the conversation. It’s not quite the way I wanted this evening to go.”
“Please.” I reached across the table and touched his hand. Never had I heard so much passion, so much sympathy in a man’s voice. He was obviously deeply involved in his work. Loved what he was doing, yet there was something like anger in him, too. “How do you get started? I mean I know you meet with the foster parents, but then what?”
“I usually have to be creative. No two kids are alike. The effects of trauma on any individual are personal and some kids are more resilient than others. For example, two children came into custody – an 18 month old boy and an eight weeks premature newborn. Baby was tox positive – exposed to drugs in utero, prenatal care minimal. The little boy didn’t speak and was prone to violent rages/tantrums. We could hold the little girl in the palm of our hands. Nine months later, our little guy is still prone to some pretty wild rages when things don’t go his way or he’s scared – but when he sees his foster mom, he lights up like a Christmas tree. He speaks in short sentences, has favorite toys and knows how to play. He loves books. We think he’d never seen one before. Our baby girl weighs fifteen pounds and is the happiest, sweetest natured child. She’s crawling and meeting most developmental milestones.”
The look on his face changed while he told me the story. From anguish to pure joy. Definitely a man who loved his work and took it to heart. “No wonder you said it was rewarding.”
He took the last swig of his beer and twirled the bottle. “Yeah, but they don’t all end up with such happy endings. My job also entails working with the bio family in hopes of reuniting them. One set of parents I have come and go so the county is filing for permanent custody so the parental rights will be terminated. But who knows? The kids can still go home and that will break our hearts, unless those two work hard to pull it together and it doesn’t look too promising. Enough about me. Tell me about your work, your kids.”
“My work is boring in comparison. My day is filled with numbers. My kids, that’s another story. Katie, as I said before, has adjusted to Johnny being gone. Josh, on the other hand worries me to death. He’s so withdrawn. Although lately, since he stayed with my friend while I was out of town, h e’s come out of his shell a little more. My father said I should leave him alone. He’s probably right, but it kills me to see him reclusive. Josh used to be outgoing, confident.”
“I know what you mean. Randy went completely in the other direction. I’m at my wits end trying to figure out what to do with him.” Carr raised his bottle for a refill as the waitress approached our table with the pizza and pointed to my empty glass. “There I go again, monopolizing the conversation. Sorry.”
“I believe Randy was the reason for this meeting.”
Carr leaned back and smiled. “Well, actually that was a ruse. I wasn’t sure how else to get you to agree to a date.”
“Oh, so that was all a pretense.” I couldn’t help but laugh, yet I was flattered. It was probably one of the nicest things anyone had said to me in a long time. I wasn’t used to men paying attention to me. And he said it with such sincerity. “Do you often use your son to get dates?”
“To be honest, I haven’t been on a date since Barbara and I split up.” He set a slice of pizza on each of our plates and handed one to me.
Now that surprised me. He didn’t look like the type who’d be without a woman. Still, he hadn’t lived up to my expectations so far. I’d never have pegged him for a cop, let alone a social worker. More like a lawyer. With his good looks and charismatic smile, he’d dazzle any courtroom. Or maybe a corporate lawyer. Obviously, you couldn’t judge a book by its cover. I couldn’ t have been more wrong about him. His honesty impressed me.
“So tell me, what do you do for
“Please.” I reached across the table and touched his hand. Never had I heard so much passion, so much sympathy in a man’s voice. He was obviously deeply involved in his work. Loved what he was doing, yet there was something like anger in him, too. “How do you get started? I mean I know you meet with the foster parents, but then what?”
“I usually have to be creative. No two kids are alike. The effects of trauma on any individual are personal and some kids are more resilient than others. For example, two children came into custody – an 18 month old boy and an eight weeks premature newborn. Baby was tox positive – exposed to drugs in utero, prenatal care minimal. The little boy didn’t speak and was prone to violent rages/tantrums. We could hold the little girl in the palm of our hands. Nine months later, our little guy is still prone to some pretty wild rages when things don’t go his way or he’s scared – but when he sees his foster mom, he lights up like a Christmas tree. He speaks in short sentences, has favorite toys and knows how to play. He loves books. We think he’d never seen one before. Our baby girl weighs fifteen pounds and is the happiest, sweetest natured child. She’s crawling and meeting most developmental milestones.”
The look on his face changed while he told me the story. From anguish to pure joy. Definitely a man who loved his work and took it to heart. “No wonder you said it was rewarding.”
He took the last swig of his beer and twirled the bottle. “Yeah, but they don’t all end up with such happy endings. My job also entails working with the bio family in hopes of reuniting them. One set of parents I have come and go so the county is filing for permanent custody so the parental rights will be terminated. But who knows? The kids can still go home and that will break our hearts, unless those two work hard to pull it together and it doesn’t look too promising. Enough about me. Tell me about your work, your kids.”
“My work is boring in comparison. My day is filled with numbers. My kids, that’s another story. Katie, as I said before, has adjusted to Johnny being gone. Josh, on the other hand worries me to death. He’s so withdrawn. Although lately, since he stayed with my friend while I was out of town, h e’s come out of his shell a little more. My father said I should leave him alone. He’s probably right, but it kills me to see him reclusive. Josh used to be outgoing, confident.”
“I know what you mean. Randy went completely in the other direction. I’m at my wits end trying to figure out what to do with him.” Carr raised his bottle for a refill as the waitress approached our table with the pizza and pointed to my empty glass. “There I go again, monopolizing the conversation. Sorry.”
“I believe Randy was the reason for this meeting.”
Carr leaned back and smiled. “Well, actually that was a ruse. I wasn’t sure how else to get you to agree to a date.”
“Oh, so that was all a pretense.” I couldn’t help but laugh, yet I was flattered. It was probably one of the nicest things anyone had said to me in a long time. I wasn’t used to men paying attention to me. And he said it with such sincerity. “Do you often use your son to get dates?”
“To be honest, I haven’t been on a date since Barbara and I split up.” He set a slice of pizza on each of our plates and handed one to me.
Now that surprised me. He didn’t look like the type who’d be without a woman. Still, he hadn’t lived up to my expectations so far. I’d never have pegged him for a cop, let alone a social worker. More like a lawyer. With his good looks and charismatic smile, he’d dazzle any courtroom. Or maybe a corporate lawyer. Obviously, you couldn’t judge a book by its cover. I couldn’ t have been more wrong about him. His honesty impressed me.
“So tell me, what do you do for
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