“Don’t worry, Zeb, you’ll get the best of me.” She shook me loose and took a few steps toward the front door. “I’m going to get a petition together to get you a visit with Hyde sometime this week. It’ll probably have to be monitored and at a court-sanctioned location like a CASA facility.”
She had pulled her lawyer pants back on and was talking to me like I was a client in her office and not like a guy that had nearly bent her over and fucked her on this rickety kitchen table.
“What the hell is CASA?” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back on the table, annoyed and sexually frustrated. I should’ve just let her put her hands down my pants.
“CASA stands for Court Appointed Special Advocate and they have locations all over the city to make visits with complicated custody less hard on the child and often on the parents. Colorado actually has some really amazing institutions in place to help children who end up in the system.”
I grunted. “As long as I get to meet the little guy and spend some time with him before things really get moving I don’t care where it takes place or who is looking over my shoulder.”
The idea I was going to be face-to-face with my son, with the tiny little person I had helped create, made all that happiness and doubt flood right back to the surface.
“I’ll set it up. Seriously, Zeb, congratulations. This little boy is very lucky to have you in his corner.”
I narrowed my eyes at her as she wrinkled her nose a little bit while running her fingers over the burn my whiskers had left on her throat.
“I’m lucky to have you in my corner, Sayer.”
She nodded absently and moved her fingers to the tiny marks of red on her chin. I chuckled a little, which had her turning her attention to me with a lifted eyebrow.
I lifted both of my own eyebrows up at her and let them fall in an obvious leer. “Just imagine what that’ll feel like when I get my face between your legs. This is nowhere close to being done between us.”
My words made her blush, but she didn’t argue. “I’ll get in touch when I hear back from the court. Things are going to start moving quickly now that we have paternity established. Well, as quickly as the legal system ever moves. I’ll see you soon.”
She left and I let out a deep sigh and turned to pick my tool belt back up off the table. It seemed like I still had a shitload of work to do . . . on the house and on the girl.
And on my life now that I had a son I was bound and determined to share it with.
I WAS ON pins and needles waiting to hear from Sayer the rest of the week. My mom and Beryl were both over the moon at the news, though I don’t think either was surprised. When I told them that Sayer was working on getting a meeting with the little boy in place, I think they were both as excited and as anxious as I was.
Sayer called right before the weekend and told me that she got the order from the court and that I could see Hyde, but it would have to be supervised and monitored at a court-approved location. My heart lodged in my throat and I couldn’t come up with anything to say to her. All I could do was grunt like a Neanderthal.
She asked if I could get an afternoon off work the following week and told me she would get everything scheduled. Since she was my attorney she was supposed to be present for the visit, but she assured me that this was something she did all the time, so both she and the CASA representative would be as unobtrusive as possible so that my time with Hyde would be uninterrupted.
When I finally found my voice to thank her, it was almost a squeak as I asked if I was allowed to bring Hyde something. I didn’t know much about kids, especially five-year-old little boys, other than when I had been one myself, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to break the ice with some kind of trinket. When I was five anything that had wheels and made noise made me the happiest kid on earth . . . actually those things made me a pretty happy adult, too. Sayer told me she would have to check with the CASA rep and that she would get back to me. We set the date for Wednesday and I spent every day leading up to it in alternating states of elation and soul-deep panic. I was sure I was driving Beryl crazy calling her every five minutes to ask her what should I do, what should I say. I couldn’t believe I was so torn up worrying if a five-year-old would like me or not.
Finally, after call number thirty she put Joss on the phone, and my niece told me to stop worrying because all kids liked me. I laughed and asked her how she knew that and her reasoning was so innocent and simple it put some of my fears to rest.