You are My Doom

Chapter 20: Eden

Chapter 20: Eden

I've spent the past six days trying nonstop to get in touch with Doom. He isn't answering my calls, and I'm afraid he's given up on us. Ever since we met, Doom has done all of the chasing. He made every move first, and I let him have all of the control. I think it's beyond time I started putting as much effort into the relationship as him. So, for the past week I have stalked him.

I have left messaged for him everywhere I know he frequents. I left a note at every restaurant he ever took me to. I even went to the Morningstar Hotel and demanded to speak to him. After making quite a racket, Doom's brother Pain came down to tell me he wasn't there.

On Sunday night I thought I felt his familiar presence. I looked around frantically, scrutinizing every shadow, but saw no evidence he was near. Disheartened, I continued on my quest to make him understand that my life is better with him in it.

Monday morning, I am dead on my feet. I nearly ran myself into the ground trying to find my Doom. Utterly exhausted, I drag myself into the office. Rachel greets me with a plastic smile. Her husband must have sent another ridiculous bouquet of roses. Who wants blood red roses anyway? They are too expensive and over done; it shows he didn't put in any thought towards the gift. He just gave his credit card number and told them to deliver the couple's special.

Brenda's sunny yellow dress nearly blinds me. Doesn't she know not to wear a summer dress to work in November? I push past her in the hallway, deliberately not wishing her a happy Monday like I normally would.

By the time I slam into my rolling desk chair, I am already ready to go home. God, I don't want to be here. When my office phone rings, I genuinely consider not answering. I don't know if I can make myself be the caring social worker I need to be for my kids. Fuck it.

"Eden." I bark my name in leu of a greeting into the receiver.

"Hello, this is Harrod from investigations. I understand you are the case worker for Ryan and Sarah Mathews?"

A lump forms in my throat. I cannot make myself from any kind of words. I manage to push a gargled tone of assent, and nearly burst into tears at Harrod's next words.

"I have read through your report on Mr. Matthew's employment situation. He has violated the term of the custody agreement, and we are hereby authorizing you to remove the children from his care. A copy of the paperwork will be sent to your office. Please make alternative arrangements for Ryan and Sarah's living situations."

I hang my head in defeat and mumble an agreement into the phone. When a secretary brings up a sealed envelope addressed to Mr. Matthews, I know it's time to face the kids I failed.

When I pull into the gravel drive on Mayberry street, my hands are shaking. I am on the verge of a panic attack. I can't handle this. I feel that I'm on the cusp of my breaking point. I don't think I can stand to separate such a loving family. Ryan and Sarah are Mr. Matthews' number one priority, which is more than most of the foster care parents can do. God, this just isn't fair.

My head is burning on the hot leather of my steering wheel. Just when I make a decision to leave and beg someone else to take Ryan and Sarah back into custody, I see a familiar tuft of fur.

I throw open my car door and race around to the back of the property. My flats quickly fill with dirt and rocks. I pay no mind to the gravel now embedded into the souls of my feet as I run towards the barking dog. When I around the corner of the small house, my jaw becomes unhinged.

"What... What are you doing with Duke, Mr. Matthews?"

"Mrs. Maxwell! I see you already know the newest member of the family." Mr. Matthews' voice is full of unexpected joy.

The giant German Shepard catches a familiar scent and starts barreling towards me. His giant paws connect with my chest and my ass hits the rocky ground with a decisive thud.

"Sorry about that, Ms. Maxwell. I've been working on his training, but we still have a long way to go."

"You adopted a dog? How could you? You're about to lose custody of grandkids, and instead of looking for a job that will allow you to keep them, you get a freaking dog." I couldn't hold back the disapproval in my voice even if I tried.

"Don't you see? This is my new job." I wait for the hysterical laughter to come because surly this man has lost his marbles.

"No. This is not a job. This is the opposite of a job. This is more responsibility with no pay. Actually, Duke will cost you money to take care of." I rise from the ground and brush the mess of dog fur and dirt off of my black skirt.

Duke is still dashing between us, waiting for one of use to give him the attention he craves. I'll admit, he looks very happy here. Mr. Matthews has clearly been taking good care of him. He's been bathed and well fed, not to mention the plethora of chew toys scattered about the yard.

"Ms. Maxwell, you don't understand. Here follow me." He motions for me to follow him inside the house.

He riffles through a large stack of documents sitting on the small round kitchen table. When he finds the one he is looking for, he looks reverently at the single sheet of paper before handing it over to me for my examination.

Dear Mr. Maxwell,

My company has recently partnered with City of Las Vegas Shelter, and has identified your household as a potential candidate for our rehabilitation center. Our goal is to give second chances to abused animals who are in need of long-term fostering. In exchange for you providing a healthy and safe environment for the recovery of your assigned dog Duke, we will compensate you $1,000 per week for your time. While you are allowed to hold a secondary position with another company, it is requested that you provide adequate shade and water for Duke while you are gone and for him not to be left alone for more than 8 hours in a day. This can be subsided by coming home on your lunch break or by having a pet sitter or another member of the family check in with him.

The following contract further outlines your potential responsibilities as Duke's caretaker. Please take a moment to read through the paperwork and contact me if you have any questions.

Hell Hound's Healing Inc.

Tears gather in my eyes, and I envelope Duke and Mr. Matthews in a large awkward hug. Just then, Ryan and Sarah walk through the front door. Sarah white knuckles her older brother's hand.

"Ms. Eden, What... What are you doing here?" Ryan's voice is wavers.

"Nothing. Not a damn thing." I say while joyful tears fall down my cheeks.

I make series of phone calls detailing the turn around in the Mathews' case, ensuring no one will follow up on the accusations of unemployment right there sitting in their small kitchen. When my phone calls are done, I join them for a simple lunch of Kraft mac and cheese with little hot dogs added in. Then, I spend some time showing Ryan and Sarah some of the tricks I learned during my time working with Duke at the hospital. Like how he loves to be pet right behind the ear, and how he can't stand it when his tail is touched. The kids are naturals. They absolutely adore the mass of fur and teeth. I know they are going to be okay.

The work day is almost over when I climb behind the wheel of my Camry. I feel lighter than I have since the Halloween party. I fit my key into the ignition and wait for the rumble of engine to begin. I nearly jump out of my skin when a thick wet line is drawn on the back of my neck.

"What the Hell?!" I turn in my seat to see Ceribe sitting in my back seat. Her massive frame takes up the entirety of the space. She isn't painting from the heat, so she couldn't have been here long. Ceribe shifts to stick her head above the center consol. During her movement, I see a white rectangle standing out in perfect contrast to her black fur. I run my fingers through the silky strands until my fingers connect with a business card.

On one side, gold printed letters reads "Hell Hound's Healing Inc. I flip the card over. In curled familiar calligraphy, reads "Come home Cherub. -TDH"