How Green Becomes Wood

"Well, it is in the past, now. It may not be something that may be entirely moved beyond, but I like to think it is easier for them because they have a support system." Dark replied simply, taking mental notes of Tristan's apparent feelings towards Declan.

"It's important to them that meeting them remains up to them," Daizi said, reaching with one hand to the side, where she was used to Ivy being, purely on instinct, "It might take some time. They don't have the... best... opinion of your family, I'm afraid."

"He had really said nothing of it to you?" Dark asked, tipping his head back, slightly.
 
"Not one word, but we have not had the best of relationships these last few years," Tristan admitted. "I had not talked to him for close to four years before he showed up on my doorstep and asked for money to pay his child support. The sheer shock of it got him in my door, but with his lifestyle, I cannot say I was too surprised." He paused and admitted guiltily, "Perhaps that is too harsh and judgemental of me. In any case, he would not want to admit to being a father because then our parents would expect him to bring them into the fold and be a... parent."
 
"What do you mean?" Daizi asked, furrowing her brows, "Had he admitted to getting a woman pregnant--" she paused, and then corrected herself, "No, sorry. Had he admitted to getting a girl pregnant, yout parents would have actually forced him to be involved with the children he sired? Instead of abandoning them, twice?"
 
Tristan hesitated before carefully saying, "Yes, but that is not exactly a good thing. For one thing, they would have still passed their idea of punishment on both Tara and Declan, but would have been particularly judgemental of Tara and blamed her for what had happened. Tara and Declan would have had a shotgun wedding, and Tara may have been forcibly brought into the clan, and I am not sure if that would have been any better than what very little I know of her life as it was."
 
"And had he claimed them the second time?" She asked, seriously, "Or if he came to them now and told them? What do you think they would do then?"

Dark looked at his wife, understanding what this line of questioning was about. The adoption wasn't finalized.
 
Tristan didn't say anything for a minute, staring off into the distance. He blinked, coming back, and smiled at Dark and Daizi, but it was a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I wouldn't worry about them. Declan has no interest in being a father in any sense of the term, and if he hasn't told them - which I highly doubt he has - they will never know. I will certainly not be the one to tell them, and I doubt any of my siblings would make the connection even if they were to meet them face to face."
 
"Good." Daizi said, despite knowing she probably shouldn't have, although she still didn't quite relax.

"It took a long time to get them settled," Dark explained, his impossibly intense expression still unchanging from the moment Tristan rolled up to them, "It would be hard on all of us if someone wanted to take custody of them."

"Is there anything else you want to know about us?" Daizi asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder to seem like she was less worried than she was.
 
"How long have you been fosters?" Tristan asked, his expression open and friendly. "Do you currently have other foster children, and have you had many before my, well, I suppose my nephews? That's an odd thing to think about. I'm an uncle." He smiled to himself, seeming rather pleased.
 
"They are our first ones," Dark answered, "and no other fosters. I cannot exactly say we intended to be foster parents, it is more accurate to say we fell into it."

Again, they wondered if they should bring up Ivy, but they really didn't know how to, or how she would be received. "We both feel really fortunate that we did."
 
"That must be an interesting story, but I will not ask it of you just yet," Tristan smiled. "If I may be potentially rude, are you natural citizens here? Or did you immigrate? I am mostly curious as to how difficult that would have made it for you to foster them. You are under no obligation to answer that question if I have overstepped my bounds."
 
Daizi exhaled lightly through her nose while Dark ran his tongue over his teeth as they both considered what information they felt comfortable sharing, "We're both citizens now, but neither of us are by birth. I'm from Egypt, and Dark Iraqi. We both still maintain citizenship in our respective countries, and before taking in the twins, we would visit my family in Egypt once a year, on average.'
 
"Oh, that's excellent!" Tristan smiled. "Not many people have the opportunity to learn of other cultures in such a first-hand way. I do not know much of Iraqi, and only a little of Egypt, but they are both beautiful places with such rich cultures. I am glad that did not cause you any troubles. Thank you for answering my questions. I appreciate your honesty and willingness to share what you have. Have you any questions for me I can answer?"
 
