“Foster parents? That blows.” Patrick scoffed as he stretched out on his couch, balancing a Red Stripe on his stomach very carefully, sipping it through a long, lime green crazy straw.

“And they’re mean to her, Patrick.” Jon added as he paced in his best friend’s living room the day after he finally confronted Jordyn on the street.

“She told you that?” Patrick asked, quirking his eyebrow up at Jon who looked absolutely beside himself seeing as he had been pacing in his apartment for the past forty-five minutes.

“Well, no, but kind of, I mean, she told me about this girl Matilda and her super powers and Ms. Honey…” Jon’s brain felt scrambled inside his skull, still trying to make sense of the conversation he had with Jordyn.

“I know that movie.” Patrick added casually, earning an odd look from Jon. “Three sisters.” He stated, giving Jon a pointed look, causing his captain to nod absentmindedly.

“Well she compared herself to that girl.” Jon added. “Fuck, Patrick, what do I do? She was so different, she wasn’t herself.” He thought aloud.

“I honestly have no idea.” Patrick answered honestly. “I mean what can you do, Jon? You gonna get a lawyer or something? Let’s get real.” Patrick sighed.

“You think I should?” Jon asked, pausing mid-step to look down at his friend who looked back at him, eyes bulging and mouth agape.

“What do I know, Jon? I can’t make decisions! Fuck! Even Sara lays out my clothes for me the night before! How am I supposed to know if you should get a lawyer?! What are you thinking? Are you going to adopt her or what?!” Patrick had a mild freak out.

“Sara lays out your clothes?” Jon tilted his head at Patrick, raising an eyebrow as Patrick sat up, setting his beer on the glass coffee table in front of him.

“That is irrelevant. Jon, maybe you should call your mom? I mean, who would know better than Andree?” He asked, slumping into the couch, hastily reaching for his cell phone on the table and texting Sara. Jon nodded absentmindedly, finding that he was walking toward the chair, sitting on the edge as he pulled out his cell phone.

Can you call me when you have time? It’s important. He sent the text off to his mother who would call him back regardless seeing as she hated to text to begin with.

“I’m gonna go head back to my place.” He sighed, standing up, looking around for a moment, grabbing his beer from the coffee table and heading towards the door. He opted for the elevator over the stairs, deciding that with all of the things swirling through his mind, he couldn’t be trusted to put one foot in front of the other accurately. Walking into his apartment, he could see Jordyn all around. He saw them in the kitchen, her instructing him from atop the counter as he tried to put together homemade spaghetti sauce for the first time. He saw her at the dining table, slaving over her hated math workbook. He saw her napping quietly on the couch, relaxing after a long day of school.

Jonathan jumped as his phone began to ring in his hand.

“Mom.” He breathed as soon as he answered, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

“Jon? What’s the matter? Tout va bien?” His mother’s familiar and comforting voice made him feel better even from so many miles away.

“Je ne sais pas, maman.” He sighed, already running a hand through his hair. “I’ve gotten myself into quite the situation.” He leaned up against the kitchen counter, taking another drink of the Red Stripe he stole from Patrick’s apartment.

“Are you physically okay? Is everyone alright? Mon Dieu, Patrick didn’t do something stupid again, did he? He hasn’t hit anyone?” She asked, earning a small, entertained smile from her son.

“No, no, nothing like that.” He shook his head.

“Is this about… a girl?” She asked, making his cheeks warm. His mother never pressured him about a girlfriend, but he knew she was ready for him to settle down, get married and give her lots of grandchildren.

“Well, yes.” Jon tossed the idea around in his head. “But… she’s eleven.” He sputtered out, wondering how in the world he was going to explain this.

“Jonathan, je ne comprends pas.” Andree replied, sounding thoroughly confused. “What is this all about?”

“This girl Mom, well, it sounds bad, but through… a series of events, she’s come into my life, and she has this terrible living situation, les pires absolue. She’s in foster care, her foster parents treat her terribly, she’s underfed, she has no clothes to wear, she talks about being emancipated, séparé from her foster parents when she’s sixteen.” He exhaled, wondering if she was understanding what he was trying to convey.

“Oh quelle horreur!” Andree gasped. “Have you told anyone Jonathan? Have you gotten her help?” She asked, pressing him for information.

“Maman, the thing is, I want to do something about it.” Jonathan replied, having a tiny realization. “I’ve spend a substantial amount of time with her and, well, I want to keep doing that. I want to be someone she can depend on.” He brought a hand up to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut as the words tumbled from his mouth.

“Oh mon cœur, mon bébe,” Andree gushed. “Jonathan… I guess I don’t understand what you want to do, bless your heart, we’ve raised you so well that you want to do this, but you really need to think. Baby, you’re not home a lot, you live a very busy lifestyle… I supposed what I’m asking is, are you trying to adopt this girl? Are you trying to become a foster parent?” Andree really wanted him to understand the gravity of the situation.

“No Mom, I know, I know I’m busy a lot, but if you saw her like I saw her… you’ve just got to know that I need to get her out of that house as quickly as possible. They starve her, Maman.” He stressed, a sick stone settling in the pit of his stomach. “I want her home with me, Maman, ou je sais qu’elle set sans danger.” He finished.

