Part 4 - Alison
Alison shouts as she puts groceries away in the kitchen, "Donnie you better be watching her!"
"I am watching her." Donnie rolls his eyes, "She's asleep." He points at his infant daughter, asleep on his chest. He's watching the game on television, sound turned down low.
"I was at Costco. Found a great deal on formula in bulk - could you bring it in from the car for me? I'm going to get the snacks ready." Alison was bustling around trying to make everything perfect. It had to be perfect. Today's the day they meet their son. His foster parents had graciously decided to bring him over for his first visit. The beginning of what was a planned slow tradition to living with the Hendrixes. Next weekend he'd stay overnight in his new room. Before the month was out he'd be living with them full-time.
"Alison. He's won't be three for another month. He's not going to remember the first time he meets us." Donnie is clearly exasperated. He makes no move towards the garage.
Alison answers as if she hasn't heard him, "I called the priest today, he says we can baptize Gemma in another two months, so we can have our son done at the same time." Alison rinsed a small amount of ranch dip off her finger, looking at her perfectly arranged veggie platter.
"Well that's good. Right?" Donnie reclines. How on earth can he be that relaxed? This is not the time. Alison shakes her head.
"Well we have to decide on what to name him. Jax Hendrix? It's awful. It's...urban." Alison shudders.
"I say we stick with the first initial. Easy. Jackson? Jesse?"
"Jesse? What is he? A character in a bad teen movie. No." Alison sighs. Donnie hasn't seemed to grasp that he only has veto power when it comes to naming their children.
The doorbell disturbs them both. Alison stands, glaring at Donnie until he does the same, Gemma still sleeping in his arms.
At the door was a middle-aged woman holding the hand of a small boy. Who's looking up at her curiously.
"Hello!" Alison greets, "You must be Kathy." They'd spoken on the phone several times in the last two weeks. They shake hands warmly.
"Hey!" Donnie greets them adjusting Gemma on his shoulder so that he can shake the woman's hand.
"Yes. And this is Jax." The boy clings to Kathy's hand, "Oh it's ok. I told you about the Hendrixes. Alison and Donnie - they're adopting your sister Gemma. And they want to meet you too!"
"Hi." The little boy manages. Alison finds herself staring at him, admiring his smooth cheeks and big brown eyes. His head topped with curls. He was a beautiful child. She sees the resemblance to Gemma immediately.
She bends down to talk to him, "Hello Jax, I'm Alison. Would you like to meet your sister?" With the child's nod she guides him over to Donnie who crouches down. He seems to know that Alison needs this moment, he refrains from speaking.
"This is your sister Gemma." Alison says softly.
"Hi Gemma." The boy says and reaches out his little hand to stroke his sister's hair.
"Don't worry," Kathy smiles, "He's used to babies. We have another foster babe at home. Six months old. He's really good with him."
"Do you like trucks Jax?" Donnie asks. "We have some-" He points at the trucks that have been laid out in the living room. They've been purchased just for him, of course. But he doesn't seem to realize that yet.
The boy nods eagerly. Donnie puts Gemma down in the pack-n-play against the wall and settles down on the floor to play with Jax.
Alison moves back into the kitchen with Kathy, she has so many questions for her.
"How long has he been with you?" Alison can't bring herself to say that name. They'll have to transition to a new name though. All the books tell her that much. She's been reading about adopting toddlers every day during Gemma's naps. Studying up for anything that might go wrong. How to help him adjust. Attachment disorders. Discipline techniques. Toddler behaviour. All of it.
"Nearly two years." Kathy responds, "We're his second foster-home. He's a sweet boy. He can get wild though." She chuckles gently.
"Have you told Jax yet? That we want to adopt him?" Alison sits, serving herself several cherry tomatoes but leaving her food untouched.
"Not yet. And we don't actually call him Jax." Kathy admits helping herself to a carrot liberally coated in ranch dip, "We call him Ozzy."
"Ozzy?" Alison repeats. It sinks in. Oscar. That is what they are going to call him. She finds herself smiling back at Kathy feeling nothing but gratitude for this woman who has been raising this child.
"Yeah. Silly nickname. Blame Mike. My husband." Kathy clarifies looking sheepish.
"Ozzy," She tests out the name, "Do you want a snack?"
The boy comes running up, a large toy truck clasped in his hand, "Yes!" He smiles at her. Donnie follows with a stupid smile and an amused look.
She wants to hug the little boy. Wants to tell him that she'll be his mommy soon. Wants to tell him how excited she is for him to come and live with her and Donnie. Instead she beams back and lowers an appropriately portioned snack on a colourful plate shaped like a fish.
