Van: Vested Interest #5

by Melanie Moreland

  “Are you okay?”

  I ran my hand over her head, sliding my fingers through her thick hair. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  I huffed out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “It’s going to be fine, Van. We’re going to meet him. Get to know him a little. Let him know us. See if we think it will work.”

  “I know. It feels so…big. I don’t want to disappoint him.” I looked at the file sitting on the coffee table. “I think he’s had enough disappointments.”

  She cupped my cheek. “It is big. And I love that so much about you. But today is very casual.”

  I chuckled. “It doesn’t feel casual to me.”

  She leaned forward, pressing her mouth to mine. “I know, baby. Another reason I love you.”

  “Yeah?” I asked. “Care to share more reasons?”

  “I could show you.”

  I quirked my eyebrow. “Here?”

  She smirked. “Sammy is at Mom’s. We have the house to ourselves. It’s still early, and we don’t have anywhere to be for a few hours.”

  I slid my cup onto the table and turned to her. “Oh, I have someplace to be, all right.” I pushed her back into the cushions, covering her with my body. “Inside you.”

  She wrapped her leg around me, drawing me close.

  “Get at it then, Van.”

  I tugged at my collar. It felt warm in the room. I glanced toward Liv. She looked calm. Why wasn’t I calm? I tugged again, and she leaned toward me.

  “Van, relax.”

  “What if he doesn’t like me? His file says he has a hard time with new people.”

  “Just be patient. Be Van.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” I muttered, using Sammy’s favorite phrase.

  She laughed and cupped my cheek. “Yes, you do. You do you better than anyone. He is gonna love you.”

  The door opened and our caseworker, Angela, came in, smiling brightly at us.

  Liv and I had decided to adopt another child. We had gone through the interviews, passed all the requirements, and were now ready for the next step. We had agreed we wanted an older child. One of the ones who was harder to place. I was shocked when I saw the number of kids waiting to find a family. The babies and toddlers were easy to find homes for most of the time, but as Angela explained, once they were no longer cute and cuddly, older kids were hard to place permanently.

  We had looked at tons of profiles, both girls and boys, but somehow, when I saw the picture of this kid, my heart had kicked in. Together, we studied his file, and my chest ached the entire time. He was eight years old. His parents were killed in a car accident that he survived over a year ago. He was left with a limp that still persisted. He needed glasses to read. He stuttered at times. With no other family, he was put into the system. He’d had three foster homes and one attempt at adoption, but he hadn’t bonded with anyone and the last family found his constant quietness troublesome and felt they weren’t equipped to deal with his issues. His photo told me his issues. He needed love and understanding and a place to feel safe. He needed a home. I wasn’t a fool—I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but something about this kid made me want to make the effort. At least meet him and see what happened.

  And the kicker?

  His name was Reed.

  I met Liv’s teary eyes.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  She nodded in agreement, and I kissed her head.

  “Okay. I’ll make the call.”

  Now we were here to meet him.

  “Okay, he’s here,” Angela informed us. “I’ll introduce you and you can visit.”

  “Does he know why we’re here?”

  Her expression became sad. “He knows there is a chance you want to adopt him. He’s been through this before. He’s a great kid, but a bit hard to get through to at first. His foster family is awesome, but he needs to find a real home and family. I think, in the right place, he’ll blossom.” She sighed. “He has so much potential, but he needs the right family to bring it out.”

  I shared a glance with Liv. We knew all about potential. “Okay.”

  We stood and followed her into the next room.

  My heart broke at the sight of the child standing next to the window.

  Slight of frame, he had wild and curly dark hair. It needed a trim. Heavy glasses sat on his nose and he pushed them up constantly in a nervous gesture. His clothes were too loose and hung on him, his sneakers worn and old. As we drew closer, his light brown eyes were apprehensive. His hands twisted and tore at the sides of his jeans. But he thrust out his chin and met my gaze, his bravado reminding me of Liv. His eyes widened as I moved closer, and he watched every move I made.

