The Parent's guide to raising the supernaturally gifted Child

The call came at two a.m. and Matt probably would have slept through it, if Jess hadn’t elbowed him in the ribs.

“Wha—” He opened his eyes, trying to reorient himself with the room, the shrill sound of the phone, the anxious, wide-eyed look on Jess’s face.

“It’s them,” she whispered hoarsely. Them. Oh crap! He sat up and fumbled for his phone. Hitting the speaker button, he set it on his knee and took a breath.

“Hello?” He said.

“Mr. Bennett, this is Kim Meeks from the Department of Family and Protective Services.”

“Hey, Ms. Meeks,” Matt said to the caseworker, trying desperately to keep his voice from shaking. “Jess is on the line, too.”

“Good,” Kim said and then, “We are needing an emergency placement. Are you and Mrs. Bennett prepared to take in an eighteen month old?”

Matt could hear the little gasp from Jess beside him. They’d been planning this, learning, training, prepping for months, but with one phone call, reality had shocked them both like a bucket of ice water over the head.

Matt turned to Jess, silently asking her if she was ready and her look of determination, laced with fear made him feel better. They were on the same page. They were doing this.

“Yes, Ms. Meeks. We’re ready.”

“Great.” Kim cleared her throat. “Are you prepared for fostering a child with special needs?”

#

An hour later Jess had changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt, fixed her hair, put on some concealer, while Matt still wore his sleep shirt and pajama bottoms.

“You trying to impress the baby?” He asked her with a tiny smirk. She rolled her eyes as she straightened the throw pillows on the couch in the living room.

“I want to make a good impression on the caseworker,” she said.

“It’s the middle of the night, babe. They don’t expect us to be—” a sharp knock halted his words.

Jess raced to the door and threw it open. Kim Meeks stood on their porch in a rumpled blouse, holding a squirming baby boy in her arms. He was clutching onto her, while also moving his head around, trying to take in everything.

The first thing Matt noticed were his eyes, huge and dark amber. He had soft caramel curls and he was wrapped up in a sweatshirt that was too big for him.

Without any preamble, Kim thrust the boy into Jess’s arms and stepped inside the house. She held a grocery sack on one arm.

“You have a bottle warmer?” She said as a greeting.

“Y-yes,” Jess said, seemingly stunned to be holding the baby. She readjusted him on her hip and looked to Matt with a tight smile.

“Right. So, I’ll briefly go over his specific care needs, but I’ll be emailing you a more extensive set of directions in the morning. I just didn’t have time tonight.”

Matt glanced over at the boy, scanning for any indication of what special needs he might have. He and Jess had been very clear with DFPS that they were open to taking in any child in need of fostering and they’d meant it, but that didn’t stop the trepidation in Matt’s brain that he wasn’t skilled enough to handle this tiny human.

Kim was already moving toward the kitchen. “This may be a long term placement,” Kim flipped on the light and went straight to the fridge. She reached into the grocery sack and retrieved several pouches, shoving them inside.

“Oh, we have formula,” Matt started, because she needed to know they were prepared. They had formula, diapers in various sizes, clothes too. But Kim shook her head and closed the fridge.

“No formula, he’s on a very specialized diet.”

“Okay?” Jess said nervously, still staring down at the boy in a sort of shocked fascination.

“Now, it’s important you keep the pouches refrigerated. Don’t freeze them. They should be good for about a week, but he’ll go through them pretty quick. We’ll set you up with a regular shipment for the duration of his time with you.” Matt nodded, wondering if he should be taking notes.

“When he’s hungry, pour the contents of the pouch into a bottle warm it to ninety-eight point six degrees. Try not to go warmer or it will deteriorate the platelets.”

“Platelets?” Matt asked, scrubbing a hand through his hair. This was all so much to remember. Kim nodded and she rushed back toward the door, all business.

“I’d just keep him inside as much as possible during the day, but if you do go out, make sure he’s got on sunscreen and sunglasses. There’s a pair in the sack. And other than that, you should be set for the next couple of days.” Kim turned and finally smiled at them before giving the boy a little squeeze on his chubby arm. She looked at him fondly.

“We don’t know his name, but we’ve been calling him George.” She said. George. The name made it real. For however long he needed them, this boy, George, was their responsibility. It was heavy and suffocating and beautiful.

