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“So let’s talk sleeping arrangements. Who sleeps where?” Diane asked, directing the question to Mark as she had most of the others, like Mark was the only functional adult in the room. Like at the hospital, the social workers kept calling Mark the next of kin and kept minimizing Isaiah’s role, despite him producing the petition for guardianship, which they barely glanced at.
And wasn’t sleeping arrangements a dicey question. Mark had slept with him most of the past week. Which Isaiah had loved. But all he needed now was one of the kids to share that fact and Mark to adamantly deny it. He didn’t think the social workers would hold his sexual orientation against him, as he had plenty of friends in same-sex relationships raising kids, like Dylan. But lying or seeming like they were hiding something was sure to be frowned on.
“Mark’s down here.” He gestured at the back of the house before Mark could answer. “I’m in the guest room upstairs. Liam has the nursery, and the girls share a room.”
“Okay. Any girlfriends, boyfriends, other adults who come and go?” Diane took copious notes.
“Nope. Kids are our first priority.” And didn’t he need to remember that. The kids were everything, not whatever he and Mark had had going. Not when he couldn’t be sure that Mark valued it too.
“Yes, ma’am.” Mark echoed him, turning the military charm up to eleven and flashing his dimples. “That and work. I’m a SEAL instructor right now, and Isaiah’s got his own landscaping company.”
Was it possible that Mark sounded a little...proud? Isaiah had half expected him to share that detail with the sort exacerbated tone Dad would take. That was the real reason he hadn’t shared his business idea with Mark—he was worried he’d just see it as another Isaiah phase or more evidence that he was flighty and couldn’t stick with “real” jobs. But Mark was nudging him to share a business card, expression supportive. Isaiah handed one over, and the questions continued, covering childcare arrangements, discipline strategies, and even bedtime routines.
“Uncle Mark does the best voices,” Daphne shared. She’d been pretty quiet up until that point.
“I bet he does,” Diane gave her an encouraging smile. “Now, we’re going to mark the hospital’s concern closed, but it’s possible that when the court hears the guardianship petition that they’ll order a full formal home study at that point. The court investigator will be in touch about that, but there’s always the chance that the court investigator will refer the case back to us for further action. That happens sometimes.”
Isaiah did not like the sound of further action at all, but Mark was smiling and nodding and finally showing them to the door, so he tried to mimic his easy attitude. He hadn’t realized that the court could order a home study. He needed to get serious about making a post-Mark-selling-the-house plan. The court was going to want some specifics, which weren’t always his strong suit. Fuck. He’d gotten too comfortable with Mark and this arrangement.
“Well that’s over.” Mark shut the door and turned back to him. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Isaiah headed for the kitchen.
“Liar.” Mark stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I would never let them take the kids. Not without a fight. I was ready to get a lawyer here if things took an unpleasant turn.”
Unpleasant turn. Isaiah snorted. “Sometimes lawyers aren’t enough.”
“Ike. Talk to me. Did something happen when you were younger? Is that why you get so jittery around social workers?”
“Yeah.” Isaiah nodded. He’d never talked about this with anyone outside of the family before, and even there, it was one of those things his father never liked to refer to. “I broke my arm at school. Bad break. Needed surgery to set it. Dad was on one of his research trips, out in the Chilean Mountains, and he’d never done a formal guardianship with Aunt Cecily. She didn’t even have a letter from him explaining the situation. The hospital wouldn’t let her give permission to treat. Instead I ended up spending a week in foster care while she got an emergency message to my dad and got a lawyer. I hated it. I was so scared every night that I’d never get to go home again.”
“Oh, Ike.” Mark wrapped him up in a hug. “That must have sucked.”
“Yeah.” Isaiah still hadn’t entirely forgiven his father for not having his affairs better in order. He was not going to be that guy for the kids. He’d get his shit together. Make plans. Not rely so much on Mark. If he’d learned anything in his life, it was that the only person he could truly count on was himself.
Chapter Seventeen
“Who wants a story?” Mark was eager to get the bedtime show on the road because that meant he could talk more with Isaiah after the kids were asleep. And they did need to talk. It had been a hell of a day between the egg hunt debacle and the social worker.
