Infinite

Ronnie and I got dressed as quickly as we could after we hung up from Arch. We didn’t know why they needed us to come down if he wasn’t the one hurt, but we did so anyway because of the way he sounded. Ronnie drove as I sat with my feet on the seat and my arms wrapped around my knees. Even though Arch had told us that he wasn’t hurt in the least, I was still nervous. In the pit of my stomach, I knew that something wasn’t right.

The hospital wasn’t too far from the house and we were grateful that it didn't take long to get there, but it was busy and trying to park was overwhelming. I cursed quietly as we climbed out of the car . Each dressed in baggy sweats and an oversized hoodie, Ronnie and I walked into the building with our hands clasped together, heading straight for the front desk.

“We’re looking for a patient named Tommie Harris,” I said, pressing one palm against the top of the counter-like desk, “He's just a few months old and he's here with his parents. He was injured at a park today, I don't really know.”

The woman in the chair clicked a few things on her computer and then looked up at us, pushing her overgrown hair over her shoulder. “Are you two family?” she asked, looking almost suspiciously at us, “I’m not sure if the Harris’ want to see anyone right now and I can't authorize you without their permission.”

“We’re here for their foster son,” I explained quickly and almost annoyed, “His social worker called and said she needed us to come get him, so if you’d just give us the location of the room, we can let Olivia and Will be alone with their kids.”

She pressed her dark lips together in a fine line and then told us they were on the third floor, room 312. Ronnie thanked her softly as I pulled him over to the elevator just down the hall. We quickly got in before it closed and I tightened my grip on Ronnie’s hand, wondering what it could be about and where Arch was.

“Do you think they’re giving him up?” I asked Ronnie, glancing at his solemn face and unable to keep myself from saying it out loud, “He wouldn’t be able to take that.”

Ronnie shook his head. “Will and Olivia love Arch,” he denied, “They wouldn’t get rid of him just because their son got hurt today. Arch didn’t have anything to do with it. He said it was an accident.”

I pressed my arm against Ronnie’s side and nodded. “You’re right.” I didn’t glance at the other woman in the elevator with us. I wasn’t sure if she had any idea what we were talking about. Even to me it seemed as if we were talking about a child like he was some kind of animal who had bitten a child.

“There,” Ronnie said as we stepped out of the elevator. I followed his gaze to the left and sighed in relief when I saw Arch sitting in a chair next to Ms. Lyla Ains. “He looks fine.”

Ronnie was right. Despite red eyes from crying, he didn’t look injured at all. I smiled in relief and pulled Ronnie down the hall, his fingers nervously twisting the ring on my finger, even though he promised it would all be okay. “Arch,” I called as we got close. The boy looked up from his lap and when he saw that it was us, pushed himself out of his chair and started towards us, his tennis shoes slapping against the floor.

“Atticus, Ronnie!” he shouted, not caring about the nurses at the desk who looked up at the sound of his voice. The five year old literally jumped into my arms, and I caught him easily, pulling him up against my chest as he wrapped his arms around my neck.

“What happened?” I asked, practically squeezing the life out of him, “Are you okay?”

Arch nodded against my neck and shoulder, not daring to let go of the grip he had on me unless I was handing him over to Ronnie. I caught Ms. Lyla’s eye and carried the boy back over to her, Ronnie by my side.

“What happened?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest, “Why are you here and why are we?”

The social worker smoothed down her blazer and darted her eyes towards Arch, who was facing the opposite direction in my arms. “Perhaps one of you can come with me and talk,” she suggested.

“Yeah,” Ronnie and I said simultaneously then turned to look at each other. Both of us realized that the other wanted to be present, so I turned and walked between Ronnie and the woman to kneel in front of the row of chairs. “Arch, I need you to sit here and wait for us. We’ll be right back,” I stated, setting him on the gray-upholstered hospital waiting room chair.

He looked at me with scared blue eyes and then turned them to Ronnie. “Where are you going?” he asked, grabbing my hand so I couldn’t leave him, “Why can’t I come with?” He moved to slide off of the seat but I stopped him.