Kim left and Matt turned to Jess. George was slumped against her shoulder, his eyes drooping closed. Jess rubbed his back in a soothing circle.

“Poor little guy, bet you’re exhausted.”

“Here, let me,” Matt said and held out his hands. Jess handed him over and Matt marveled at how small George was, how light and soft. He pressed his cheek against the boy’s hair and whispered, “We’re going to take care of you, buddy. You’re safe. I promise.” 

#

“Babe!” Matt didn’t take his eyes off the screen as he called out to Jess the next morning. Jess shuffled in, wearing her ratty bathrobe, her face still puffy from sleep.

“What’s up?” She mumbled.

“Just got the full report from Kim. George’s got a couple of allergies. Looks like garlic, silver… and, uh… crucifixes?” He turned and locked eyes with his wife, who was frowning slightly.

“He’s a vampire, right?”

“We can’t just make assumptions,” Jess argued, but Matt shook his head.

“Babe, he’s totally a vampire.”

“Well, crap.” Jess sat on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. “This was not in the course videos!”

Matt went and sat beside her, hesitantly putting a hand on her knee. “Do you think we should call Kim?”

“What?” Jess peered back at him with big, glassy eyes. “Do you?”

“I, uh…” Just then the baby monitor on the desk crackled with the sounds of soft whimpering and a then a shrill cry as George woke in his new bed.

“Matt?” Jess said, biting her lip.

The crying was distracting, penetrating Matt’s thoughts, his parental switches flipping.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s undead. He needs a family.” And Matt meant it.

Jess nodded. “We can do this.”

Relief washed over Matt as the two stood together and raced down the hall to comfort their boy.

#

“What the hell are you doing?”

Matt looked up to see Jess standing in the doorway to the living room, pulling the belt of her robe tight. She was rubbing her bleary eyes and frowned at him hard.

They’d had George for two weeks and the kid was thriving, despite putting his foster parents through the wringer.

“Please tell me you aren’t doing what I think you’re doing.”

Matt shrugged, glancing down at George, whose mouth was clamped onto Matt’s left wrist. Loud slurps emanated from their foster son as he drank greedily. Jess sighed loudly and came over, leaning against the arm of the chair and looking down at George’s sweet little face.

“It’s just easier,” Matt said, glancing up at her. “You know my last bloodwork came back completely normal, so it’s fine.”

“And how fine is it going to be when he sucks you dry?” Jess said.

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?” She scoffed. “You make it a habit of letting vampires drink your blood?”

“No, but he’s a baby vampire. His tummy is very small. He’ll get full and release me soon enough.”

“Fine, but don’t blame me when you pass out,” Jess said, but there was no heat in her tone. She sat on the arm of the chair and ran her fingers through Matt’s hair affectionately. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Not really,” Matt said, readjusting George in his lap. George let out a high pitched growl and latched on harder. “Woah, buddy, I’m just moving my leg so it doesn’t fall asleep.” Once George had relaxed and gone back to feeding, Matt leaned his head against Jess’s side. “It doesn’t hurt. It’s like this weird pulling sensation. And I feel like my energy is up, like I could run a marathon.”

“Yes, that’s called adrenaline, because you’re losing blood and your body is trying to survive as you go into shock.” Jess said.

“Maybe,” Matt said and then looking down at George, he said affectionately, “You wouldn’t kill me, right Georgie?” George grunted in response and continued drinking.

Jess just sighed and rubbed her temples. 

“My mom called to chew me out again.”

“What this time?” Matt asked, even as dark spots began floating in his vision.

“She doesn’t understand why we won’t have George baptized.”

Matt nodded and glanced down at the baby.

“Just tell her he’s allergic to holy water.”

“Yeah, that’ll go over well.”

“Look, Jess, he is who he is. We can’t abide by others’ expectations at the cost of this child’s wellbeing.”

“You’re right,” Jess said with just an air of reluctance. “Here, let me get you some Gatorade at least.”

“Thanks,” Matt called after her and began the process of prying little George’s fangs out of his wrist before he lost consciousness.

#

The play group Matt had started taking George to met at a community center in the mornings.
They’d had George for four months and the kid was becoming as interwoven in their lives as any biological child of their own. Since Jess worked in a big corporate office and Matt worked from home, he found himself the primary caretaker during the day. And since George had taken a strong liking to Matt’s blood, he was also the primary food source.

