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And just like that, they split up, Mark wondering if his apology would be enough. Maybe Isaiah had already reached the end of his considerable patience.
* * *
Isaiah clicked the baby’s car seat into place, then slid into the passenger seat. Because of fucking course Mark had had to drive today. He suppressed the growl that wanted to escape.
“I bet they fall asleep before I’m even back on the main road.” Mark was trying too hard to be in a good mood, fake laugh and too-hearty voice.
“Maybe.” Isaiah wasn’t sure that silence from the kids was what they needed right then. He’d been the one to tell Mark he wouldn’t push for anything public. He was the only one to blame for today’s mess.
“If they do, you want me to just drive on?” Mark glanced over at him as he pulled out of the parking space. Tension bracketed his eyes and mouth. “Maybe that would be fun? Go up the coast again...”
“Nah.” Hours alone in the car with Mark was not what he needed. “I need to get back, work on my website.”
“Okay.” Mark sounded sad, and that made Isaiah’s neck hurt. He didn’t want to feel guilty for turning down a drive. And in the weeks since the funeral, they’d done the “kids are asleep so just drive” thing more than once. It was kind of a thing for them, driving aimlessly, the way he had when he was younger with Aunt Cecily, finding pretty scenery to look at and talking about random topics while the kids napped.
But Isaiah didn’t want to get into habits with Mark, make traditions and memories, not if this wasn’t real to Mark. He’d been slightly heartened when Mark had referred to them as his family, but all that had crumbled when Mark hadn’t even really tried to dodge Mary Ellen’s attempt to set him up with her sister. How hard would it have been to say he was seeing someone and leave it vague? Even that would have been an improvement over Mark’s tepid response.
“You’re grinding your teeth.” Mark reached over, then seemed to think the better of it, returning his hand to the steering wheel as they turned onto their street. “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”
“I’m not sure,” Isaiah admitted. He honestly wasn’t sure what he needed. “Hey what’s that car?”
An unfamiliar sedan was in front of the house as Mark pulled into the driveway. And before they were even done unloading the sleepy kids, two women hopped out of the car, headed straight for them. Isaiah’s stomach roiled, his body already deciding this wasn’t going to be good. Should have let Mark go for a drive.
“Oh, I’m so glad we caught you!” The taller of the women approached them. Isaiah wasn’t glad at all. She had “social worker” written all over her, from her twinset top to her sensible shoes and narrow gaze. And sure enough, she continued on, “I’m Diane and this is Stacey. We’re with the state. The hospital social worker alerted us to your case, asked for a welfare check, but we’ve been so swamped, it took us a few weeks to get to you guys.”
“Are we in trouble?” Isaiah hugged the sleeping Liam closer to him, like that might help.
“This is just routine. Especially in cases like yours—the hospital social worker didn’t have specific concerns, but she just wanted to make sure you had every resource available to you.”
Ha. That sounded like a bunch of legalese bunk. “We’re managing.”
“I’m sure you are.” The second social worker had a more soothing voice. “We just want to talk to you about things like parenting classes and such, and do our standard welfare check of the home.”
“Do you want a copy of my petition for guardianship?” Thank God that was already in process, although with the way the courts were backed up, it could be months still before he had a resolution.
“I’ve got copies of the wills as well,” Mark added. “And the health insurance cards and stuff like that.”
“Excellent. Let’s go in, and we can chat.” The first social worker made it sound like they’d have a tea and like this was purely optional. Isaiah knew better. Sure he could insist on them getting a warrant to enter, but that would only escalate stuff even further. Fuck. His heart was hammering double time, and his hand shook unlocking the door.
“It’ll be okay,” Mark whispered, right behind him. “I promise.”
Ha. Isaiah wasn’t sure he bought Mark’s promises. Not today. Not when the social workers went from room to room with a checklist, even opening the fridge. Thank God, he’d just done a shopping trip, and there were plenty of snacks and kid-friendly foods for them to see. He got his tablet for Daphne and Zoe to try to distract them, and put Liam in his bouncy chair. Naptime clearly wasn’t happening.
