Charlotte's Scars

Chapter 21 - Christian

Chapter Twenty-One

Christian

Saturday Morning, Karla and I were sitting in my parents' living room anxiously watching our mother talk on the phone to a representative from the Child and Family Services. It was only four days since Charlie ran out of my house, only three nights since news spread about what happened to Charlie and her parents.

But it felt more like four months.

"Uh-huh. Yes, I see," my mom said dolefully. "No, I understand." She glanced at Karla with a bleak expression and turned to face the window.

I rose off the couch and began pacing, my fingers fidgeted and I had to clench my fists to stop.

"Christian, stop it. You're making me nervous," Karla mumbled while biting her nails.

"I'll stop pacing when you stop doing that."

Furrowing her brows, she looked down at her fingers and instantly pulled them away.

"Could we somehow get a hold of her?" Mom asked and after a pause, she exhaled in defeat. "Okay, I understand, thank you anyways." Hanging up the phone, she turned around, the truth written on her face.

My stomach dropped, and before I realized what I was doing, I punched a hole into the living room wall.

"Christian!" Mom and Karla scolded in unison.

Shaking out my hand, I peered down at their stunned faces. "I-I'm sorry, mom. I'll, uh, fix that," I said with an uneven voice before looking at the wall. Charlie would hate that I was using aggression to release my frustrations. I needed to get a handle on my emotions.

When my mom was sure I wasn't going to damage anymore of her house, she sat down beside Karla and took her hand. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but your father and I weren't approved to be foster parents. The Child and Family Services won't let us take Charlie in."

"Why?!" Karla exasperated. "That's so – that's so ...ugh!"

"Overlooking Karla's lack of a coherent sentence," I glanced at my sister and raised an eyebrow, "I agree with her. You and dad are well adjusted and respected here in Bridgewalk and you're great parents." My mom puffed up with pride, and I added, "Most of the time."

"Exactly what I was saying," Karla said lamely.

Ignoring her, I finished, "You and dad should be prime candidates for Foster Parenting."

Mom sighed heavily, slouching back in the couch, she ran a hand through her raven black hair. "In a perfect world, yes." She looked over at Karla and then up at me. "Unfortunately, it seems your father's past is coming back to haunt us."

"Seriously?" Frustration caused Karla to stand up and start pacing alongside of me. "That's so dumb. He was barely twenty when it happened, and he's changed since then. You guys told us he got out of that stuff when he met you."

"Oh, he did," Mom said with full conviction. "All the money your father earns is perfectly legal and well deserved."

"Then there must be some misunderstanding. Call them back," I demanded with a little too much hostility in my voice.

"I know you are both worried about Charlie and so am I, she's like a second daughter to me, but short of kidnapping her, this is out of my hands." Mom looked flustered by the truth in that statement. "Your father may have left that world many years ago, but he still has a criminal record. The Child and Family services refuse to approve our fostering application because of it."