  I stopped when I was close enough and smiled at him. “Hey.”

  He said nothing.

  Liv bent down, holding out her hand. “I’m Liv Morrison. This is my husband, Van.”

  Still, he said nothing. To my horror, his chin began to quiver, and I took a step back.

  “It’s okay, little man. If I scare you, I can go stand over there. You can talk to Liv for a bit, okay? She’s really nice.”

  I began to move away, and he spoke.

  “No!”

  I froze. “Okay.”

  “Are you—are you a giant?” His voice was low and raspy, as if it wasn’t used often. I wanted to change that.

  I laughed and lowered myself to one knee. “You know, you’re not the first person who has asked me that question. My daughter said the same thing the first time I met her.”

  “Your d-daughter?”

  “Yeah. Her name is Sammy—I adopted her. But no, buddy, I’m not a giant. I’m just really tall.”

  “I want to be t-tall.” He pushed his glasses up his nose.

  “You probably will be when you grow up.”

  He edged closer. “Really?”

  I nodded sagely. “I was about your height when I was your age.”

  “Wow,” he muttered.

  Liv crouched beside me. “Would you like to visit with us for a while?”

  He paused and my heart sank. I thought we were doing pretty well. Maybe my size was too much for him?

  He looked past me. Angela was still in the room, waiting to see what happened before she left us alone.

  He pushed his glasses back on his nose again. “Y-yes.”

  “Good,” I replied. “That’s good. We’d like to talk with you for a while.”

  “Remember what I told you?” Angela called to him.

  His eyes went round, and once again, his chin trembled. “I was supposed to be p-polite and say my-my name,” he sniffed. “The way you did.”

  “That’s okay,” I assured him. “We can start again. We have do-overs in our house all the time.”

  “Yeah?” he breathed out.

  “Oh yeah.”

  I held out my hand. “Hi, little man. I’m Van and this is Liv.”

  He rubbed his hand on his jeans and lifted it toward me. “H-hello.”

  I closed my hand around his. It felt small within my grasp, and he trembled. But again, he lifted his chin.

  “My name is Reed Armstrong.”

  I shook his little hand. “Hello, Reed.”

  Two hours later, I didn’t know how I was gonna leave this kid behind. I was on the floor, my legs stretched out with him on top of my thighs. Liv was beside me and we were answering Reed’s never-ending questions. I discovered, once he relaxed, his stutter was less frequent, his voice lost the raspiness, and his grin was brighter than the sun. And there was nothing quiet about him.

  He wanted to know all about Sammy, our house, and the park. How I got my muscles. If I could drive the big trucks the way he saw when he watched TV shows on construction. If I had a hard hat. When I told him about my friend Reid and how he worked with computers, his face lit up.

  “Can-can I meet him? I love computers.”

  His face became sad, and his eyes clouded over. “I had one…before. My dad a
nd I used to play games on it.”

  “You miss your parents, Reed?” Liv asked gently.

  He hung his head. “Yes.”

  “You can talk about them, you know. Tell us all about them. It’s okay.”

  “They died.”

  I rubbed his arm, hating the fact that he was so thin. He needed some of Liv’s home cooking.

  “We know. We’re sorry. And we’re sorry you were hurt.”

  He rubbed his leg. “I walk funny now. And s-sometimes I talk funny. Kids laugh.”

  “People sometimes laugh when they don’t know what to say.”

  “They say I’m w-weird.”

  “Hey,” I said, waiting until he lifted his head again. “We don’t think you’re weird. We like you. And you know what else?”

  He shook his head.

  “My friend Reid won’t think you’re weird. He would love to show you his computers.”

  It was the first time I saw the kid in him.

  “Awesome!” he crowed.

  He was fascinated when Liv pulled out her pad and drew him a picture. He watched her constantly as she moved.

  “She’s so pretty,” he whispered to me in an awed voice.