"It's been a bit complicated at times," Daizi admitted with a shrug, "but we make it work. Most of my family is very supportive, which can't always be said of them."

And my family is dead. Dark thought, but didn't say. "What is your job?" He asked instead, "You said you work at a lending company, but you did not say in which position."
 
"I'm one of the mortgage loan officers," Tristan replied easily. He reached down to rub his left leg, which finally stopped its trembling. "It's a medium-sized company, I would say, and I have been there three years this August. I believe in some companies I would be referred to as a 'junior officer,' but as there are only three others, they saw no reason to bother with sorting out the rankings underneath the senior officer, who has been there since the beginning of the company. You said you are a teacher? And you work at the museum?"
 
Daizi nodded, "That's interesting. Xander was a little apprehensive about it, I think he had a loan shark in his mind."

"I was their history teacher, a lifetime ago." Dark replied, "It is how I first met them, actually."

"And my responsibilities are a bit... complicated to explain. But I'm working remote for the time being, so you wouldn't run into me there." Daizi said, not flinching away from using the word 'run,' since she knew how irritating it was when people tried to avoid saying, 'see' around her.
 
"Ah, I understand. I get that a lot," Tristan shrugged. "I can explain my job to him more if he wants if we meet. It mostly deals in crunching numbers, watching the housing market, and explaining the same five things for an hour or more to multiple people a day. It is quite mentally draining, to be honest, but it pays well enough to keep me in wheels!" He smiled at his own joke before addressing Dark. "A history teacher? Now there's an important job that is very underrated. I was a terrible student, but, thankfully, I doubt you were even close to teaching yet when I was in school." To Daizi he admitted, "I have not been to the museum yet. I have been meaning to go. Would it be strange if I went now that I know you work there? I am not sure of the rules of our current relationship with each other."
 
"I have taught there for eleven years," Dark said, and despite his recent realization quitting may be right for him, he still felt some regret he didn't have more time, "I suspect we just missed each other, if you attended the same school I teach at."

Daizi shook her head and smiled an actually genuine smile at him, "It wouldn't be weird. I don't gatekeep science and history. And like I said, I'm not likely to be there in person.":
 
"If you teach here, then, no, we would not have run into each other, though if you and I had been at the same school, we would have just missed each other." He turned back to Daizi. "Then I will make more of an effort to go! I really have meant to, so I suppose this is a good push in that direction." He paused and tapped the table lightly with one finger. It seemed their time was likely coming to a close, but there was something he wanted to tell them. His voice softened slightly. "I meant what I said earlier about not needing to worry about the rest of my family. I have no intention of telling them anything, and neither will Declan. The boys are safe from them, and I can tell from talking to you that you are good people, meaning I have no intention of breaking what you have. I hope that comes as some comfort. I do really want to meet them, but I think more from my own guilt than anything else, so if they refuse, I shall do my best to accept that and leave you all in peace."
 
"Well, we're going to tell them what you told us," Daizi replied, moving closer to her husband and grabbing onto his arm, needing him for support, "I can't promise what they'll decide, but they're old enough to trust what they do choose. They're bonded enough to each other that if one of them says no, it's likely the other one will go along with it, as much as we've tried to break them out of it." She rubbed her thumb against Dark's bicep, "We'll talk to them when we get home and let you know what they say."
 
"Thank you," Tristan said sincerely. "I appreciate your time and your energy. And I thank you for picking up the slack where others failed them. I should take my leave of you now and let you get on with your evening." He started to pull away from the table and then paused. "Oh, by the way, I do not know if you've run across this yet, but one thing you should know on a medical level is that if they ever require anesthesia, they are going to need more than the average person. It's a red-head thing, apparently, that's been proven true in our family. Also, skin cancers are a problem."
 
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