Infinite

It only took a day for Arch's social worker to show up at our house, worried. She arrived around lunch time and I quickly let her in, silencing myself for a moment so that I could listen for Arch, knowing that he was eavesdropping.

"Arch?" I called in the direction of the kitchen, "Ms. Lyla is here!"

He wandered out with a cup in his hands and gave her a little smile before he dropped down into the couch and set his soda on the coffee table. "What are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes as we walked over.

She crossed in front the television and carefully situated herself in the chair next to him. "I'm just here to see how it went yesterday with your mom," she said reassuringly, "I heard that it ended pretty badly." She crossed one leg over the other and sat back as Arch considered the day and nodded along with her words.

"She got mad," he said bashfully, glancing away at the blank TV screen, "and then she wanted me to go with her and I didn't want to and she wouldn't go without me. So Atti called the police and they made her leave."

Lyla's eyes slid over to mine and she gave me a knowing look before she replied to him. "How did it go before all of that happened?"

He shrugged and pushed his bangs away from his face. "I don't want her to come back," he stated hopefully, as if Lyla could really make that happen.

Lyla Ains nodded and reached out to brush his hair back again comfortingly. "I'm sorry that it didn't go very well. I wish there was something I could do to make next time smoother."

The five year old dropped back down into the couch. "I don't want her to come back," he argued, "It's not fair. She scared me and she's mean to Atticus." He reached back to grab my hand and held on tightly.

Before Arch could get more worked up, I interrupted. "Arch, can you go upstairs and clean your room, please?" I asked, knowing that the floor was hidden under a monstrous mountain of toys that he'd acquired since moving in with me.

He looked at me as though I had lost my mind. "But Ms. Lyla is here," he argued softly, honestly just confused by my random request.

"You'll be able to talk to her again before she leaves," I promised, "It's just that us grown ups want to talk and your room needs to be cleaned up anyway." I shooed him off the couch and then folded my hands together, watching him expectantly as he slid off the cushion and dragged himself unwillingly to the stairs.

When he got to his doorway, he turned around and looked forlornly down at us before he stepped in and shut the door, peaking out at us until the door blocked his view and locked him on the other side, leaving us to ourselves.

"So, what set Abigail off?" she questioned, her tone changing now that Arch was gone, "I thought she would at least hold out for more than one visit before she pulled something like this."

"She was upsetting Arch so I tried to have a rational conversation with her about what is best for Arch and she got really upset when I asked her to consider another alternative to him going home with her," I explained, leaning back against the arm of the couch so I was facing her, "I was just so sick of her repeating that he wouldn't need me once she got him back."

"What did you say to her?"

I tucked a stray strand of hair out of my face before I answered. "I actually wanted to have this conversation with you before I said anything to Arch," I answered, watching for her expression. "I was hoping we could talk about my chances of adopting him legally."

She looked stunned for just a minute before she composed herself. "You want to keep him?" she questioned rhetorically and surprised, "What made you change your mind about it? You didn't even want to foster him a few months ago."

"I love him," I answered, "He's practically my child already and I can't really imagine not having him around all the time. Plus, one of my biggest concerns was how he would cope with such a turbulent lifestyle, but that won't be a problem not that Ronnie and I aren't together. I don't have to worry so much about keeping things sta-"

"You broke up?" she questioned before I could even continue, "When did this happen?" In that moment she looked incredibly invested in the relationship between Ronnie and I and paused the whole conversation so I could explain what had exactly happened between my fiancé and I.

"I haven't told Arch yet," I replied quietly, feeling guilty, "I wanted to get him through all of this with his mother and then talk to him about adopting him before I explain to him that Ronnie won't be a part of our lives in that way."

She frowned. "How do you think he'll take it?"

"He'll be crushed," I answered, "He idolizes Ronnie. He's been asking about him everyday and I keep telling him that Ronnie's been calling after he's already gone to bed."

"How long has it been?"

"About five days," I answered, wondering how time could possibly be moving so slowly, "He called me continuously for the first three days, and then his band began calling to tell me how terrible he was doing without me."

"You're going to have to tell him sometime soon," she answered maturely, as a friend would rather than a business-like social worker, "Arch is going to want to talk to him eventually."