“We’re just going down the hall to talk,” I comforted, pushing him back up into the chair, “Just stay here and we’ll be back.” I picked him up and set him back in his chair, squeezing his fingers reassuringly.

He was about to ask another question, but I shook my head at him and pulled my hand from his. I stood up and motioned for Ms. Lyla to lead the way down the hall. Ronnie look my left hand with his right and together we followed her, more nervous than ever.

When we were more than halfway down the hall, she turned around to face us, Arch visible just behind us. “I’m upset that I have to tell you this,” she started, pressing her hands into her sides, “but the Harris’ are planning on sending Arch to another foster home and I’m afraid he isn’t so lucky this time.”

I know I looked stunned, because she sighed softly and shook her head. “It has really nothing to do with what happened this morning,” she continued, “but Olivia and Will explained to me that they felt ready to start their family with Georgia and didn’t feel as though continuing to take care of Arch was the right move for them as a whole.”

“Well, where the hell is he going?” Ronnie asked abruptly, staring at the woman, “How is it that people can just get rid of kids whenever they want, shouldn’t there be some regulations? This has happened to him before, what do you think is going to happen if he finds out that they don’t want him either?”

“Ronnie, please calm down,” Lyla replied, “I don’t like it either and I expressed all those concerns to the Harris’, but they’re doing what’s right for them as a family, not for Arch and there’s really nothing more we can do about it.” She rubbed her hands over her face. It was obvious she wasn’t happy about any of this either. Like me, her heart was breaking for the abandoned kid sitting down the hall.

“What I walked to talk to you both about was temporarily fostering Arch until I can find him somewhere else to go,” she cut right to the chase, “Right now he’s looking at Welsh Children’s Home here in Los Angeles, which is, honestly, out of space for any more kids. They’re having a lot of problems accommodating the ones they already have, so I can’t guarantee the kind of love and attention that Arch needs, or even his own space to sleep."

I squeezed Ronnie's hand, hating the image of Arch lost among a group of other parentless children. I didn't know what group homes were like, but what Lyla described them like made me feel like I was going to throw up. I didn't want Arch in a place like that and I couldn't stand the thought of Will and Olivia doing this to him.

"They won't keep him until there's somewhere better for him to go?" I asked desperately, "I mean, if they know where he's going to end up, why would they force him to go there?"

"Atticus, I've already spoken with them and that's not a possibility," Lyla answered, ashamed to even be saying it, "I wish there was more I could do for him, but Welsh is the only place willing to accept him."

Ronnie cursed noticeably and shook his head. He pulled away from me and grumbled loudly. "I can't fucking believe this," he said, shaking his head at the whole idea. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back before he could catch Arch's attention and upset him more.

"Atticus, I was hoping the two of you would look after him until I can find him a family setting again,” she continued, “With two parents, like Will and Olivia, who can give him personal attention like the two of you do. You’re not certified, but there are special circumstances, so I’m sure we could work something out.”

I would’ve been quick to agree, but I’d learned not to make decisions without Ronnie’s input and seeing as we had under a month until he’d be leaving, I wanted to know what he thought. I turned to face him slowly, my hand in his. “What do you say?” I asked, glancing to my left to see Arch as he watched us converse.

Ronnie cursed under his breath again and ran his fingers through his hair. He and I wanted the same thing for Arch, we just didn't want it to come to this. “This is such shitty timing,” he muttered unhappily, “How could they do this to him now?”

“Or at all,” I added offhandedly before turning back to Lyla. “You didn’t give us much time to decide,” I stated, “There’s so much going on right now, I don’t know how much attention we could give him either.”

“Surely it’s more than a staff could,” she responded, tugging on my heartstrings, “I know I’m putting you both on the spot, but the Harris’ just called me a little while ago and told me what they’re feeling, with them relinquishing his care, I had only two options.”

“Ronnie, we have to,” I whispered, not hating the idea, but hating the circumstances, “It wouldn't be permanent, just until she can find him somewhere loving to go.”

Lyla nodded her head to second that statement.

