Trouble-Maker

I pulled up across the street from a cozy white house. I grabbed the written down address from the dashboard and looked it over. The scrawled letters matched the address on the garage of the house.

I grabbed my bag and climbed out of my car. I pulled the strap over my head so that it ran across my chest, and I stuck my cell phone inside the pocket under the flap. I stepped around the car and crossed the street slowly since there weren't any cars on this neighborhood street. I walked up the driveway and then took the walkway to the front door.

I knocked on the front door cautiously, knowing that Arch was inside.

The door was pulled open a few moments later and an orange haired lady stood on the other side with a young girl in her arms. "Hello," she said as she pushed the screen door open, "Can I help you?"

I nodded my head and tucked my dark hair back. "Lyla Ains gave me this address," I told her, "I'm a friend of Arch's. I came to see how he's doing." I bit my lip nervously and trailed my eyes over the little girl.

"My name is Olivia Harris," she greeted, shuffling the baby to her other arm so that she could reach her hand out for me to shake. "Arch is in his room. Why don't come on it and I'll go get him." She pushed the screen door open wider so that I could slid through.

"Thank you," I said as we walked into the living room of their house.

She set the little girl on the ground and adjusted the child's flowery skirt and tights. "I'll go get him, wait right here." She turned on her heel and headed around the corner.

I smiled to the girl who had to be younger than three. I knew that the Harris' only had a son of their own, so this little girl had to be their other foster child. I crouched down and waved to the girl. "Hello," I said softly, smiling, "What's your name?"

She looked me over but didn't say anything.

I looked up quickly as a man came into the room with a friendly smile on his face. "That's Georgia," he said nicely, "She doesn't talk much."

I stood up and reached for the man's hand. "I'm Atticus," I said, "I forgot to mention that to your wife."

He nodded. "I'm Will," he replied. He motioned towards their couch and asked me to have a seat. I sat down on the edge and kept my eyes on the little girl.

"So, how do you know Arch?" Will questioned from where he sat across from me.

I looked up to meet his gaze. "I babysat him," I replied.

"Did you know his mother well?"

I shook my head. "No," I said, "I worked at a daycare. I never really talked to Mrs. Drewry directly."

He nodded his head like he understood. "Do you know why she gave Arch up?" he questioned, "We weren't really told much."

I sighed and ran my fingers through my dark hair. When I looked back up to Will, he looked genuinely concerned. "Arch's father was in the Military. He died over seas."

Will's hand covered his mouth as shock set in. "I had no idea," he murmured.

I looked up as I heard Arch's voice. I grinned and reached my arms out for the little boy as he flew into them and wrapped his own around my waist. I rested my chin on hid head and held on tightly.

"I missed you," Arch murmured against my stomach.

"Are you okay?" I questioned, pushing him back so that I could look him in the face.

He looked up to me with big blue eyes.

"Are you okay?" I asked again, looking over his head as Olivia and Will sat together on the couch across from us.

Arch nodded his head. "I'm okay," he replied, "There's a lot of toys here,"

I nodded, too and grabbed his hand. I looked to the Harris'. "Do you mind if I talk to him alone?" I questioned, standing up from the couch, "We're going to go outside and sit in the grass."

Both of the Harris' nodded automatically. "Please," Mr. Harris said, "You can talk here if you want, we have to go check on our son anyways."

"I'd still like to go outside," I said politely, "It's very nice out and I have some things that I'd like to explain to Arch."

Arch looked up to me with confused eyes but I just squeezed his hand tightly and lead him outside to the front yard. I pulled him down onto the grass next to me and bit my lip. I didn't know how I was going to tell him that I was leaving for a few months. I didn't know how to explain that tour was pulling me away from him.

"Arch," I said softly, "In a couple weeks, I'm not going to be able to visit you for awhile."

Arch looked up to me. "Why not?" he asked, his blue eyes confused.

I sighed and traced my fingers over his cheek. "Well, Ronnie has to go on tour for work and I'm going with him, Honey," I said softly, rubbing my thumb over his rosy cheek.

"Do you have to?" Arch questioned desperately, "Can't you stay here with me?"

