Jonathan's Promise Page 2

  And suddenly, Jonathan was overwhelmed by the memory of how they’d first learned about Rick, and how the boy had ended up with them.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 3 - Rick

  It had been a few years after they’d gotten married.

  “Jon? Are you home?”

  “I’m in the kitchen, Hon. Something wrong?” Jonathan was suspicious; Dan sounded excited—not his usual behavior.

  “No, nothing wrong. Quite the contrary. I just got a call from child protective services. They have a child for us. We can go meet him today.” There was a bounce to Dan’s step as he strode into the kitchen, and his smile stretched wider than usual as he greeted Jonathan with a kiss.

  Jonathan was stunned. “A boy? For us? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, he’s four years old, his name is Rick, and he’s been an orphan since the age of two. He’s been through a couple of foster homes, but for some reason, nobody wants to adopt him.”

  “Is there something wrong with him?” Jonathan couldn’t fathom why a child so young hadn’t been adopted.

  “I don’t think so, or the social worker would’ve told me.” Dan shrugged. “You wanna go meet him?”

  “Of course. When?” Jonathan felt his own excitement building as it finally sank in. “I can’t believe it. A child? For us? After all these years?”

  Two hours later, they pulled up to the orphanage where they were to meet the child that could potentially become theirs. Jonathan was nervous, and he felt that Dan was, too. Ever since they’d gotten married—the summer after Jonathan’s father had killed himself—they’d wanted children, but they’d realized they’d increase their chances if Jonathan got his college degree first. As soon as he’d gotten his MBA, they’d applied formally to become adoptive parents, and at twenty-eight, Jonathan felt he was ready to become a dad. He also knew that at forty, Dan was more than anxious, aware that in all things adoption, age would be a greater obstacle the older he got.

  They were greeted at the door by a woman around Dan’s age, who introduced herself as Mrs. Josy Roberts, Rick’s case worker, and she was very open with them.

  “I’m so glad you could make it on such short notice. I understand you’ve been waiting almost three years for a potential placement? I can relate to that. My husband and I don’t have any children of our own, either, and I know how painful that can be. I’m sure you’ll be thrilled when you meet Rick. He’s the sweetest boy.”

  “We’re happy you called,” Dan said. “And yes, it came a bit out of the blue after all the waiting. What can you tell us about Rick?”

  “His mother was a substance abuser; she died when Rick was two, father unknown. Rick had been severely neglected—given his heart condition, it’s a wonder he survived that long—”

  “Heart condition?” Jonathan interrupted her. “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t your social worker inform you?” Josy blushed. “I’m sorry you weren’t forewarned, but Rick has a very serious heart condition. He has one heart valve that doesn’t work, and he’ll need surgery when he’s older. He’s too young for it at moment, as his heart is still growing. Most likely he’ll need the valve replaced by a mechanical one, but that’s for the doctors to determine. Sadly, the state doesn’t fund such surgeries. I’m surprised they didn’t inform you of this…” She trailed off, clearly uncomfortable that her colleagues hadn’t primed Jonathan and Dan about Rick’s condition.

  Jonathan was shocked. He had been looking forward to this so much, and even though he’d wondered why a four-year-old boy wasn’t already adopted, Dan’s assurance had laid his worries to rest. Now he understood; it was the usual “scraps for the gays.” Poor Rick wasn’t very highly rated by straight couples and so, eventually, social services turned to gay couples in hopes of placing children like Rick: broken children.

  Jonathan was disgusted, by the reaction of the families who had rejected Rick, and the fact that he and Dan were only contacted when social services couldn’t find anywhere else for Rick to go. Yet at the same time, Jonathan’s heart was racing, reaching out to this child who needed love, nurturing, a child he hadn’t even met. But he was also worried about what it would mean to have a child with a severe heart condition, how it would change their lives on a day-to-day basis, how it could potentially affect them if they were to lose that child…

  Better focus on the now, Jonathan thought. He looked over at Dan and saw his husband in distress. I guess he’s taking it pretty hard, too. With a nod of confirmation to Rick’s case worker, Jonathan took Dan by the hand. “Come on, Hon. Let’s meet this boy!”