“Look at him, Ron,” I said so low that the social worker wouldn’t be able to hear. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him to me, my chin against his chest and my eyes pleading, “Just look at him. We can’t leave him knowing that’s he’s going somewhere that a staff will look after him. He needs a family.”

“We can’t be that kind of family, Atticus,” Ronnie whispered into my hair, “We’re not cut out to foster a child, even temporarily. He’s going to need to go to school soon, and be fed three times a day, and play outside, and be picked up from school. You don’t even get off until four and my schedule is always changing.”

“It’s temporary,” I replied, holding him tighter, “We’ll make it work. We can enroll him in daycare and I can take him to work with me when he can't and you can make him take naps during band practice.”

“It’ll only be for a couple months, at the most,” Lyla said, clasping her hands together, “Then we’ll get him set up with a family that will look after him instead."

“Why can’t you get him a real family?” I asked, turning around in Ronnie’s arms, “Why can’t you find someone to adopt him instead of just take care of him?”

“Not many families turn to the foster system, honestly,” she replied, “and those who do are looking for babies. Arch is five already and very mature for his age. Couples want infants and toddlers who can almost seamlessly be integrated into their families.”

“Arch is a challenge, we all know that,” I said frustratedly, “but there has to be someone out there who wants a five year old with gorgeous blue eyes and genius capabilities.”

“I’ve found none the entire time he was with the Harris’.”

We all turned that direction as Arch greeted his foster mom. He was still unaware that she didn’t want to take care of him anymore and he quickly got up to hug her. “Olivia, is Tommie okay?” he asked, looking at her with big blue eyes, “I’ve been so worried. Ms. Lyla even called Ronnie and Atti to make me feel better.”

I closed my eyes lightly at the sound of his love for that family. “We have to take him, Ron,” I demanded, “You’re leaving in a couple weeks anyways. It’ll just be him and me. I’ve been taking care of kids my entire life.”

Ronnie just nodded, not even wanting to disagree with me. Olivia Harris looked down the hall to us and looked ashamed at what she did, but not enough to change her mind. She patted Arch’s back and directed him back to his chair before she headed to us.

“Ronnie, Atticus,” she greeted, offering an almost sad smile, “I’m glad you could be here for him.”

I didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to him,” I accused, wanting to hit the woman, “This is exactly what he went through before and you’re putting him through it again. Once again I have to pick up the pieces for an adultbreaking his heart, Olivia.”

She looked like a deer caught in the headlights and took a nervous step back. “Atticus, I’m sorry, but I’m only doing what’s right for my family. I didn't know it would come to this."

“You didn’t become a foster parent to do for you, you did it to help hurt kids who need someone to love them, and what, now that doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“I’m pregnant, Atticus,” she blurted, looking between the three sets of eyes that were staring at her, two with disdain, “Once the new baby gets here, we won’t have room for Arch. We didn’t think we could have another of our own, but it’s a miracle and we’re taking it as a sign that god wants us to have a family, a certifiable one. When we first took Arch in, we intended on possibly adopting him someday, but he's not right for us, and now with a baby, we can't remain focused on him.”

“We’re leaving now,” I stated, brushing her off with nothing else to say to her, “We’ll be at your house tomorrow at one to get all of Arch’s things." I turned around and paused only when she spoke up.

“Atticus, you can’t, we’re really-”

“I don’t care,” I muttered, staring her down, “They’re Arch’s things and we’re coming to get them. We’ll see you tomorrow at one, so you better be there and you better open the door and have his things, all of them, packed and ready to go.”

Ms. Lyla followed Ronnie and I down the hall when we went back to the confused five year old. I reached for his hand with my free one and pulled him out of the chair. “Come on, Arch, we’re going home,” I said, not sparing a glance at Olivia as she headed back towards her son’s hospital room.

“What? Why am I not going with Olivia and Will?” he asked, trying to stop me from pulling him down the quiet hallway. When I didn’t spot, he tried to yank his hand free. “Atticus, stop!”

