Swing Life Away - Chapter 4 (CPOV)
He didn't even remember falling asleep that night. Hell, he didn't even remember making it to his room at all. The last thing he'd remembered was sitting on the sofa. Unable to shake the image of his 'son' from his mind. The photo had been at least a year old, but he doubted the kid would suddenly lose all resemblance of him. If anything, it might just get worse and more noticeable. He really hoped the kid hadn't adopted either parents attitudes. And it would be disastrous if the kid adopted both of them and mixed them into some Satan child mix of evil.
Whether he remembered or not, he'd somehow fallen asleep still fully clothed. Groaning, he rolled over to see the digits on his clock glaring eleven-thirty back at him. According to the directions, and map quest, his son was about twenty minutes drive away. And despite feeling absolutely dead on his feet, today was good a day as any to pick him up and begin this new life of "Fatherhood". He grimaced at the very word and imagery that came with fatherhood, this was just going to be a natural disaster.
After a scalding shower, letting the water run cold, he changed into a pair of loose jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He grabbed a jacket from his closet. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually worn the jacket. But it was Washington, it wasn't going to feel pleasant just in a thin t-shirt. He'd shaved the stubble that had been creeping onto his face. And decided against his piercings, he didn't wanna terrify the poor child. Running a brush usually through his hair, only standing to make it look, if possible, worse. He grabbed his car keys and headed off to get a kid. He wondered if he'd been waiting. If his 'foster' mom had told him his real dad was coming to get him today. He snorted, that wouldn't be like a foster parent. They beat the spirit out of you, not rose you up and made you hopeful.
He drove in silence, his radio sitting forgotten as he considered what to say. He eventually just landed on knocking on the door and introducing himself with his name, his real name. He shuddered, he hated the name Chester, but it'd be more. Well hell, he didn't know what it would be "more" of, but that was just what he decided to do. And he'd field any further questions as they came or didn't come. No need preparing to say something that wasn't even going to be necessary in the end.
As he neared the directions, according to the map quest paper he'd printed, he frowned. The houses were nice, with perfectly manicured lawns. Family dogs chained out in the front, barking pleasantly. Curtains were thrown back to let in any sunlight. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, and kept his eyes forward. He certainly hoped his son hadn't gotten used to these sort of surroundings. Cause he wasn't going to be seeing them again.. well, ever probably.
Finally reaching the house, he sighed and parked his SUV against the curb. No reason to take up the peoples perfectly spotless driveway. He didn't believe a driveway could be so devoid of oil stains, unless it was never used. Lost in his thoughts about whether or not they used the driveway, he suddenly found himself in front of the large oak door. He spied a doorbell and considered his options. Curling his lip, he raised his fist and promptly knocked three times. Doorbells were annoying little chimes, no one heard them.
He didn't have to wait long, before a middle-aged woman opened the door. Her skin was tan, obviously fake tan. Her face showing more wrinkles than someone of her age should rightfully have. She wore a simple cream sweater and jeans. She appraised him for a moment, before smiling, causing the corners of her eyes to wrinkle further.
"You must be Trent's daddy." Her voice was rough, like someone who'd spent their life smoking.
"Yeah. Chester Hall." He said, keeping his hands to himself, crossing them loosely. He didn't feel like shaking her hand. And he was certainly going to block off any attempts she might try to hug him.
"I'll go get him right now. Wait here." She pushed the door nearly closed, but left it ajar. He heard her moving about inside. Some words, he caught 'get yout things' and 'he's here', floated through the cracked door. He heard more shuffling, two people moving about now clearly. One set of feet sounded considerably smaller than the other. In no time, the door opened again and he was now face to face with her again and at her hip, stood the boy from the photo. He looked the same, except his hair had grown out and was wild from what appeared to be sleep.
Cheshire looked down at the boy and wasn't sure what to do. Should he say something? Should he touch the kid? Should he just turn and walk to the SUV, would that be signal enough that they were going to leave? He moved his weight from one foot to the other, as he contemplated quickly. Luckily, the woman helped him out unknowingly.
"Alright Trent, lets get your things in your daddy's car." She said, with unneeded excitement and joy. He cringed inwardly, so very accustomed to that false 'joy' foster parents seemed to learn and adapt somewhere. She grabbed one of two suitcases, the larger of the two. Leaving the boy to wheel the smaller one. They both walked past Cheshire, revealing the boy was also wearing a spider man backpack.
Inhaling a bit, before rocking on his heels, he soon followed the two. Opening the back door of the SUV, to allow them to throw his luggage into the back, before closing it. He looked at the two, quirking a brow. Three bags were all the belongings this poor kid owned. He felt something tug inside again, but promptly ignored it, looking to the woman.
"That all?" He asked, just to double check. Maybe there was more inside they needed to get.
To his dismay, she nodded at him, patting Trent's shoulder gently. "Yup, that's everything." She smiled and knelt down in front of Trent. "You be good for your dad now, you here?" She cooed and gave him one big hug. He awkwardly leaned against her. Either unused to this contact, and unsure of why he was even getting a hug. She stepped back onto the porch, blowing kisses and waving, as Cheshire helped the poor kid clamber into the backseat.
Climbing into the drivers seat, he started the SUV, but didn't move. Eyeballing his son through the rear view mirror. He wasn't looking around curiously as most kids did. He just sat there, silent and looking down at his knees. Picking at a loose string in his jeans fraying knees. With a frown, he finally pulled away from the curb. Maybe his son wouldn't, talk much. I guess it'd make it easier to, ignore him. But it still didn't solve that he needed to find someone to watch him. He sighed loudly, running his hand over his face multiple times at a red light. He'd just have to place an ad in the paper. Or maybe that Craigslist they were always talking about at work. He tossed his son one last look in the rear view mirror, before lurching the car through the intersection. The drive home was silent, and his son didn't seem to interested in anything but his own knees. That really couldn't be a healthy sign, but what the hell did Cheshire know.