"I just wanted to make sure it was possible for me to adopt Arch before I told him about it," I justified, "I didn't want to get his hopes up if it's out of the question."

She pressed her lips together as she considered my request. "It won't be easy," she said after a couple of minutes of silence, "Abigail and her lawyers will fight you the entire way and there will be a hearing to determine whether adoption is more suitable than returning him to his biological family. I won't be easy, Atticus."

"I'm not asking for easy," I said, "I just need to know that it's possible." I folded one of my legs under me and glanced up at Arch's closed bedroom door. I could imagine us staying this way forever. We would both get older, sure, but if he became my son, he would always be able to come back home.

Lyla Ains pursed her thin lips and then nodded, a smile coming onto her face. "I think it's possible, Atticus," she answered, "There's no promises, but I definitely think there's a good chance that you could become Arch's mom."

"I just have to tell him, that is."

"Right." She nodded. "I should get going, unless you want me to talk to Arch about his mother again and help you figure out how he's feeling about it all."

"No, it's alright," I rebutted, "He's usually pretty vocal so it won't be hard to get him to talk to me." I called up for him, saying that Ms. Lyla was leaving, and he pulled his door open automatically, kicking a few toys out of his way so he could squeeze out.

"Bye, Ms. Lyla," he said as he bounded down and gently wrapped his arms around her, "Thanks for coming to see me and for trying to keep my mom away."

"No promises, Arch," she replied, "But I'll try my best."

When she left Arch raced over to the couch from the door and grabbed for the TV remote, tucking his legs under him as the screen stole all his attention.

"Arch," I called gently as I crossed over to him, "Arch."

He frowned and angled his head towards me but he didn't take his eyes off the show.

"Arch Emerson," I called demandingly.

He groaned and turned to me. "What?" he asked, keeping his attitude to a minimum.

"Lets go out for a late lunch," I suggested, dropping down next to him, "Just me and you. We haven't really had much time for ourselves, so why not?"

"But TV…" he trailed off, his light eyes back on it again.

I groaned loudly and shoved him down into the cushion, bouncing him up and down as he screamed and giggled, trying to push me away. "Atti, stop!" he laughed, smashing his head down as he tried to push me up off of him.

"Say you'll go out to eat with me!" I demanded, bouncing him, "Stay it!"

"Okay!" he shouted through his giggles, "I'll go! Stop! Stop!"

I grinned triumphantly and pulled him back up into a sitting position. "Good," I said, "Then go get your shoes and grab a jacket." We both climbed up from the couch and went to get ready. I ran up to my bedroom to change into a pair of gray low-top tennis shoes and grab a two-tone gray cardigan to throw over my tank and Arch searched for his right shoe, having kicked it under the couch yesterday.

"Are you ready?" I asked as I hopped down the stairs.

He stuffed his foot into his other shoe and nodded adamantly. He popped up off the couch when I reached the bottom of the stairs and we met in the center of the room just behind the couch.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked, leading him out of the house to the Escalade, "I was thinking that we could just stay here in town. There's plenty of food in Pasadena. There's no reason to go all the way into LA."

"Okay," he answered easily, "But where?"

"Lets just go see," I suggested, "There's probably plenty of places that you'll like down on the main road. I'm sure we can find something."

We climbed into the Cadillac and I tried not to think about the day when Ronnie would come back to get his car and the rest of his things. The last time I talked to him I told him that I would drop it off at his father's, but he argued, telling me that it would work out - we would work out. I argued back, explaining that I would drop it off at his dad's in Vegas as soon as I got the opportunity and then ended the call before we could get into it more.

All of this things and the sound of his voice made it harder to be apart from him and to pretend that everything was alright. Arch asked about him at least twice a day, wondering why he couldn't talk to him and why Ronnie was suddenly too busy for us. I brushed it off, waiting for the right time.

We found some little 'Ma and Pa' restaurant on the small downtown strip and decided on it easily, parking the oversized vehicle on the curb before climbing out and heading inside to order together. We got our meals in plastic boxes and headed back out to the car to go down to the little park just a couple of blocks over. Arch and I snagged one of the abandoned picnic tables and set out our chicken strips and fries in front of us.

