Page 110 of Fake it For Good
“How’s Benji?” I asked.
“Good,” she said. “He definitely likes it here. Are you sure you want to commit to this?”
“I do,” I said. “I want to be his foster parent with you. We’re good for him. Look how much he thrives when he spends time here.”
She smiled with her face lighting up. “He really does. His occupational therapist told me he’s doing much better.”
“This is the last visit, right?” I asked.
“From what I understand, yes,” she said.
“Great. We’ll finish his room. I want it ready for when they give us the greenlight.”
“We’ll do it this weekend,” she said.
“How was your work this morning?” I asked.
She laughed. “You mean my work from across the hall?”
“It’s still work,” I said.
“I secured another ten thousand for the second home,” she said.
“How much more do you need?” I asked.
“I’m not telling you.”
“Why not?” I scowled.
“Because you have already given too much,” she said. “I don’t think it’s fair that you are the only source I’m tapping. You are not expected to be the savior of the city.”
“But if it gets the house opened, I want to,” I said.
“If it looks like I can’t get anywhere with the contacts you helped me get, I’ll let you know,” she said. “Until then, let me do my job. Let me keep calling and begging. It never happens overnight. Besides, we don’t even have a property yet.”
“Okay, but you’ll let me know?” I asked.
“I will,” she replied. “You make me happy. Happier than I thought I would ever be. And if we get Benji, you’re going to make him one very happy little boy.”
“Forgive the cheesy thing I’m about to say, but you guys complete me,” I said. “I went from being a shadow of a man to having it all.”
“I complete you,” she said, laughing.
“You know you do.”
“Alright, back to business,” she said. “What’s the schedule for the next couple of months?”
We spent five minutes coordinating our schedules. We were planning on getting Benji, which meant we needed to schedule therapy sessions and his summer camps and so on. We were going to be splitting the duty of caring for him.
“I better go check on him,” she said and downed the last of her soda.
“We’re taking him back at five?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said with a sad smile. “I can’t wait until we don’t have to take him back.”
“Soon,” I said. “We’ll be approved.”
She left the office and I was once again alone with my thoughts. The buzzer for the gate sounded. I pushed the button to bring up the cameras and saw Denton’s ugly mug. I opened the gate and met him at the front door.
