Page 70 of Brother to Brother

She nodded, noting things down as we said them and it was Archer who said, “Never counted on falling in love with her for real, but I did. I’m glad I did, too. Noah needs a father and I want to be that guy,” he looked down at me and I raised myself up on tip toe to kiss him, a quick kiss that was heartfelt and not at all for show.

“This the last box?” he asked gruffly and I nodded. “Okay, Little Man! I gotta give you back to your mom, you ready to go?”

“Yah!” I took our son from Archer and he hefted the box.

“Go on, ladies, I’ll be right behind you.”

Ms. Washington followed me down to the car and spoke to me while I strapped Noah carefully into his car seat.

“Truthfully, I’m a little blown away,” she was saying, “I’ve never in my twenty-three years of social work, come across a case like this. Usually, I get a call like this and I come out expecting the worse and find it.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Archer said, shoving the last box into the back hatch area of my car and shutting it tight.

“I guess so! There is one thing, can you tell me about this emergency room visit back in –”

“Oh, you don’t have to look for the date, I rememberthatall too well,” I said darkly.

“Scared the hell out of her,” Archer said laughing.

“What happened?”

“I came through the door on my way home from work, just in time for Little Man to run smack into the strike plate on the bedroom door.”

“I was in the kitchen trying to get some dinner ready and Noah was just being a big ball of energy running around the apartment. I told him to stop, but he was being a willful little boy and sure enough, he tripped over his own feet and went head first into the door jamb.”

“We took him right to the emergency room, and he got two stitches. If he’s anything like Grind, there will be a lot more than that ahead of him just growing up.”

I groaned, “Please don’t even put that out there.”

“Eh, Grind was always active and doing stupid shi- ‘cuse me, stuff when we were growing up. Almost got bit by a diamond back when we were nine, the damn fool.”

“Right, well, I’ll follow you,” the social worker said and we both nodded. Archer rode, I drove, and Ms. Washington followed us in her much newer state vehicle over to our new home.

It was a two story, three bedroom with a large family room and a garage. It was painted a lovely shade of blue, bordering on lavender with white trim and a grey shingled roof. The front porch was broad and a wrap-around style without actually wrapping around, and the front lawn was so green, a large oak taking up a good sized chunk of it where Rush and Nox were busy stringing up an old tire.

“Oh my god, you guys, no!” I called out as I was getting out of the car and they both looked over grinning like they’d just been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“What!?” Rush called, “He ain’t gotta use it now, we just thought it’d add character to the place!”

“No!” I called back and they were laughing at me, their laughter dying when Ms. Washington came walking up the sidewalk. The twins exchanged a look. They knew social worker when they saw one.

Both of them came slinking over and Nox asked, “What’s the deal?”

“My parents,” I muttered darkly, “they called to let child services know I’m a drug addict and a horrible mother.”

The twins couldn’t help themselves, they started laughing, and I’m pretty sure Ms. Washington heard the whole thing.

She went on a tour of the house with me and Archer, noting things down, and nodding. She seemed impressed with the child proofing and Noah’s room which had been unbelievably kitted out thanks to Rush’s amazing wood working skills. Our house had a long way to go, but Rush had nearly thrown a fit when we said we were going to buy furniture, saying he’d much rather build it. The only thing he would hear of us buying furniture wise, was a couch, mattresses and lamps.

“You built this?” she asked of Noah’s bed, the crib having been tossed in the dumpster out back of the apartment.

Rush grinned with pride, “Noah’s gonna be a car guy, just like his dad, huh?” Rush asked and Noah shouted “Yah!” Rush had built Noah his very own racecar bed, and it was nothing short of amazing and as safe as could be.

“It’s all one piece, no screws or nails for him to get scratched on and no joining pieces to crush little fingers or toes.”

I rolled my eyes, “I’d better have another boy at the rate you guys are going,” I said.

“Nah, we can totally turn your girl into a racecar lovin’ – and I’m not going there.” Nox finished at my spectacular mommy death glare.

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