Andree was silent for a moment and he knew that she probably had just as many things running through her head as he did. “How can I not support you, Jonathan, vous faites la bonne chose.” She sighed.

“I was thinking that soon maybe I could bring her home, show her what a real family looks like.” Jon suggested quietly. “Then you can see what I see. She’s so smart, Maman, and she works so hard, and she receives nothing in return. I look at the way she is living and I compare it to the way I was raised, and I know that I have to do something. There’s just something about her… I’ve been sunk.” He laughed lightly.

“You know I would love nothing more than that.” Andree replied. “Do you want me to get in touch with Terry?” She asked, speaking of Jonathan’s lawyer.

“Non, I can do it.” Jon sighed. “I’m going to try and speak to her one more time before I go see her, just to maybe let her in on what I’ve already decided.” He nodded subtly.

Jonathan bid his mother goodbye and looked over to the clock. Two-thirty, he still had time to get over to her neighborhood and hopefully catch Jordyn walking back from school.


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“What the fuck.” Jonathan breathed, running his hands through his hair before slamming them both on the steering wheel. It turns out the last time Jon had caught Jordyn walking home from school, it was the [i]last[/i] day of school. He had been canvassing Jordyn’s neighborhood, praying for a glimpse of her, but he had been coming up short.

Four days had passed and as Jon sat in his car, slowly driving up and down the streets, stuffing his face with a sub from Jimmy John’s as his dark brown eyes scanned up and down the rows of houses. He’d hate to be so obvious as to park outside her home, but he kept a keen eye on it from the next block over.

It was starting to get dark and once again, Jon was feeling utterly hopeless, he was a few moments away from marching up to that crap-shack and pounding the door down. He had just flipped his engine to life, the headlights illuminating the street when he noticed some movement.

His stomach leapt up into his heart as he watched Jordan scoot around from the back of the house to the side before taking a clear shot across her neighbor’s front yard to the street, pulling her hood up and shoving her hands into her jean pockets as she neared Jon’s car. He killed the engine, throwing his door open and meeting her halfway into the street.

“Jon.” She breathed, startling him as she flung her arms around his middle, tugging painfully at his heartstrings. She then stepped back and slapped his side. “Do you know how obvious you’ve been? Jeez.” She quickly straightened up.

“Where have you been, then?” He asked, handing her the sub he brought for her, he took a guess with the turkey, but who doesn’t like turkey? He watched as she unwrapped it, salivating for a moment before digging in.

“I can’t leave the house anymore unless they’re home, and even when they’re home I have to stay in the backyard. But there’s a lot of broken glass back there, so I don’t like to go out.” She explained through a mouthful of bread.

“Come on, come sit.” Jon insisted, ushering back to his car. God, she looked thin. Her cheeks looked hollowed and eyes were dull, not the way a little girl her age was supposed to look. She crawled into the passengers seat and he turned the radio down to a low lull as they ate their subs together quietly. “Here, drink.” He insisted, handing her a carton of milk, also from the sandwich shop.

“I hate milk.” She crinkled her nose at the cardboard container.

“Drink it anyway.” Jon shrugged, to which she nodded and chugged it all down in a straight shot.

“Ugh.” She groaned, grabbing at her stomach. “Too fast.” She whined, looking at Jon with a small smile.

“Look, Jordyn…” He sighed, looking out the window for a moment. “What would you say if I said I could get you out of there.” He tilted his head towards the house she came from. Jordyn looked at him questioningly for a moment and nodded softly. “Because I can, Jordyn, I can get you out of here, you just say the word.” He turned to face her full on. He couldn’t comprehend how quickly and swiftly the girl had captured his heart. “Would you… want me to do that?” He asked as she polished off the rest of her sandwich. She paused, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth before staring back at him just as intensely. There was a pregnant silence before Jordan broke it.

“Please.” The desperation in his voice broke his heart and he nodded curtly. He handed her another carton of milk and she looked back up at him wearily.

“For me.” He insisted, knowing that right now, even a small carton of milk would be doing her a world of good. She drank it down, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her same sweatshirt that he last saw her in. He would have to have Sara take her to get a few more clothes, clothes that were clean and that fit her properly. He got out of the car the same time that she did, walking around to the other side of the truck, looking down at her. And for the first time, she seemed… insecure. She took him by surprise yet again as she stepped into him, wrapping her tiny arms around his midsection, pressing her face into his warm body.

“Jon?” She asked, looking up at him with her big, sad eyes. He looked down, meeting her gaze. “Hurry.” She plead. He nodded, cradling her head as they embraced for that single moment. She looked around, watching the streetlights come on, and it was if someone had flipped a switch. She waved very discreetly and darted back down the block, disappearing between the houses and slipping to the backyard of the Fogley’s home.

Not an hour later was Jon pulling up to the luxurious high rise of buildings where his lawyer sat in a gorgeous dark oak office. Terry Goldblum looked rather surprised to see Mr. Toews, most of the work he had done for him regarding contracts and endorsements had been handled through his manager, and even then, over the phone and through relation of emails.

“Mr. Toews, what can I do for you today?” Terry asked, shaking the young captain’s hand firmly before Jon could take a seat across from his wide desk covered with photos of family and a rolodex of contacts.

“What do I need to do to gain custody of a child who is currently in foster care?”

Notes

here's chapter 5
glad you are liking it :)
xo