I sighed because I didn’t want to have this conversation here. “I’ll tell you when we get home,” I promised, reaching for his hand again, “So, lets just get out of here.”

Arch spared a glance towards the door where Olivia went and then nodded once, agreeing to come with us. He got silent as we walked out of the hospital with his social worker and I figured that he guessed what was happened to him again. When we got down to the first floor I pulled the sad boy into my arms, flattening his puffer jacket against his back.

“I’ll be in touch with you guys, soon,” Lyla Ains promised, gingerly touching Arch’s back as he buried his face in the crook of my neck.

Ronnie reached over and took the boy from me so that I could pull Lyla away one final time. Arch wrapped his arms around Ronnie’s neck and the two of them headed to the Escalade so Arch could climb into the back.

“I hope there are no regulations,” I said, not sure how else to word it, “Arch’s schedule is going to have to be really flexible while he’s with us and I don’t want that to be a problem.”

The social worker shook her head. “It won’t be,” she promised, “The system is touchy, but when it comes to putting a child like Arch in a place like Welsh, we all just want what is best for him, and that’s you two, so you do what you have to while looking after him.” She smiled and added, “And maybe you’ll even want to become certified.”

“I don’t think Ronnie and I have the requirements to become certified foster parents,” I denied, chuckling at her, “Our schedule is too hectic.”

We finished our conversation and said goodbye. She was heading back inside the hospital to tell the Harris’ that they no longer had Arch in their care. I tried not to think about them while I helped Ronnie alter Nico's carseat to accommodate Arch. Then we both got in and I turned around to smile at the little boy.

“Looks like it’s just the three of us for a while,” I told him while trying to sound excited. Ronnie started the car and packed out of the slowing parking lot without a word. Neither of us knew what to say.

The little boy fiddled with the strap of his seat and slid his fingers underneath, fiddling absentmindedly and looked at me with unexcited blue eyes. “Will and Olivia didn’t want me,” he stated, dropping his head back against the seat and his hands to his side.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. “They’re having another baby,” I told him, “so they don’t have room to take care of you anymore, so you get to come stay with us until Ms. Lyla can find you a new family.”

“You’re not my new family?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “We’ll always be your family, Arch, but Ronnie and I can’t take care of you forever. We’re not capable of raising a little boy right now, because there’s just so much that would take our time away from you.”

Arch nodded. He knew that it was the same conversation we’d having since his mother left him over a year ago. He knew that our reasons were selfish and didn’t question them like he wanted to because he knew the answer wouldn’t change.

Part of me wanted to scoop him up and keep him forever, but the other part thought of the future and the family that I wanted to create with Ronnie. I wanted a hoard of dark haired, dark eyed babies that we could call our own. Life would be different if we took Arch forever. We would spend his childhood reminding him that we loved him just as much as our own and be worried everyday that he felt inadequate to our biological kids.

Adoption wasn’t right for us. We weren’t the kind of people who knew how to make a child understand our lifestyle when he hadn’t lived it since birth. Arch once had a normal life, with two parents and a day to day routine. Ronnie and I didn’t live like that at all. Everyday was something different. Another day closer to Ronnie leaving, another night of bars, studios, and bands. It wasn’t stable or regular like Arch needed.

“We’re going to have to stay at the house eventually,” I said to Ronnie as we pulled into the apartment building parking lot, “There’s no room for Arch here.”

Ronnie didn’t say a word as he turned off the car and climbed out. I followed suit, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression, and opened the back door for Arch. “Come on,” I encouraged, wrapping my arms around the boy so I could pull him out of the car, “Lets go upstairs. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.” He climbed the stairs with my hand in his and walked beside me down the memorized hall behind Ronnie. Arch had been here plenty of times that it was familiar and comfortable to him, so when we got inside the one room apartment, the little boy kicked his shoes off and raced across the living room onto the couch. He grinned and wrapped his arms around Charlie, practically laying on the growing puppy. “Can Charlie and I watch cable!?” he asked, temporarily forgetting about his sadness.

