Decisions: What do we do now?

Decision; was there ever a more scary word? Was there ever a word that could top that final moment when you have to decide about something so monumental that it scares the life out of you?

We were stuck between a rock and a hard place; We had to decide realistically if we were up to the task of raising another child when we were fast approaching senior citizen status. I mean, how were we supposed to raise a child when we were finally free? Finally able to come and go as we pleased and not have to worry about babysitters and burping and diaper duty. I knew it was selfish, but I wasn't sure if we were up to it.

On the other hand, how could we, in good conscience, give away a child born of our flesh? A child whose own mother had tossed him away? Would he grow up wondering why he was given away? Would he always bare the scar that comes from knowing that no one wanted him? How, could I, could we, do that to our son's son? The real question was this: Could we live with ourselves if we did? Could we live with ourselves if we didn't?

In the end, there really wasn't any decision at all. By the end of the first evening with him, both Bosco and I were head over heels in love with this tiny little boy whose face reminded us so much of Ty Davis Sr., and whose bright blue eyes were so much a reflection of my own and those of my children. We fed and burped our little one, gave him a bath in tepid water from the kitchen sink and dressed him in a new pair of pajamas that Bosco had gone out and got for him.

My heart soared as I watched my husband rocking Davis in our livingroom, his arms wrapped protectively around him, holding him close to his heart, the same way he had done with all of our other children, stopping every so often to lean down and kiss his tender cheek or his curly hair. It was about nine o'clock and I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. The past few days had been exhausting both mentally and physically. All I wanted to do was go to bed and sleep for a week. I walked into the livingroom dressed in my white cotton nightie that barely reached my knees and sat down on the sectional sofa opposite Bosco.

"He's beautiful isn't he?" I said, as I curled my legs underneath me and got comfortable.

"Yah. He's so small, I feel like he's gonna break in my arms or somethin." Bosco commented, looking up at me and giving me a half smile. Despite his delight over his new grandson, I knew his heart was breaking over the situation, just as mine was.

"Didja ever see us bein grandparents, Faith? I mean, I never thought about what it would be like. Never thought that I'd even live to be a grandfather."

"I know. It's funny how life works out. One day your partners at the Police Academy and the next, your married and thirty years have passed."

"He looks so much like Ty, doesn't he?" He asked, with genuine pride in his voice. After all, Ty was his best friend.

"He does." I agreed. A thought occurred to me. "Bos? When are we going to talk to Ty about all of this?"

"I dunno. The letter said that he'd be findin out soon, but I think we should call him tonight or early tomorrow mornin. I don't want to keep this from him."

It took me a few moments to gather up the courage to ask him what our next move should be, but I shouldn't have bothered. Before I could even open my mouth, he had anticipated my question.

"I don't know."

"What?" I asked.

He looked pointedly at me and sighed. "I dunno what we should do–with him, I mean." He nodded his head at the sleeping bundle in his arms. "I mean, can you picture us startin over now? We're kind of over the whole midnight feedins and all that."

Surprised, I opened my mouth again and then shut it, knowing that he knew me much better than I knew myself. After a few seconds, I spoke. "What do you want to do?"

He began to rock back and forth slowly, setting a lazy pace and shook his head ruefully. "What do I want to do?" He laughed sarcastically. " I want to turn back the clock to when we knew our kids— to when we had some control over the things they did—but most of all–" He looked down at Davis. "most of all, I want this little boy to grow up in good home with two parents. I don't want him goin through the crap that Mikey and I had to live with."

I sat forward and bit down on my lower lip, wanting to hear him say that we would raise him ourselves and to hell with what anyone else thought. To hell with Brett and Carly, too. To hell with it all; we'd be his parents and he'd never want for anything.

"What are you saying?"

He eased himself out of the chair and brought the baby over to me and passed him over gently. I leaned back on the couch and cuddled my little bundle, loving the feel of him in my arms. Bosco walked over to the fireplace and ran his finger tips over the pictures that sat on the mantle.

"I'm saying that no matter what, he's family. He's our responsibility now. But I have to tell you that I don't think we're doing any favors to Brett or to Carly by doin it. It's like they can make this big mess and just expect us to clean it up for them. It's not right."

"What other choice to we have? Find someone to adopt him? Just let him go? Because I don't know if I can do that— " I warned.

He turned back to me, anger and hurt flashing across his face again. "Don't you think I know that? Do you honestly think that I want to let him go either?" He asked, his arm extended to me. "I love this kid already."

"No–"

"Do you know what this is gonna do to our family? Do you?" He asked again.

"Yes...it's gonna be hard, of course—"

He widened his eyes and shook his head. "Hard? I'd say it's gonna be hard! Do you really think that Brett is gonna step foot in this house again, knowing that Davis is here with us? Do you think that Carly will be able to see the son she left behind? Do you think that Mike will want to come here, knowing what we're doing? Knowing that we are picking up the pieces of the horrible mess he's made? I would say that hard is the understatement of the century!" He widened his arms and turned in a slow circle around the room.

"Bosco, are you done?" I asked as calmly as I could. I knew that he wasn't angry at me. He was hurt and he was trying to deal with it the best way he could, however, it was a long cry from being an easy task to calm him down when he got this way. He could go from calm to angry in a breath; from angry to sad in a second. He was like a chameleon, changing so fast, it was hard to keep up at times.

He stopped and looked at me. "Done? I'd say neither of us is gonna be done for a long time. This is only the beginning." He said prophetically.

I nodded my head slowly. "Yes..you're right. This won't ever be over. It doesn't matter what happens next because nothing will ever be the same between us or our sons again. The question I'm asking you is what you want to do with him? We need to be together on this, Bos, or it won't work. We need to be united because if we aren't then terrible things will happen."

He considered for a moment, wiping his hand over his forehead and rubbing back and forth. He plucked his charm out from under his shirt and began to twirl it over and over again, betraying him, betraying his inner feelings.

"Terrible things have already happened." He said in all seriousness and then took a deep breath and swung his eyes my way. They were eyes filled with unshed tears, for refused to let even one more drop. I could see the disappointment and the bitterness from the situation. "But I won't turn my back on my own flesh and blood."

I felt my heart flutter in anticipation.

" We'll raise him as our own." Were his final words on the subject.

And so it was decided. Davis Monroe Boscorelli was officially home.