Page 57 of Marcus-stiltskin
“It’s a shitty weekend for this to happen,” Deputy Moreau tells Marcus as I focus back on their conversation. “Not that there’s any good weekend, but I know for a fact all of our foster parents in the county are at max capacity and our caseworkers are both out of office. One just had a c-section two days ago, the other had to travel for a funeral, and it’s a three-day weekend. Family court won’t be back in session until Tuesday morning.”
“You only have two caseworkers for the entire area?”
She nods.
Marcus looks at me and then back at the deputy. “I hate to say this aloud, but I am still certified as a foster parent in this state. My recertification actually is due around Thanksgiving. If it was just for the weekend, I could probably take her in.”
Marcus is nuts, but I keep my thoughts to myself. I have yet to find out if I’ll be charged with anything regarding the destroyed bar. Best not to draw attention to myself anymore than I already have. She nods and stands up from the table. “I’ll keep that in mind. We may have to, if you can swing it. Stay right here. We’ve got to figure out what’s going on.”
She moves across the room toward the group of men, conferring with the deputy for a little while before returning to us. “Because magic was involved, this entire matter is being referred over to an arbitrator who specializes in magical and creature-related issues. The Lamar pack is going to seek custody on Tuesday morning as soon as they can get in to see the arbitrator, but considering the fit their Beta threw tonight, we’d rather have the child with a certified provider. Would you be willing to take her on for the next three days?”
Marcus looks at me, and I shrug. “We can always call Jacqueline and Lugh if we get too lost. Do some internet searches.”
Marcus nods, and that’s how we end up with a baby in our possession for seventy-two hours. Technically, it’s Marcus’spossession, but it feels disloyal to take off on him in his time of need, so I follow him home. It gives me a good excuse to ignore the Lamar pack and something else to focus on other than how I’m going to pay my bills if I decide to not go back, or, more likely, Randy decides to let me go.
What I’m doing after stripping seems to be more of an issue than it was just a few weeks ago.I may not have a job anymore, and honestly, that may not be a bad thing. It feels more and more like the universe is throwing down all kinds of red flags, signaling it might be time to move on.
We have nothing for a baby, and seeing as she came with nothing other than the onesie she’s in and the crazy yellow blanket, we do the only thing we can do. I borrow a car seat from one of the girls with kids and head over to Jacqueline and Lugh’s.
“I thought you two were just dating,” Jacqueline jokes as she lets us and the baby inside. “If you know a way to speed up pregnancy, then I want in on the secret.”
We give the condensed version of Baby Jane’s arrival and Jacqueline and Lugh get to digging through their old baby stuff for us. They find a moses basket, some diapers baby Jack used for a week before jumping two sizes, tons of burp rags, and some swaddling blankets with velcro to make turning the baby into a burrito easier. They throw in wipes and a carseat with a base to make it easier to carry her around, and all we have to pick up on the way home is formula and bottles.
Back at the fire station, I take the baby out of her carrier-car seat while Marcus follows slowly behind. “What do we do with her now?” I ask as Marcus takes a break at the kitchen table.
He laughs. “I’m not sure. You’re the one with nieces and nephews.”
“Yeah, but when Jack was born, Lugh and Jacqueline were on baby detail…I just took care of Wendy by keeping her out of their hair for a few days.”
“I was the only guy in my office, so I wasn’t usually put in charge of babies. Hmmm. Does she need to be fed yet?” he asks. I turn her so I can see her little face. She sucks on the pacifier really hard for a few seconds.
“Probably?”
We spend the next ten minutes fighting with the bottle and trying to read the tiny print directions on the formula canister. Baby Jane is in fact very pissed off about something because seven minutes in, she begins to wail.
“How does she have enough lung capacity to cry like that?” I ask him as he finishes up and hands me the bottle.
He just shakes his head. I insist on switching off jobs–I give him the baby to feed so he can sit while I unload baby supplies from the truck and get things set up. He moves into the bedroom to be closer to me. I work in silence mostly, save for the sound of Baby Jane greedily sucking down her meal.
“Just because I volunteered myself doesn’t mean you have to stick around for this adventure,” he says as I finish up and flop down next to him.
“What are friends for?”
“Friends? Did you just call me a friend?”
“Well, you are, aren’t you?” I look down at the baby, trying not to let him see my red face. This is not how I wanted this conversation to go.
“So that’s all I am to you…a friend?” The hurt in his voice is unmistakable.
“I shake my head. No. It’s just. I didn’t want to push, if you didn’t want to–”
“What did I tell you during our first night together?”
I shake my head, not sure what he’s looking for.
“I told you I wanted to date you, to see if we could be more. I’m looking for someone serious, someone who wants to stick around for the long haul.”
I sigh. “But I wasn’t going to hold you to words you said in horniness.”