The adoption (regression)

(3) Meeting the Jones'

(edited)

MICHEAL POV

I sighed as I looked out at the moving scenery. I rested my head on my arm, propping it up on the window of the car.

"Are you excited Micheal?" My case worker, Mindy, asked me. She took her eyes off of the road for a second to look at me.

"It's just going to be the same as every other house." I mumbled. I have been in the foster system since I was eight after witnessing the untimely death of my parents.

I've been through quite a few houses, deemed a "troubled child" or "difficult".

"Oh come on, have hope, be optimistic, positive even! It wouldn't hurt a little to retire this cold, tough exterior." Mindy said, overly cheery and happy.

"I'm positive that this house will be just like the others." I've been in the system six almost seven  years, and every time I'm told I'm to problematic. There is no point in trying to find the best "parents" for me, I'll be out in a couple of years anyway.

"Really Micheal?"

"Yes." I deadpan.

"At least give them a chance, you haven't even met them yet." I groan and roll my eyes.

"Fine." I grumble, ending the conversation. I watched as the trees passed by, blurring into a line of green and brown. We are going to the more rural area of town, where there are more trees.

Mindy pulled into a long dirt drive way and up to a decent sized two-story farmhouse with wooden accents and a wrap around porch.

 Mindy puts the car in park and then turns it off, opening her door. I open mine too and start to get out but she stops me.

"Micheal?" I turn around, her dark hair frames her round face. "Please just try okay? Give them a chance." She pleads and I give her a small nod of my head before getting out of the car.

I get out and stretch, closing my door behind me. I go to the back of the car, opening the trunk and grabbing my singular duffel bag. I hadn't even bothered to unpack it at the last house.

A middle aged couple walks out of the house, as I stand by the car, Mindy standing to my left.

"Hello, Mr and Mrs Jones." Mindy says.

"Please call us Daniel and Amelia." Mr Jones sticks his hand out and Mindy shakes it. Mrs Jones sticks out her hand towards me and I awkwardly shake it.

Mrs Jones has beautiful dirty blond hair, darkening in her aging. Mr Jones has dark brown hair with a few grey hairs poking through.

"Okay, Micheal, this is it. I'll come check in on how you're doing in a few weeks." Mindy says, giving me an awkward side hug. I know she's being to optimistic about my stay here, she'll be picking me up again before she has a chance to do the first check in. 

"Thank you so much Ms Connor." Mr Jones says, giving her a small wave as she gets back into the car. 

"My pleasure, I hope y'all get along well." Mindy stays overly optimistic. I stand there awkwardly as Mindy drives off.

"Well son it's nice to meet you. Why don't we go inside and show you around?" Mr Jones offers and I nod, lifting my bag over my shoulder. I choose to ignore the term he called me for the time being. 

"Is that all the things you have honey?" Mrs Jones says in a sweet voice, and I don't miss the endearing name she calls me.

"Yes." 

"Well we're going to have to go shopping then, can't have you living out of a bag." She laughs. I don't see the problem of living out of a bag, I've been dong it for years. And I definitely don't see the need to go shopping.

They give me the tour, showing me the kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom, pantry, master room, laundry room, upstairs entertainment area, upstairs bathroom, doors leading to go outside, and finally the room I would be staying in. I notice a cat tree and two large dog beds in the living room, they must have pets. 

Oddly enough the house is baby proofed. Baby gates at the bottom and top of the staircase, white covers on all of the outlets. I even notice mounts on some of the furniture, eliminating the possibility of it falling. 

My bedroom is upstairs while the master one is downstairs.

My temporary room has light blue walls, a dresser, a chest, a bookshelf, a side table, and a twin size bed. Strangely though the bed has short railings on it, like a toddler bed. 

"Sorry about the railings, we didn't get around to taking those off from the last little boy we had staying here." Mrs Jones says, that kind of explains the baby proofing. But why would it all still be up?  

"It's fine" I say coldly, I've had worse. 

"Well I'll get started on dinner. Why don't you get settled and then we can all eat together." Mr Jones says, leaving  to presumably go downstairs. 

Mrs Jones stands there for a second before saying "Do you need any help unpacking?" 

"No." I say quickly. 

"Okay." She leaves slowly, eating the door open behind her. I wait a minute before closing the door and tossing my bag on the floor. I go over to the bed, moving around the railings and throwing myself down. The mattress crinkles underneath me and I am surprised to feel a mattress protector under the sheets. The last kid must have had bed wetting issues. 

I try to ignore the protector as I fall asleep.