Page 100 of For All It's Worth
Epilogue
Two Years Later - Charlie
“Soyou’retellingme,”I said as the woman tried to interrupt me. I held up a hand since I wasn’t finished, “You’re suggesting, that in order to be successful foster parents, that we get married?”
Our case manager pursed her lips. “Unfortunately, it is often the case that married couples get through the process faster. They are seen as a more stable environment.” She held up a hand to halt Max’s tirade. “It isn’t how I see things, but,” she softened, “I like you two and want to see you with a bunch of kids. You certainly have the space.”
I looked at Max. We’d known that this was a possibility and I knew how much he wanted some kids around the place.
“We’ll get married,” he told her, with a smile at me.
“Today,” I said firmly.
Miriam looked stunned. Our caseworker was a no-nonsense woman, aged somewhere between thirty and ninety. If someone said to me that she was immortal, I’d have believed them. She was constantly in movement somehow, always evaluating her surroundings, and she’d given us a glowing report when she had checked out our apartment. The city had stalled on us and it seemed that our lack of wedding rings was the last hurdle to fostering.
When she finally came to her senses she repeated, “Today?” in a faint voice.
Max and I shared a look. We’d discussed this many times over the last couple of years and knew we’d do anything to make our dreams a reality.
“Absolutely, I’ll call and make an appointment at city hall now,” I said.
“I’ll do it,” Max said, getting up, putting our cat, Belphie, down and squeezing my shoulder. He picked up his phone and left the room heading into the kitchen. Belphie followed after him, always eager to be wherever Max was. We’d gotten him from the same shelter that Andy got Lucifer, but Belphie had been a tiny ratty-looking black kitten, shot through with gray. Since he’d been so small when he’d arrived at the shelter he didn’t have a name. Max wanted to go with the demon cat name theme, hence Belphegor, or Belphie, as he was lovingly called. He only got his full name used on him when he was a brat.
The apartment remodel had been finished for about a year. We’d paused on the upstairs bedrooms to give ourselves a break from all the construction. We did some traveling, visited my sister at college, and headed to Europe for a couple of weeks.
It’d been more of a working vacation for me, I’d taken my camera to get shots for another book, a kind of photo journal about living and loving with addiction. The book had sold well and my business was running steady enough to have a couple of staff.
“Are you sure about this?” Miriam’s voice cut into my thoughts.
“We’re certain. It isn’t a surprise and something we’ve discussed in the past. We’ll go to city hall today and get married if we can. Are you able to put it down on your evaluation?”
“I will. It bodes well for you both that you are willing to do this to gain approval. I can’t see it being long before you have a placement.” Her voice was saddened. “Unfortunately, there are quite a few children in the LGBTQIA+ demographic that struggle to get a home for any length of time.”
“Which is why we want to do this, for those kids in particular.”
Her smile was approving. “I shouldn’t say this, but I’m almost certain you will be rubber-stamped. The city is crying out for decent foster parents and you’ve set up everything so wonderfully.”
Max came back into view. “Four o’clock and I have a list of the documents we need.”
“Great, so what do we do now?”
“Well, we better invite some people, or there’ll be murders!” He looked over at Miriam, “I’m joking of course, but we do need witnesses.”
“Right, I’ll drop a message in the family group chat. Thankfully Matty is still home for another few days.”
Max gave me a look and directed his attention to Miriam. “Would you like to come?”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose. I also have a full day of appointments, so I’ll get out of your hair. Congratulations to both of you. I hope to see you soon.”
I led Miriam to the elevator and said our goodbyes as Max went to our bedroom, looking for our best suits.
“Any particular color or just black? What ties?”
“Hmm?”
“Charlie! I need help picking.”
“I think we should match as much as we can. I’m going to text the group and some of our friends.”