"Do you have to work tonight?" he asked as he mashed down a bite of fries.

"Tomorrow," I answered easily, watching his face fall.

He grabbed onto the edge of the table as he leaned back too far and teetered on the brink of sliding to the ground. He grinned quickly when he caught his balance and then turned his light eyes to me. "Can I come with?" he questioned, peering at me, "I'll be really good, I promise."

"You know you can't come every time," I argued, "Bars aren't places for kids and I could get in a lot of trouble for taking you in there with me. And I certainly can't leave you in the car."

"But we have that mini movie player," he rebutted, "It'll be like staying home and watching TV but I'll be in the car waiting for you." He grabbed his soda and sipped it without taking his eyes off of me. He had a way of pressuring me into letting him get his own way due to that look and those eyes.

"Arch, I can't afford to get in trouble with Ms. Lyla and her people," I said, watching his face fall, "They have the power to take you from me whenever they want and I can't let that happen. If we are ever going to be a family than we need to stay on their good graces."

He frowned deeply and slowly reached up to set his cup back on the wooden table. "A family?" he repeated, watching me for answers and a reaction.

I leaned forward and put my arms on the table, causing my hair to fall out from behind my ears and hit my cheeks. I nodded slowly and bit my lip between my teeth as I sucked in deep breath and sit out the words. "I want to adopt you, Arch," I said, not pausing for his reaction, "I already feel like we're family and I want to make it official."

"You want to be my mom?" he questioned, almost leaping over the table already, "Forever?"

My smile matched his. "Yeah. I want that if you want that, babe."

He slid off the end of his bench and raced around to wrap his arms around my side. I pulled him up onto my lap, relieved that this went so smoothly. I'd always known that he wanted to be my son, considered me family already, but when it actually came down to talking about it, I was surprisingly nervous about what his reaction would be.

"We're gonna be a family," he said into my neck as he hugged me, "I'm so excited."

"Me too, Arch. It's gonna be just me and you from here on out. I'll always be here for you. You can count on that."

"And Ronnie," he said quickly, pushing back so that he could look me in the eye. "You, me, and Ronnie," he said again, watching for reassurance from me.

"We need to talk about that," I said timidly, hoping he would hear me out before losing it and becoming upset, like I knew he would. "Arch, please, just sit here for a minute and be quiet," I said before he could get worked up, "I need to talk to you without you closing up on me."

"But why do we have to talk about Ronnie?" he asked quickly, squinting in confusion, "Ronnie is part of our family. He's coming home at the end of the summer. He said so."

I sighed and pushed my hair back. "Arch, Ronnie and I aren't going to be together anymore," I said, putting it out there, "So even when he stops touring, he's not coming home to us. He will live at the apartment and we will live in the house in Pasadena."

Tears were already in his eyes and he shook his head quickly, his thick strands of blond hair flying around his head as he tried to push away the words and what they really mean. "But you and Ronnie love each other," he said, shellshocked, "Why can't he come home?"

"Oh, baby," I murmured, pulling him back into my arms as he cried, "There's just some things that I don't know how to explain to you right now. I love Ronnie, of course I do, but we just can't be together right now."

"But he doesn't want to be my dad," he cried into my hair, his words so muffled and sad that they practically broke me in half at the sound of them.

"Arch, this has nothing to do with you," I argued, unlatching him from my body so I could explain it to him forcefully, "Ronnie has no idea that I asked you if I could adopt you. He doesn't know so this couldn't possibly be your fault or have anything to do with you at all. Do you understand me?"

He nodded pathetically and wiped his tear stained face.

I wiped it for him and kissed his bright red cheek. "I love you," I whispered, kissing him again on the top of his head, "This is supposed to be a happy day. We're going to be a family, Arch, you should stop crying."

"I just want Ronnie to be in our family," he said, sniveling as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

I consoled him the best I could and we finished our lunch together. When we left, I promised that I would let him talk to Ronnie sometime soon so that he could tell him the good news and Ronnie could reassure him that our break up wasn't related to it. He was excited and scared to talk to the singer, knowing that it was about to become a lot less frequent and more painful, just as I had felt.