Ronnie looked at me and had a surprising smile on his face. I chuckled and nodded in reply to the boy, taking my shoes off as I walked towards the kitchen. “Yeah, go ahead, but nothing scary or inappropriate.” I pointed a finger at Ronnie who had a habit of exposing the boy to both.

The singer held his hands up in defense. “Come on, Att, you don’t think I’d ever try to corrupt him, do you?” he questioned, grabbing Arch’s black jacket from the couch so he could sit down. He took off his own jacket and tossed them both towards the closet by the front door. They landed in a pile on the carpet halfway between him and the door.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to pick them up. “You’re such a slob,” I muttered, shaking my head at the brunette, “and yes, I do think that of you.”

“Baby, you should know me better than that,” he said playfully, “Arch is much too precious.”

Arch frowned and sat up on his knees. “No, I’m not,” he stated, crawling closer to Ronnie so he could grab the remote from the singer’s fingers, “Can I hear your new songs? Atticus didn’t let me hear the old ones.”

Ronnie looked back at me as I passed through the entryway into the fancy kitchen. "No," I answered for Ronnie, trying to think of a whole song that was appropriate for him.

“Why not?” Ronnie asked me, looking at us both. Arch grinned hopefully and practically climbed into his lap. "It's not like it's going to hurt him."

I looked at him with disbelief. “Uh, plenty of reasons,” I stated in shock, “There’s no way he can listen to Fashionably Late.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the narrow wall that separated the two entrances of the kitchen.

“It’s not that bad,” Ronnie defended, pushing Arch off him and pushing off of the couch. He told Arch to stay there and walked over to me as I opened our fridge and tried to find something decent for the little boy to eat. “Why can’t he hear some of it?” he questioned, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. “We’ll skip the language.”

I turned around in his arms and met his dark eyes. “You have to be careful,” I whispered, seeing Arch as he peered over the couch at us, “It’s not just the language I’m worried about on the album, you also mention your mom leaving you a lot.”

Ronnie’s expression showed that he understood. “We’ll skip Drifter and the other ones.” He waved his hand to signify the “other ones” and dipped his head to kiss my mouth.

“Arch is watching,” I said, my lips almost against his.

“So,” he replied, pressing his palms against my lower back to bring me against him, "He's our kid for now. We can corrupt him as much as we want to." He grinned mischievously.

I pushed the man off of me and gave him a look. “Go watch TV,” I demanded, turning around to open the fridge once again, “If you’re a good boy I’ll even make you lunch.”

“Ooh, goodie,” Ronnie muttered, laughing as I swatted at him.

“Get outta here.” I grinned and shook my head at him. I pulled some items out of the fridge so that I could make the boys’ meal and got started as they found something to watch on TV, postponing listening to the album so Ronnie could weed out the ones that paralleled Arch’s life.

After a half an hour, I was filling plates with cheeseburgers, deciding to give up on Arch’s vegetarianism since he ate meat every time he came here anyways. “Arch, Ron, food,” I called out to them, setting their plates on the island counter. “Arch, do you like ketchup?”

“Yes!” the little boy shouted as he quickly scrambled off the couch and traipsed after Ronnie into the kitchen. Charlie jumped off the couch and landed with a thud before chasing Arch into the kitchen to beg for his food. Ronnie picked Arch up and sat him on an island stood and Charlie sat at his feet. I slid his plate over to him and covered his burger in ketchup before adding the top bun.

“There you go.”

Arch smiled and pulled his plate closer. He didn’t mind that giving him meat was a ploy to make him feel better. He ate quickly and happily between us at the counter.

“I have to go to Epitaph in a little while,” I told them both, mostly to Ronnie, “I’ve got to have Bruce and my dad take a listen of Pariah Conviction’s CD. I want to get back to them soon with the news.”

“What’s Priah Convishon?” Arch asked, looking between us.

I chuckled and set my burger down on my plate. “They’re a band I’m helping get noticed,” I explained.

“Why can’t they do it by themselves?”

Ronnie motioned to say that he had this one, so I took another bite of my burger and waited for what he was going to say. “Well,” he started after he swallowed, “Sometimes bands don’t know enough people to be recognized, so they ask someone like Atti, to come see them play.”