Parking outside his garage, he shut the vehicle off and cleared his throat. "Er.. we're here." He said, as if it wasn't obvious enough. But it felt nice to break the silence at least for a moment. And his son responded, by unbuckling his seat belt and grabbing his backpack.
Cheshire opened the back door for him, on his way to retrieve his two suitcases. Once they were retrieved and lighter than he imagined, he slammed the trunk door and paused. Seeing his son was still standing beside the SUV, looking down at the cracked cement now. His backpack was slung over just one shoulder, with one hand gripping the strap. His free hand picking at a loose thread in his shirt. The kid was going to pull himself out of a wardrobe if he kept that up.
"Well, lets head in." Cheshire finally said, motioning towards the house and luckily, Trent followed behind him without further instruction. Once inside, he kept moving, leading them both up to one of the spare rooms upstairs. He sighed, looking around the empty room. He had considered getting a bed first, but he really hadn't had the time.
"Er.. I was gonna get ya a bed tomorrow." He commented, crossing his arms loosely. "So.. You can sleep on the couch or wherever tonight.." He cracked his neck and looked at the walls. They were a mildewy green and the carpet was, cream..ish. "We can paint the walls too.." He commented, wondering if Trent liked painting. Hell, did anyone like painting? Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed Trent move to the wall and just sit, with his back against it.
Quirking a brow, Cheshire cleared his throat a bit. "The closets near the door.. I don't think there's any hangers in it. I'll need to get some tomorrow too." He considered what things he'd need to get. He'd definitely better make a list or he'd forget. "What color bed sheets do you want?" He asked, wondering if Trent had developed a favorite color or character or something of the like yet.
"White." Trent mumbled, moving to stare and pick at his knees again. Offering no further information or conversation.
Deciding he wasn't getting anymore out of Trent without prodding, which lets face it, wasn't his strong point. With a shrug, he turned on his heel and headed back downstairs, going into his room. He left his door open, in case Trent called for him or came looking. Turning on his computer, he thrummed his fingers along the desk as he waited. Exhaling an annoyed breath at how slow it was. It was new and supposedly top of the line, it shouldn't take this long to start.
Once he'd finally gotten it up and to the appropriate section of Craigslist, he began to type his entry. Trying to keep it as to the point and honest as possible. Really, he wasn't sure what to expect out of Trent yet, so he wasn't sure what all to say. And really hoped he wasn't going to get some more person wrapped up in some demon child's antics. Just shaking his head, he continued with the ad and left it simple.
Seeking a nearly full-time 'nanny' of sorts.
My son is seven years, nearly eight and of good behavior. Will need to be taken to and picked up from school. Need to have meals prepared and lunches packed.
Light housework is optional, but not required. Work will start at promptly six am Monday to Friday. Ending between six pm and seven pm, depending on day. Sometimes earlier.
Pay will be discussed upon interviewing. E-mail if you are interested.
After submitting it, he frowned, what if this didn't work? Then what would he do? Look for some stupid daycare program and fork out a fortune monthly? He shuddered at the thought and really hoped someone answered this week. So he could find someone suitable or at least remotely suitable. He wasn't going to be too picky right now, he really had no room to be.
Getting to his feet he headed into the kitchen and frowned. What the hell was he going to do for, dinner? Did Trent have any, allergies to food? Did he hate anything so strongly he'd refuse to eat? Was he one of those crazy, vegetarians? Or even worse, a vegan. Not that it mattered, dinner would be, take out or fast food of some kind. Cheshire couldn't cook and he'd never bothered to learn, beyond grilling that was.
"Hmm.." Opening the freezer he immediately frowned. Nothing in there to grill, so that idea was out. Slamming the freezer, he just ordered some pizza. A supreme for himself and a pepperoni for Trent. All kids liked cheese and pepperoni right? I mean, what was there to not like? He'd also gotten two 2-liters of soda, since he didn't have a single kid-friendly drink beyond water in his house. He'd need to do some serious grocery shopping soon. Or else this kid was gonna have a bland eating and drinking experience.
Shortly after the pizza arrived, Trent came down on his own. Cheshire assumed he'd smelled the pizza and his hunger got the better of him. They sat in silence at the dining room table, it'd been the first time Cheshire had actually used it in longer than he could remember. It was kinda nice, but almost awkward at the same time. He couldn't figure out if Trent was just a quiet kid or scared to talk to him. Then again, he was in a totally new house than last night, so maybe he was just adjusting. Either way, he wasn't fighting to start much of a conversation himself. Just eating his pizza in silence, as Trent ate and picked at his own. After they both seemed to just be picking and poking at their pizza, Cheshire stuffed the boxes into the fridge and moved into the living room. Trent followed silently, sitting on the opposite end of the couch as his father and staring at the TV.
They sat in more comfortable silence for about five episodes of COPS, before Trent yawned and rolled onto the couch, with his back to the TV. Assuming this meant his son was tired, Cheshire got up and turned the TV off. He paused in his doorway, looking back at the small figure of the boy on the couch with nothing. He quickly grabbed a pillow and one of the sheets off his bed, tucking the pillow under his sons' head and tossing the sheet over him. Before changing into his sleep pants and tucking into the blankets. Sighing, he stared through the darkness up at his ceiling. He let his thoughts run and wonder, mostly wondering about the boy laying on his couch now. But all he could do was ask questions he wasn't sure he'd ever get the answer to.
Next Chapter: TBA