I pulled him to me and wrapped my arms around his little shoulders. He climbed onto me and stood in my lap, his chin against my shoulder. "I'm still going to be here for you, Honey," I said softly, holding onto him tightly, "You can call me whenever you need me."

"But I want you to stay with me," he whispered, "I don't know them."

I rubbed his back gently. "They seem like nice people, Arch," I murmured in return, "And there are a lot of toys."

He shook his head unhappily. "But Georgia and Tommie are babies. There's no one to play with," he murmured, sounding years older than his mere four.

"I'm sorry, Honey," I said honestly, "When I get back, I'll see what I can do for you but I'm sure that you'll love it here by then."

He shook his head again and wrapped his little arms tighter around my neck. I wrapped mine even tighter around his torso and held him to me.

"I don't want you to leave," he whispered.

I closed my eyes and wished for him. I wished that everything would be okay for him and that he would fall in love with the people around him. I pulled him away from me and showed him my smile. "Why don't we go inside so that I can talk to Will and Olivia, yeah?"

Arch didn't want to, but he nodded his head anyways and stepped away from me so that I could clamber to my feet. I took his hand and mine and let him lead me back into the house.

"Can I show you my new room?" he asked, looking up to me as we entered the living room.

"You'll have to ask Olivia and Will," I told him, "but I think that they'll be okay with it."

He nodded his head. "They're with Tommie," he said as he tried to drag me around the corner, "But Tommie's room is across from mine."

"Lets go see your room then," I said softly, motioning for him to show me the way.

He grinned happily and pulled me around the corner and through the tiled kitchen that led to a long hallway with five doors. Most of the white doors were pulled shut but two were open.

"That's Tommie's room," Arch said.

I glanced into the lightened room and saw Olivia sitting in a rocking chair with a small boy in her arms. It reminded me of the daycare which caused me to smile. As Arch dragged me into his new room, she looked up from the baby's face and smiled me.

I smiled in return before I turned my attention to the decent sized room that I was sitting in. The walls were the lightest shade of blue that I'd ever seen. Against the right wall was a twin sized bed with generic blue blankets and white pillows. The closet took up the whole left wall and I could see that there was already toys spilling out of it.

"They bought them for me," Arch said with a grin as he sat down on the edge of his low bed, "They wanted me to feel special."

I sat down next to him and looked around the room. It was a good room for a little boy. It wasn't entirely bland but instead it was homy and made me feel comfortable. "Do you like your room?" I asked, looking to Arch.

He nodded. "Yes."

I looked at the bare wall above his bed. "Are you going to hang up any pictures?" I questioned.

Arch nodded again and moved to the small desk that was pushed up against the wall next to the door. Arch pulled open the drawer of the wooden desk and pulled out a small picture. He carried it like it was the most fragile thing in the world and laid it in my lap.

I picked it up gingerly and my breath caught in my throat. It was a simple picture of a man in his military uniform. From what I could tell from the image he'd just returned back in America from war. He stood outside an airplane with his bags forgotten at his feet as he held his son in his arms.

"Your dad," I said simply, looking at the image of the crying man. His eyes were so stunningly similar to Arch's that I couldn't help but let out a gasp as I noticed them.

Arch nodded quickly. "When he got back from protecting people," he replied, looking over my shoulder at the frayed picture. "Will said he would blow it up so I hid it in my drawer." Arch's eyes were wide as he thought about the literal meaning.

I chuckled and shook my head. "Arch, Honey," I murmured, "That means that he's going to make a big copy of it. Maybe so you can hang it on your wall about your bed."

Arch pursed his little lips and asked, "So he's not going to break it?"

I shook my head and ruffled the child's hair. "No, Honey, he would never do anything like that to your picture."

A smile came over Arch's face. "Well, can you blow it up now? I want to put it on the wall."

I chuckled. "I think you should ask Will to do it for you, Honey. I think he'd like to do that for you."

Arch frowned but nodded his head anyways. He slid off of the bed and carefully grabbed the picture from my fingers. Instead of sticking it back in his desk he set in leaning against the lamp on his bedside table.