Arch turned towards me and then back to Ronnie. “What does Atticus do?” he asked him instead of me.

“She watches them play, and if she likes them she helps them get famous, basically,” he told, putting it in very simple terms so that the little boy would understand easily.

Arch tapped his little fingers on the edge of his plate and turned back my direction. His blonde hair was getting long enough to touch eyelashes and his eyes were flooded with color because of all the tears shed in the day. “Can I come?” he asked simply, folding his hands together like a little adult.

I grinned and pulled the little boy to my chest. I pressed a kiss against the top of his head and nodded. “Yes, of course,” I murmured, meeting Ronnie’s eyes over the top of Arch’s head, “You can come with me tonight, but not to see the bands.”

Arch backed out of my grasp. “Why not?” he questioned.

“Because it’ll be late and loud,” I said, “and I won’t be able to leave to bring you home, because I’ll be working.”

The three of us finished our lunch and I went to get ready while the boys dropped back onto the couch and Ronnie began showing Arch bits of the album, loudly, with Charlie lolling between them. I was thankful that we didn’t have neighbors to our right and that the ones to the left weren’t the kind of people to complain about our incredibly noisy music habits, but even so I shouted down the hall from the bathroom.

“Turn it down, Ronnie!”

The music got quieter as he tried to hear me and when I didn’t say anything else, he understood what I was trying to say in the first place. In the bathroom, I straightened my hair and fixed up my makeup from last night, since I had yet to take it off or put anymore on. I swapped my sweats for a pair of jeans that were dark gray, almost black. Instead of the oversized hoodie I donned this morning. I pulled on a gray tank and darker gray hoodie.

I was stuffing my phone into my pocket as I walked back out into the living room. Arch was slipping his shoes on with help from Ronnie and told me to wait for him so he could put his sweatshirt on.

“Okay.” I walked over and grabbed his jacket from where I hung it earlier. I took it over to him and helped him get his arms through the holes.

“I learned to zip it myself!” he claimed, looking at the two of us with a proud expression, “Do you want to see?”

I smiled and nodded once. “Yeah, of course, show us.”

The little boy focused hard as he lined up the zipper with the little plastic piece at the bottom and within seconds had it pulled all the way up to his chin. He grinned and held it arms out to his sides. “Tada,” he cheered.

“That’s amazing, Arch,” Ronnie said, getting comfortable on the couch, “I don’t remember being able to do that when I was your age.”

“That’s cause I’m smarter than you,” Arch retorted. He giggled loudly when Ronnie playfully roared and threw him onto the couch cushion next to him.

“I’m still bigger than you though,” Ronnie said, holding the boy down, “What are your smarts going to do for you now?”

Arch screeched loudly and tried to kick out of Ronnie’s arms, almost managing to hit the man in the face with the heel of his shoe. Ronnie got on his knees and leaned over the boy, bouncing him on the cushion by shoving him down and letting him come back up continuously. Charlie quickly got of the couch so he wouldn't be landed on and started barking at the rambunctious duo.

“Alright, that’s enough,” I refereed, pushing the two to opposite ends of the couch. Ronnie smirked as the boy glared at him and got off the couch.

“We’re leaving,” he said to Ronnie, “and you can’t come.”

I chuckled and nodded, agreeing with the five year old who was now in our care. Ronnie pulled Charlie back up next to him and quieted the dog. I kissed him goodbye and Arch and I headed to my car. I made a mental note that I’d have to get him his own booster seat soon, since it wouldn't be easy to borrow Nico's from my father. He talked excitedly about getting to go to work with me and didn’t hardly take a breath the entire way to the Epitaph building.

“Atticus,” he said as we were close to our destination.

I glanced back at the boy in the rearview mirror. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

I smiled at his sweetness. “I love you too, Arch. We both do.”

He didn’t say another word until we were parking in the drive of the ten story building and getting out of the car. When I opened the door for him, he took my hand and we walked into the building together to meet with Bruce and watch the recording from last night.