  “Yeah, she is,” I agreed, ruffling his hair.

  He pushed up his glasses again, and I held out my hand. “Can I see those, Reed?”

  He handed them to me, and I frowned. They were old and obviously used, but I realized probably the best that could be done given the budgets in the system. But I carefully worked the arms a little and slid them back onto his nose. “Better?”

  He nodded. His gaze drifted over to the box beside me and I chuckled. “You want another Danish?”

  “Please.”

  I opened the box. “Help yourself, little man.”

  He munched away, and I met Liv’s eyes. I could see she felt the same. She stood, brushing off her jeans. “Excuse me.”

  My eyes followed her to the door, knowing she was going to go and talk to Angela.

  I had the feeling my family was going to expand.

  A week later, we brought Sammy to meet Reed. Within minutes, they were on the floor, talking. His dark head bent low over her bright hair as they each chose a Danish from the box, then ate their snack. Liv sat with them, teasing and laughing.

  Beside me, Angela shook her head. “I can’t believe how he has responded to you.”

  “We want to move forward. Take him home.”

  “It won’t always be this easy,” she warned.

  I looked at the three of them. “I know, but it will be worth it.”

  Another year passes…

  The front door burst open, and Reed rushed in. “Dad!”

  I looked up from the sofa. “Hey, big guy. What’s up?”

  He hurried over. “Look!”

  I groaned. “Another computer?”

  Reid strolled in, grinning. “Me and my buddy built it over the last couple of weeks. He did most of it himself.”

  I ruffled my son’s hair, knowing he hated it. Or at least pretended to. “Good job.”

  “You should see the games it has on it. It is wicked.” He turned and fist-bumped with his buddy. He took off upstairs, and I knew he would be playing for as long as we allowed.

  My son had two favorite people in the world aside from us.

  Number one was without a doubt, Reid Matthews. When we first brought our Reed home, it had been difficult. Despite our great start, he had been terrified of being rejected again and had pushed us away, constantly testing us. Reid understood his fears and could relate to him on a level we couldn’t comprehend. He became his friend and confidant, bonding over computers, pizza, and a lot of private conversations. With Reid’s help, we had broken down Reed’s barriers, and he had come to trust us. Trust the love and know he was part of our family. The respect and admiration I already had for Reid grew by leaps and bounds watching him help my son.

  My gratitude was, and always would be, endless.

  His second favorite person in the world was Aiden. As awed by his immense size as he was by mine when we first met, Reed was fascinated when I took him to watch Aiden work out. Crouching to his level, Aiden spoke to him man-to-man.

  “Van tells me you have a weak leg.”

  Reed nodded, backing into me, his fingers grabbing on to my pant leg. I rested my hand on his shoulder, letting him know I was right there for him.

  “Kids pick on you?”

  “S-sometimes,” Reed whispered.

  “You know, growing up, I was so small, I got picked on all the time. Smaller than you.”

  Reed looked up at me, doubtful.

  “He was,” I confirmed. “I’ve seen pictures.”

  “I can help make your leg stronger.” Aiden told him.

  Reed released my pants, shuffling closer to Aiden. “You c-can?”

  “Yep. It’ll take some hard work. You’ll spend lots of time with me and Van here in the gym. You okay with that?”

  “I like the g-gym.”

  “Okay. We’ll make you strong. Once you’re bigger, you remember never to pick on anyone else, okay? You always stick up for other kids.”

  “Okay.”

  Aiden grinned, his dimples deep. His voice lowered. “You know what else Van told me?”

  Reed shook his head.

  Aiden stood and reached for a box. One I recognized. Aiden flipped open the lid.

  “That you love lemon Danishes too.”

  They’d been fast friends since that moment.

  But nothing compared to his love for Sammy and Liv.