  Mrs. Roberts took them upstairs and led them down a corridor, to the far end of the building. They came to a door and glanced into a room, where four beds jutted out from one wall. Along the opposite wall, there were four small closets, each with a door that could be locked, and next to each bed was a small side table with a drawer and a lamp. The beds were neatly made, all with the same stark white bedding. Everything about the room reminded Jonathan of the old hospitals and sanatoriums he’d seen in pictures. It certainly looked nothing like a room where children would play, although there was a chest by the window where the toys were presumably stored.

  “Rick?” Mrs. Roberts called as she walked into the room. “Are you in here? You have visitors.”

  There was no reply from inside the room, and she walked across to the bed nearest the window. Behind it, sitting on the floor, playing with a wooden toy locomotive, sat a boy with tousled brown hair. He was dressed in plain trousers and a sweater, the arms and legs of which were too short. Perhaps he’d just had a growth spurt, Jonathan could only hope. The boy certainly didn’t seem to care about his visitors and continued to ignore them, absorbed in his play.

  “Rick?” Mrs. Roberts tried again. “Jonathan and Dan have come to meet you. Would you please get up and say hello? Like you’ve been taught?”

  Rick looked up, past Mrs. Roberts, to Jonathan and Dan. It was no more than a quick glance, but Jonathan had seen it in the boy’s eyes: sadness, and hopelessness. With care, Jonathan edged around the bed and sat down on the floor a few feet away from Rick, who had fully turned his attention back to his toy train.

  “Hi, I’m Jonathan, and this is my husband Dan. What are you playing?”

  Rick looked up and gave him the sort of “what do you care?” look that almost froze Jonathan’s heart. How could a child this young be so disillusioned?

  Mrs. Roberts tried to break the ice. “Listen, Rick, I know this isn’t the first time people have come to meet you, but I have a good feeling about these two…”

  Jonathan smiled inwardly. Why? Because we didn’t turn on our heels and run when you told us about his heart condition? But he knew better than to say anything. He and Dan wanted a child. It didn’t matter if that child was healthy or not, and here was this child: a boy they could love and protect. Jonathan was worried about Rick’s heart condition, but with their wealth, they could afford the best healthcare in the world, so that wouldn’t be an issue. No, what he feared was losing Rick before they’d had a chance to get to know him. Not getting through to the child hurt the most.

  “Rick? Can I tell you a little story?” Jonathan tried.

  Dan joined them on the floor, sitting behind Jonathan with a supportive arm around his shoulder. Jonathan was grateful for how well his husband knew him.

  “I know what it’s like to lose your parents. I lost mine, about ten years ago. I was very much alone then, but I met Dan, and we’ve been together ever since. I know what it means to be left alone, all by yourself in the whole wide world. I know that better than you can possibly imagine…” Jonathan felt the tears well in his eyes, the memories of those difficult days in the forest forever etched in his mind. He’d have died if he hadn’t found Dan’s cabin that day.

  “Rick, you have no reason to trust anybody right now, but maybe you could give us a chance.” Jonathan tried to smile, to look upbeat, despite the heavy memories flooding his consciousn
ess. “At least let us buy you some ice cream?”

  “Ice cream? Yes please!” Rick beamed at him.

  Dan had to laugh out loud. “Thank God for ice cream. Every parent’s life saver, eh, Mrs. Roberts?”

  The social worker smiled and nodded.

  “Is it okay if we take him out for an hour?” Jonathan asked. “I know this great place downtown. They make the best gelato in the entire city.”

  Rick was already on his feet and running to his closet to grab a jacket and put on his shoes.

  Mrs. Roberts shrugged agreeably. “I don’t see why not. Just make sure you have him back here by four p.m. for his afternoon snack with the other kids.”

  Jonathan and Dan moved to the door, where Rick was waiting, holding out his hand to the man who’d promised him ice cream.

