Chapter 5 #2
The scene felt like a chaotic blur—her struggling to disentangle the cord from the walker, the baby food jar thudding on the floor, Dad standing unsteadily, Bella fussing, and Lauren typing away without offering to help.
If only Lauren would stop taking notes and lend a hand, then Claire wouldn’t feel like she was failing some impossible test.
Her pulse raced in time to Lauren’s fingers tap-tap-tapping across the tablet with finality. Great, like Claire’s stomach, the lines on Lauren’s face tightened with each tap.
“May I tour the house?”
Just those words were enough to make the space close in, to magnify every bit of clutter. Claire’s mind spun with a thousand things she should have done differently, from the tangled oxygen tubes in the hall to the dishes still stacked in the sink.
They passed through the hallway.
“Does your father live here with you full time?”
“Yes.” Claire pressed at the tightness in her stomach. She glanced at Bella, now distracted in her bouncer but likely moments away from another fussy spell.
Brrrring!
The timing couldn’t have been worse for Dad’s medication alarm. She and Lauren hovered in the hallway. “I need to get my dad some food before he takes his meds.”
Lauren nodded, so Claire dashed to the kitchen.
She yanked open the oven, only to be met with the acrid smell of burnt food.
The edges charred beyond salvage, she scraped at the less-burnt parts.
But it was a lost cause. She whipped together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and apologized to Dad for the dinner crisis before returning to Lauren.
Lauren paused by Albert’s closed bedroom door.
Oh no. Not happening. Claire hurried over to clarify the room was off-limits.
“Bella used to sleep in there with her dad.” She led Lauren through the hallway to show her the other rooms. “Dad’s room is to the left, and then this is ours.
” She then stepped into the room she now shared with Bella and flicked on the light now that the evening gloom had settled in.
The unpleasant smell from Bella’s potty lingered. She should’ve sprayed air freshener. Her dresser with her shells and gemstones littered all over it made her chest tighten. A worn blanket lay spread on the floor with a couple of unused diapers.
Lauren’s gaze now focused there. Great.
“That’s where I change her.” Heat prickled Claire’s face as she explained the haphazard setup. When Lauren frowned at the dresser, Claire gestured to its bead bins and the half-finished designs on the bead board. “That’s my workstation. I design jewelry whenever I can.”
Bella’s plastic chest of drawers with unfolded clothes sticking out, Claire’s unmade bed, the Pack ’n Play and its rumpled blanket, and the dresser and worktable all made the room more cramped. The closet was too small to fit anything besides her clothes hanging on a rack.
“I understand you’ve had a lot to manage. Do you take care of your dad full time?”
Claire swallowed and braced against the dresser, arms crossed as she tried to appear composed. She should explain that today had been an off day, that things weren’t usually so chaotic, but she couldn’t muster the energy to pretend. “Yes.”
“And you have extra help?”
Claire drew out a breath. She didn’t have to answer the obvious.
“Taking care of your father full time is a lot of work.”
“My friend helps if I need help.” Irina was a caregiver, but Claire only begged her help when she needed to go somewhere and Irina was off from her paying job.
“I have to say the oxygen tube—”
“I know. Dad needs to get around, and sometimes, well, the tube…” Claire shuddered. “We’ll have to figure something out once Bella begins to crawl. Right now, she only scoots on her stomach, barely mobile.”
They moved to the bathroom where Dad had forgotten to flush. She flushed, the smell overpowering. Spraying air freshener and tidying up, she cringed at the state of things—a half-full trash can with Dad’s disposable briefs, Bella’s bath toys scattered in the tub.
Lauren, having seen enough, stepped back into the hallway. Claire followed, her heart sinking when they moved to the kitchen with the sink full of dishes and the burnt pan on the counter. Dad called, requesting his protein shake and pulling Claire away once more.
When Claire returned, Lauren was leaning against the kitchen counter. “There’s not a single cover on all the electrical outlets.”
“Uh, I didn’t know that was a thing.” Claire swallowed. “I’ll have to research them.” Albert mustn’t have thought of that safety precaution either.
