Page 118 of Rules to Love By

“So I’m not going to be the first. Fine if he wants to shoot your cousin some cash for cleaning the storage space, but he doesn’t have to worry. I will finish the job.” He glanced up at Eli. “And I’m going to tell him next time, he should talk to me about it. I’m cool with sharing the work, and even the pay, especially if it’s with family, but I want to be part of the decision.”

One side of Eli’s mouth curled up. “I don’t think he meant to step on your toes.”

“I don’t think so either.” Marcus huffed. “Sorry if that was a bit agro. I just…”

Eli touched his face when he didn’t continue. “Just what?”

Marcus drew in a deep breath. “Don’t go making decisions for me without discussing it with me. Even if you think you know what’s best for me.”

Eli blinked at him. “We’re not talking about the reno now, are we?”

“No. But this just…” He rolled his shoulders, considering. “I didn’t spend a lot of time in foster care before they found my aunt, and the families I was with were nice, from what I remember. But you’re a kid when all that is happening to you, and everyone around you is deciding everything, and it’s awful not having any say in any of it. Not that a seven-year-old should have a say. But I always felt people with parents at least got to object and be listened to. Foster kids just go where they’re sent, do what they’re told, and a lot of the time, don’t even get to keep what’s given to them.”

“It sounds awful.” Eli didn’t look up as he fit Marcus’s sock over his toes.

“CAS does the best they can. It’s not their fault some people are shitty parents, and foster families struggle to have enough resources, and systems are imperfect. They’re all only doing the best they can with what they have, and they all want what’s best for the kids who can’t advocate for themselves. But I’ve seen enough, and heard enough of how the system works—and fails, sometimes—to know I never want anyone taking decisions out of my hands again.”

Marcus took his foot back and pulled up his sock, then put on the other one. “See, that’s what Johnathan is trying to do with the diner.” He stomped into one shoe, then the other. “And I’m not going to let him get away with it.”

“You’re going to fight him?”

“I have to, don’t I? He might be my uncle by blood, but he is not the kind of family I want.”

“Will you at least come down and eat breakfast with Dad and me?”

Marcus lifted his attention from his shoes to look into Eli’s eyes. “Will you drive me into the city after?”

“Of course.”

“And wait for me?”

“Yes.”

“It might take a while.”

“However long. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

Eli leaned close and pulled him into a tight hug. “Always.” He turned them both towards the stairs and squared his shoulders. “Now for my father’s cooking.”

As they headed down, Marcus texted Schiffer to let him know Eli would bring him to the meeting, which seemed to satisfy the lawyer because he replied quickly with a simple ‘Don’t be late.’

It turned out Eli’s father used a boxed mix to make pancakes slightly too crispy around the edges and served with fake syrup. He made up for it with copious amount of perfectly crispy bacon, though.

After they ate, Tyrone insisted on taming Marcus’s unruly hair before he was allowed to leave the building.

“I can give you a shave too,” he offered.

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

“I don’t mind, son. Call it a down payment on those shelves.”

“Dad.”

Marcus laughed. “It’s okay. I can shave my six chin hairs myself. I have to go to the B and B and shower anyway, and change my clothes.”

“After all the time I just spent on your hair?”

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