  ***

  That afternoon, during that hour, and with plenty of gelato to seal the deal, a little family was forged. Rick had nestled his way into Jonathan’s and Dan’s hearts, rooting himself so deeply that nothing could ever have dragged them apart again. It would take months and months of regular visits from social workers and investigations into the men’s background—and sometimes ugly questions from the judge at the family court—before the adoption was final, and Rick became a Jackson.

  They’d joked they were now The Jackson Three, but the adoption process had also taken a toll on them, robbing them of their faith in the system. How could the state allow the best parents to be disregarded, simply because of who they loved? Why did the state tolerate people who claimed they wanted children rejecting kids like Rick, because they weren’t perfect, because they were hoping for someone better?

  Jonathan didn’t want Rick to grow up alone; he wanted another child. But neither he nor Dan wanted to go through it all over again, and so they decided to try surrogacy the next time around, rather than set themselves up for further distress and disappointment with social services. In their eyes, Rick was perfect, and eventually, at sixteen, he’d have the surgeries needed to replace his faulty heart valve. After that, he’d be just like all the other boys in his class.

  ***

  They’d known Rick would never compete in the Olympics, but he had been a smart and compassionate child. Jonathan loved him more than life itself and knew Dan had always felt the same. Remembering now the adoption and the surgeries, it was almost incomprehensible that their little boy was now the father of two adult children, on the cusp of becoming a grandfather himself.

  Jonathan looked up above him, took a sip of his drink and held out his glass. “Wherever you are, my love. Here’s to you. We’ve done well!”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 4 - Parker

  Jonathan woke up early the next morning. Outside, the night had not yet given up its daily rule, clinging on for all it had, growing stronger with the approaching winter solstice. Jonathan looked at his watch. Six a.m.? If only I could sleep a little longer. He got up and went through to the large en suite bathroom to relieve himself. He had to smile inwardly as he thought about how his body was falling apart for every year he got older. Even peeing was becoming a bit of a challenge, and he had to get up more than once during the night, feeling as if he’d drunk a couple of pints of beer. It’s just not fair.

  But it was what it was, and there was nothing he could do. At least he didn’t have prostate troubles the way Dan had. Thankful for small mercies, eh? He looked up at the ceiling, shaking the last drops from his dick before flushing the toilet and washing his hands. He put on a robe and walked slowly downstairs to the kitchen. Coffee! I need coffee.

  The espresso machine was already on and awaiting its master’s commands. Jonathan grabbed a cup from the heating pad on the machine, placed it under the nozzles and pushed the button. He loved to watch and listen to the machine preparing his first cup of the day: grinding the precious brown beans and pressing them with careful precision into the metal filter. A gust of hot steam signaled the water was working its way through the ground coffee, and soon dark liquid trickled from the nozzles into the waiting cup. The rich aroma reached Jonathan’s nostrils and woke him up, bringing a smile to his face. There’s nothing like the smell of the first cup of coffee in the morning, he thought to himself and then laughed out loud.

  “Yeah, I know what you’re going to say, Hon. I’ve been an addict ever since I had that first cup in the cabin, sixty years ago, and the day you bought me fresh coffee, after I’d finished Sean’s old beans…” Tears filled in Jonathan’s eyes, the smell of the coffee beans bringing forth these ancient memories as if it happened just a day ago.

  “Why, Hon, why did you have to leave me? And why did you make me promise to stay? I could be with you now. All I needed to do was swallow a few pills, and we could still have been together. But no, you made me promise. Promise you to stay and look after our family, as if they aren’t capable of doing that on their own. And who’s looking after me? Huh? Who takes care of me?”

  As Jonathan’s grief transformed to rage, he glared unseeing at the coffee machine, which had done its job as efficiently as ever. It was just an innocent machine, incapable of providing the answers Jonathan so desperately sought, but he hated it for reminding him of his loss, that he was still here.