“I know this is a difficult situation.” Lauren’s lips flattened. She set her tablet against her chest, her tone more direct. “You’ve taken on a lot with your father’s health and Bella’s care.”
“It’s not a problem taking care of them.” Did this woman think Claire was failing? Was she failing? The pan, the clutter… Dad in the next room who’d probably forgotten why Lauren was here… Her confidence wavered.
“Claire, you clearly love them both.” Despite the gentle words, Lauren’s eyes narrowed. “You’re doing an admirable job, but you’re overwhelmed.”
“I’m fine.” Claire’s voice came out sharp, more defensive than she intended. Surely, this woman wouldn’t think Bella needed to be in the foster system as if she had no family!
“Bella’s grandparents. Her mom’s parents…” Lauren ventured.
Chills washed over Claire. She shifted her weight from one foot to another. “The Weavers have never been a part of her life.”
“They’ve expressed interest in Bella. They’ve spoken with their attorney and are prepared to pursue legal action if necessary.”
Claire rushed to where Bella was happily cooing. She scooped up the baby, held her close, and breathed in her baby scent, trying to steady her trembling hands. Losing Bella to the Weavers would be unbearable. “Albert wanted me to take care of her.”
“Tell me about Wade.” Lauren’s voice followed her, probing. “If nothing’s changed from the movie posters I see in cafés and theaters, he seems to have his hands tied. Is he okay being a guardian?”
“Yes,” Claire lied.
“He’s in LA right now, correct?”
“But he comes to Pleasant View often.”
If she lived in town, Lauren must know about Wade and his family. “He has family here and flies in his private jet whenever…” Great. Her attempt to paint a rosy picture sounded desperate, didn’t it?
“But I’m Bella’s aunt.” Claire refocused on her primary role, Bella’s little fingers reaching up to pat her neck as if sensing her need for comfort. “I’ve always been the one taking care of her.”
“I don’t doubt your commitment to Bella.” Lauren crossed her arms. “But the court will determine the best living environment for her. Her grandparents have a stable household, solid financial resources, and the ability to provide full-time care.”
“You”—Claire’s voice cracked—“make it sound as if the Weavers are taking Bella away.”
Lauren sighed. “Claire, no one’s questioning your love for Bella. But from what I’ve seen today, you’re under a lot of pressure. Caring for your father and Bella is a huge responsibility.”
“I don’t want to lose her.”
“Everything okay, Claire?” Dad’s voice cut through.
She pivoted and caught his concern, his hands trembling as he clutched the protein shake. His once sharp mind now caught only fragments of their reality. She didn’t want to worry him.
“Everything is okay.” It had to be okay.
Since Albert’s death, she hadn’t attended church as she used to.
While Dad and Albert had begun attending a different church, she still went to the one her parents attended since her childhood.
They had no idea of her new role as guardian, and she felt the acute absence of her church community’s support.
“Talk to Wade.” Lauren headed toward the door. “I’ll be back next month. The first three months, I’ll come by once a month unless things change.”
Claire nodded, the room spinning around her as Lauren outlined the schedule that could entail Bella’s placement. The situation crushed Claire’s chest, each word adding heavier stones to the weight already building there.
The moment Lauren left, Claire snuggled Bella back in the bouncer, unwilling to trust her trembling hands to hold her.
She retreated to her bedroom and dialed Wade.
He answered on the second ring, and her control burst. “Bella’s grandparents want to take her from us!
” She gasped for air, her vision blurring.
“Cupcake.” Wade’s voice came through calm, repeating her name as she sobbed. “It’s okay. No one is taking Bella. I promise.”
She clutched the phone and paced in the cramped room.
“How can you be sure?” Could he even hear her broken whisper?
“Trust me. I’ll handle this. I’ll make some calls. But no one is taking our little girl.”
Our little girl. The protective edge in the way he said it made her dismiss her doubts about him. He was the caring Wade she knew. His steady breaths defused her sobs.
“I’ll call you back in a few hours once I’ve spoken with the attorney, all right?”
She clung to his words. Maybe, somehow, Wade could keep everything from falling apart.
“I don’t want you to worry, okay?”
That was easier for him to say. He wasn’t in her position.