Breaking The Rules: a Foster's Fan Fiction

Chapter 2. A Perfect Family

Chapter 2. A Perfect Family

Brandon came into the kitchen and stopped when he saw Callie sitting at the table. "Callie? Honey, what's wrong?" He asked, worried. He crossed the room, and took a seat beside her. Placing his hand on her back, he asked again; "Please, tell me what's wrong."

Callie looked up at him through red, puffy eyes. "Oh, Brandon... I just... I saw." She tried to keep her composure, but failed.

Brandon took her in his arms, his shoulder muffling her sobs. He rubbed her back, trying to sooth her. "Whatever it is," he told her, "I'm right here for you."

Finally, Callie recovered enough to speak. "I- I went to my old house on the way home. I just wanted to show Rachel where I lived wh- when I was little." She grabbed a napkin, and wiped her eyes and running nose.

"Go on," Brandon pressed.

"I rang the doorbell, and a girl answered," Callie continued. "She was maybe twelve or thirteen. And there was a younger girl, too. She was about ten. The older girl went to get her... her dad."

"Was he rude to you?" Brandon asked, trying to piece together the story as he listened.

Callie shook her head no. "Brandon, her dad is my dad! He lives in our old house, and he- he has a new family."

"Oh, Callie," Brandon said, his heart aching. "I'm sorry, honey. That must have been so hard."

Callie nodded. "It was. I just grabbed Rachel and left." As she began to cry again, Brandon held her close to him, kissing her head and brushing back her hair. "I never even knew he got out of prison," she told him. She brushed her tears away. "What was wrong with us?"

"Who?" Brandon asked, confused by her question.

"Mom, and Jude and I," said Callie. "His new wife and kids looked happy, and he was sober. They were like a perfect family. Why did he abuse us, but not them? Were we really that terrible, that he just couldn't stand us?"

Brandon pulled her closer to him. "No, love. You weren't terrible at all. Sweetheart, he was an alcoholic. He was sick..."

"That's no excuse," Callie told him. "He could've stopped drinking if he wanted to. No... I don't care. He doesn't deserve another family. Not after the way he hurt us."

"You know I'm on your side, honey," Brandon began. "But remember... there's no such thing as a perfect family. We have no idea what goes on behind closed doors."

Just then, three-month-old Gabriel, or Gabe, as he was called, began to cry loudly. "I can't deal with this right now," said Callie, standing up. "I have to go feed the baby."

"We'll talk later," Brandon reassured her. Disturbed by Callie's story, he felt the sudden need to spend time with his daughter. "I'm gonna go check on Rachel."

Brandon found his daughter sitting on her bedroom floor, surrounded by a multitude of My Little Ponies and all of their paraphernalia. "Hi, Peanut," he said, entering her room.

Rachel looked up at him. "Hi, Daddy! Will you play ponies with me?"

Brandon smiled. "I'd love too." He sat across from her on the floor. "But first, come here and give me some sugar." Rachel scooted over to him, and crawled into his arms, her pigtails bouncing. Brandon kissed the top of her head, cuddling her. He loved his little girl so much it hurt. She was a part of him and his beloved Callie. She was precious, and innocent, and everything good in the world. He couldn't wrap his mind around how a father could hurt his own child, like Callie's father had. He hugged Rachel a little tighter. "Daddy loves you, baby. You know that, right?"

Rachel nodded. "I love you too, Daddy." She kissed his cheek, then picked up a blue pony, and held it out to him. "You be this horsie. It's a boy."

Brandon took the plastic toy from her, and she picked up a yellow pony for herself. She galloped the pony a few inches, until it was standing in front of the blue one. "Neigh! Let's go on a picnic!" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Now Daddy, you say 'Neigh! I'll bring the watermelon.'"

Brandon laughed at his daughter's request, which she delivered so seriously. "Neigh! I'll bring the watermelon," he said in a high-pitched voice. He wasn't sure if that voice was right for a pony, but Rachel seemed pleased with it. He galloped the toy alongside hers, until they reached their designated picnic spot. He knew some guys would be embarrassed in this less-than-masculine situation, but he wasn't at all. In fact, he was enjoying himself. And with Callie's words about her father still fresh in his mind, he felt that sitting in that pink bedroom, playing ponies with his little girl, was the measure of a man.