  “I’m so alone. What am I going to do? Tell me that, Hon. What am I going to do with the rest of my life? I’m too old to start anew, I’m too old to date, and besides, how could I even dream of replacing you, my love?” Jonathan looked up at the ceiling again, tears itching as they streamed down his cheeks. “Jeez, I love you so much, and I miss you. Why, why did you have to leave me? I am nothing without you…”

  The realization of the loss finally broke through a barrier within, and he sank to the floor, onto his aching knees, sobbing, pouring out his loss and his heartache, his sorrow.

  ***

  Jonathan didn’t know how long he’d been there on the kitchen floor. He hadn’t heard the doorbell, or maybe he had, but his consciousness was too absorbed by the sorrow and the memories washing over to register. He hadn’t realized anyone had entered the kitchen, either, until he was lifted from the floor.

  “Grandpa? Are you all right? Do you need me to call a doctor?”

  Jonathan looked up and into Parker’s worried face. There was so much of Dan in the boy. Jeanette—Parker’s mother—was biologically Dan’s daughter, because they had to make a choice between them, and Jonathan felt it was more important for Dan to be the father than it was for him. He’d figured they might have a third child, and that it would then be his turn. It never happened, but Jonathan had no regrets, or not about that.

  He loved Jeanette every bit as much as Dan did, and never once made her feel as if she was his less than Dan’s. But inwardly, as he noticed the physical resemblance between father and daughter, he sometimes wished he’d have a chance to pass down his genes. The Bates’ blood line would end with his death: his name, his DNA gone, forever. Back then, when he’d married Dan, the wounds from his parents’ deed were still strong; Grandma Bates was still around and well, and he’d wanted nothing to do with the family. Giving up his name had been a given, even though “Jackson” was hardly an uncommon name. But he took it gladly and never regretted it.

  When the kids grew up and began to ask questions about their heritage, Jonathan and Dan had explained to them, over time, the story of how they’d gotten to know each other, how they had fallen in love, and the events that had led to Jonathan’s parents’ deaths. They even once flew out west, to the old Bates’ farm—sold long ago to a local farmer—to show them Jonathan’s roots. They’d visited the cemetery, where Jonathan’s father was buried next to his ill-fated lover. It was a strange trip, Jonathan recalled, more so for him, as it brought back memories he’d almost forgotten. Oppressed, maybe? He’d been glad that Dan had been there, by his side as always, through all of it.

  Oddly, Dan’s own family was distant as well, and there was no contact with his parents or siblings. Nothing. Ever. When they were still a new couple,
Jonathan had sometimes asked, but Dan hadn’t answered his questions. They had never spoken of his family, and Jonathan knew better than to pry, so he accepted Dan’s decision. There were times it had saddened him that their children didn’t get to know their grandparents, but at least for a few years, their friends Dennis and Parker were sort of surrogate grandparents. They’d loved the kids every bit as much as if they’d been their own and had taken them under their wing, as they had taken on Dan and Jonathan. And even though there was a professional aspect to their relationship, with Parker overseeing Jonathan’s inheritance from his mom, the four men had developed a deep friendship that lasted for as long as they were alive.

  Dennis had already been retired when they’d met him, and his passing had come as a shock to the Jackson family. Rick was barely eighteen at the time, and Jeanette four years his junior. Parker had been devastated by the loss of his husband, Jonathan recalled. How well he understood that loss now.

  “Grandpa?” Parker Jr. tried again, his voice full of worry. “Are you okay?”

  Slowly, Jonathan came back to this reality and nodded. “Yeah, son, I’m all right. Just memories. It’s all I have left, memories.”

  “Come, have a seat at the table. I’ll make you some breakfast.” Parker helped Jonathan into a chair. “That coffee is ice cold. How long had you been lying there? Did you fall?” Parker poured the liquid down the drain and started a fresh cup.

  Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know how long. What time is it?”

  “It’s seven thirty. I couldn’t sleep and figured I wanted to talk to you. I had a hunch you’d be up. You and Granddad were never much for sleeping late.” Parker smiled.