“Rough night?” One of the moms, Becky maybe, Matt thought, asked as the grownups sat around a folding table, while the kids played on the floor with wooden blocks. Matt looked up at her, blinking his dry eyes. He nodded. It was rough having a child who preferred nocturnal hours.

“Colic?” Maybe Becky asked.

“Uh… sort of.”

Matt turned and noticed George wasn’t in the corner where he’d been a second ago. He stood, an instinctual fear seizing his heart as he quickly surveyed the room. Little boys and girls played on the rug, but George wasn’t among them.

“Where’s George?” Matt said, shooting to his feet, pulse racing. Maybe Becky laid a hand on his arm.

“Hey, it’s okay, he’s under the table.” She pointed. “Look, he’s just playing with blocks.” 

Matt took a deep, cleansing breath before bending down and peering under the table. George sat, a grumpy little expression on his face as he clanged two blocks together.

No. Wait. Not blocks. Stakes. Those were wooden stakes.

Matt immediately dropped to his knees and swiped the stakes out of George’s hands, tossing them up on top of the table. George looked up at him as though Matt had taken away his most prized possession. His big eyes filled with tears and before Matt could utter a comforting word, George erupted into sobs.

Matt pulled George out from under the table and rubbed his back.

“Hey, hey, I know, I know… but you can’t play with wooden stakes. It’s not safe.” He glared down at the offending weapons. “Why are there wooden stakes where children can reach them?”

Maybe Becky picked up the stakes and then shot Matt an apologetic smile. “Must have accidentally gotten mixed up with the wooden blocks. I am so sorry, Matt.”

“It’s fine,” Matt huffed. It wasn’t fine. None of the other parents understood what it was like to have a vampire baby. None of the other parents had to choose their play group based on whether the group met outside in the daylight or in a church. None of the other parents had to keep a strict eye on the snacks to make sure no one had slipped in garlic. Not to mention the fact that George was sensitive. He fed off the emotions of others. When Rhonda had brought her twins that one time when they were teething, Matt had to take George home because George’s empathic abilities made his own fangs sting.

No, it wasn’t fine, but it was what it was and Matt would just have to deal. 

#

“Unbelievable.”

Matt looked up from the picnic blanket where he and his family were sitting to the woman standing in front of them.

It was a warm night in July and Matt and Jess had brought George out for his first fireworks show. George had gotten cranky and Matt had offered his wrist to the toddler, who sank his fangs in happily and gulped down the pulsing blood.

Now, as the kid fed, a complete stranger stood over the little family, glaring down, hands on her hips. Her eyes shot daggers as she frowned at Matt disapprovingly.

“There are families here, children,” the woman spat.

“Yes?” Jess gestured toward their foster son.

“It’s unseemly, letting him suck blood from you in public!” The woman pronounced. “At least have the decency to cover up. Ugh.” The woman turned on her heel and marched away.

“Hey,” Jess pressed her temple to Matt’s. “You okay?”

Matt let out a long exhale and grabbed for George’s security blanket. He draped it carefully over George’s face and his own, punctured wrist.

“I’m fine,” he lied. George didn’t appreciate being suffocated by the blanket while he fed and tried to kick it off. Matt readjusted it and then peeked under the blanket to gaze at the little boy. The toddler’s piercing stare sent a warm feeling through Matt that vibrated in his chest, thrummed through his veins, and lit up his mood instantly.

“We’re fine,” he said to Jess and pulled the blanket off his child. George instantly relaxed and drank more slowly.

“I’ve got your iron supplements in my purse,” Jess said to Matt, while she looked down lovingly at George. George released Matt’s wrist and smiled up at them, his lips and tiny teeth dripping with crimson.

And Matt smiled back.

“He’s getting bigger, you know,” Jess added. “We’re going to have to start weaning him off of you and onto other sources of blood if we want to keep him from draining you dry.”

Matt nodded. He glanced across the field toward the angry busybody who’d admonished him earlier for feeding his son in public. Little George followed his gaze and shifted slightly, his eyes flashing with a predatory spark. The bond between them was strong, made stronger by everything, by the extra work life threw at them. And it was worth it, Matt thought, as father and son surveyed their prey together.

“We will,” Matt said softly. “All in good time.”

---

The End