Knowing her, she’d agree but be miserable the entire time. She’s given those kids and me more than she realizes, and I’ll be damned if I ask her to do more.”
“What did the case worker suggest?”
“She wasn’t happy about the fact that we knew he’d been sniffing around and didn’t tell her, but she doesn’t trust him and wants those kids far away from him. She wants them to stay with us.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Yeah, we’re gonna start the adoption process. This shit ain’t cheap, either. It’s gonna cost a pretty penny, but I’m not complaining. I’d pay whatever the fuck I’d need to in order to keep them under my roof.”
“Do whatever you need to do to make sure you get those kids, and he doesn’t get his hand on them.”
“I am.”
“Did the worker give you any suggestions on what you can do to make it happen?”
“Other than getting hitched, no.”
“Fuck, son. That might be a good idea.”
“Yeah, well, you aren’t the first person to think so.”
“Uncle Tylan?” I look up to see Ryder standing at the door of the shop. Hands in his pockets, kicking the ground with his shoe.
“Yeah, kid? What’s up?” I ask before wiping my face with a shop rag, tossing it on a pile of greasy rags.
“Nothing. Just seeing what you’re doing.”
I know this kid, and I know that he wants to talk, but he doesn’t know how to ask. “How’s school going?” I break the ice by asking a question that’s easy.
His eyes dart around the shop. “It’s good.”
“Do you want a soda?” I ask as I walk to the fridge. He nods, so I grab him a soda and a beer for me. “Let’s go grab some wood. I need a break.” I point over to the bench just outside the shop on the back-loading area so he knows what I’m talking about.
Twisting off the lid of my beer, I look over at Ryder and see him eyeing me. I push the beer towards him. “You want a sip?”
His body jolts back, and he shakes his head. “That stuff is gross.”
I chuckle before I take a sip. “Yeah, well those probably aren’t always going to be your thoughts. And when the time comes that they do change, make sure your ass asks me for a taste. Don’t think you and your friends are old enough or cool enough to get the shit on your own. If you ain’t twenty-one, then you won’t be old enough.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever want it,” he says before he takes a sip of his soda.
I take a quick glance at him. “So how are you really doing?”