"I'll bring you a picture frame tomorrow," I said thoughtfully, "For you to keep that in."

Arch nodded eagerly. "Really?" he asked as he climbed back up to sit next to me.

I nodded. "I'll drop it off during my lunch tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay!" Arch said quickly. Then he stopped and asked, "Do you have to leave now?"

I shook my head and watched his eyes light up. "I'm going to see if I can talk to Will and Olivia, alright? Why don't you pick out your favorite new toys so that you can show me when we're done talking."

Arch slid off of the bed and rushed to his closet. He sat on his knees and started rifling through the mounds of plastic.

"I'll be back," I said softly as I got to my feet.

"Okay."

I walked out of his room and peaked across the hall. Olivia was standing next to her son's crib, staring down at the child as he moved and fussed before falling back to sleep. When I leaned against the doorframe slightly, Olivia looked up to me.

She smiled. "Can I help you with something?"

I nodded my head. "I was wondering if I could talk to you and your husband about something," I told her, making it sound like a question.

She reached down and ran her fingers over her baby's cheek before she murmured, "Sure," and walked in my direction, "We can talk in the living room."

I nodded my head and let her lead me back out there, even though I knew the way now. When we got out there Will sat on the couch with little Georgia in his lap while the two of them watched some show on TV.

"Atticus would like to talk to us, Will," Olivia said with a smile, "Why don't you go play, Georgie."

I shook my head. "She can stay if she wants," I said before the little girl could climb out of her foster-father's lap, "It's just about my plans."

"Your plans?" Will repeated as he situated the little girl on his lap.

I nodded. "Yes, I leave out of town in about twelve days and I won't be back for about two months, save for a rare date right in the middle. But I was hoping you would allow Arch to contact me when he feels he needs me," I told them, folding my hands in my lap.

"We would never stop him from speaking with you, Atticus," Olivia said, her voice strong and understanding, "A child needs to keep some familiar ties to his past. It makes the transition slightly easier." She reached out and fiddled with Georgia's hair nervously.

Will nodded his head in agreement. "Of course he can talk to you while you're gone," he said, "But may I ask why you are going out of town for such a long time. Is it for work? I thought you were a daycare provider."

I replied, "I am. But my boyfriend is in a popular band and he is going on tour for most of the summer and seeing as this is his first tour, I've been asked to go with him for the summer." I bit my lip nervously and hoped they didn't think bad about me for choosing a tour over a vulnerable child. "If the arrangements hadn't already been made for me to go along. I would've stayed here to make sure Arch is okay."

They stopped me by nodding their heads enthusiastically. "You can't cancel your life because of this. It will be better for Arch is everyone's lives continue as normal. He'll adjust better," Will said with a firm nod.

"We think it's wonderful that you care enough about Arch to check in on him," Olivia added, "Most children don't have anyone like that."

I shrugged my shoulders. "He's a great kid. He deserves better than what's been handed to him."

"Will all respect," Will murmured, "If you care for him so much, why haven't you decided to adopt him as your own?"

"I'm just 24," I replied, "I have so much to do with my life before I settle down and have children. My lifestyle isn't stable enough for a child, yet. I'm going to be on the road for the next two to three months and I would have to change everything about my life to accommodate Arch, and it still would never be the normal life he deserves," I said softly, knowing how different it would be compared to what he was used to. He would constantly be in the spot light before of my father's father and Ronnie's.

"Because of your boyfriend's band?" Olivia questioned, honestly interested.

I nodded. "That and my father's."

"Your father has a band, too?" Will asked, slightly shocked.

"Yes," I said, "And a major record label that acquires quite a bit of press."

"Maybe I've heard of it," Will said, "I used to listen to a lot of music."

I smiled. I was pretty sure that everyone had heard of my father's band. "Bad Religion is my dad's band and Epitaph is his label."

Recognition crossed their features and they both nodded. Will grinned. "Bad Religion," he said with a laugh, "I don't live under a rock."

I laughed, too. I was thankful that Arch's foster parents were good people. I had heard many horror stories about people who took in children. Most ran through my head on my way to this house. "So," I said, "What caused you to become foster parents?"