  To Sammy, he was a big brother. Fiercely protective, ever patient, even when she insisted on tea parties and hats. She made him laugh and act like a kid. They watched movies, had popcorn fights, argued over the last piece of cake, or who left the door open. He adored her, and she returned the affection tenfold, smothering him in her kisses and cuddles—even when he didn’t want them.

  His love for Liv was endless. She was the softness and light he needed. The comfort he craved and the intense care he required. She made it her mission to get him healthy. Gone was the thin frame, and his appetite now rivaled mine. I wasn’t sure how we’d manage to fill him up once he became a teenager. The baggy clothes, worn sneakers, and used glasses were a thing of the past. We had his eyes tested and proper frames fitted, and he no longer struggled with the glasses sliding down his nose. Liv worked with him, infinitely patient, and helped him catch up at school. She met with his teachers, helped with his homework, and soothed his worries.

  As he grew more comfortable, his stutter began to fade. When he was tired or upset, he would falter, but it, and other symptoms of his trauma, began to disappear.

  And for me, he was my little buddy. My little man and my best friend. He sought me out for advice. Asked me countless questions about the world. He came to me when Sammy drove him to distraction, knowing I would understand since “I was a guy too,” and “Dad, I just can’t today.”

  We rode our bikes together. Baseball became our thing, and we took in as many games as possible, often with Reid and Aiden coming with us. I began to teach him how to play the guitar. He was a natural at it, and there were times we lost hours to simply playing tunes together. He loved to come with me to practice, and the guys in the band always made him feel welcome and let him jam on occasion.

  He loved to work with me in my workshop. Sundays were his favorite day since my dad came over and the three of us hung out, working on our latest project. Never having a grandparent before, he loved the extra attention and perks, and he learned fast from Sammy how to work them.

  It made me laugh.

  We did so many things as a family. Movies. Bowling. Cheering him on at soccer, attending dance practice and recitals for Mouse, celebrating birthdays, weekend trips away, family game night. Our life was full.

  And tomorrow, I would add a third frame to the mantel, and add another important day to my life.

  He was already ours. My son. But tomorrow, he would o
fficially be a Morrison.

  “You ready?” Reid asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

  “What? Oh yeah. Liv has it all under control. We’re going to the courthouse in the morning, signing the papers, and having breakfast as a family, then everyone here tomorrow afternoon to celebrate.”

  He grinned. “I got the video done.”

  Providing all the pictures we’d taken over the past year, I’d had Reid create a video, documenting Reed’s life with us. It was a surprise for everyone.

  “Liv is gonna love it.”

  “I know.”

  “He is a great kid, Van.”

  It was my turn to grin.

  “I know.”

  The house was full, the party spilling into the backyard. All of our close friends and family were here. BAM was well represented, including Simon and his family. His wife, Cathy, and Liv had become close friends, and we saw them often.

  Bentley, Aiden, Maddox, Reid, and their families mingled with Elly, my parents, my bandmates, Hal, and a few other close friends. Sandy and Jordan were in attendance, their story still new and evolving. It was good to see the light back in Sandy’s eyes and see how happy my friend was these days. They were a great couple.

  I realized it was much the same gathering as at our wedding. We didn’t need quantity when it came to our life. We preferred quality.

  Reed stuck close to either Liv or me. It had been an emotional day for all of us, but him especially. Adopting him had brought up a lot of unresolved issues around his parents’ death, and we’d worked through them, not proceeding until he was ready. Calling us Mom and Dad had come easier. His parents had been Mama and Papa, so the titles didn’t bother him as much as much as changing his name. He worried about how they would feel and if he would forget them.

  It was Liv who came up with the compromise. She sat us down one night with an idea.

  “Reed, you have no middle name. I checked with Hal, and we can arrange to add Armstrong with ours. You could be Reed Armstrong Morrison. That way, you have both of them. I think it sounds like a great name. What do you think?”

  He launched himself at her, winding his arms around her neck and sobbing. I rubbed his back, smiling at my wife. She always knew what we needed and, somehow, managed to make it happen.