19. Sterling
This morning, I thought getting dressed for the day before the new case worker arrived would be a good idea. I’m not sure when or why, but I had stopped bothering getting dressed for the day until after Georgie had her breakfast. Maybe it was because, for her, at least, skin was easier to wash than clothes. If she got messy and sticky, a quick rinse in the shower was easy enough.
And for me, I didn’t want to repeat the effort. So, I took none. I also think I managed to earn some sympathy points with Cecelia if she showed up and I was still in lounge wear. I looked like the hard put upon, struggling bachelor that I was, thrust unceremoniously into fatherhood.
Surprise, it’s not your kid, but here you go, you now have a baby. Make it work. Cecelia was supposed to be the one helping me make it work. Instead, I now had to face down the stern woman who replaced her.
Cecelia may have made me nuts, but she was delightful and fun. This woman had the warmth of a container ship. Yeah, the whole ship.
Wayne showed her into the kitchen upon her arrival. Her name was Peggy Stanholt, and she was nothing if not prompt.
“You’re not ready for me?” she asked with an imperious tone.
“Breakfast is taking a bit longer than usual. Georgie is having some difficulties this morning.”
This morning was a prime example as to why breakfast was best served while the baby was in just a diaper. After it was clear she would prefer to wear her yogurt instead of eating it, I switched her to oatmeal in case this was her way of letting me know she didn’t want yogurt.
She took handfuls of the warm mush and then began yanking on her clothes. Oatmeal was ground into her collar and down her dress front, both inside and out. There was oatmeal in her hair. I was only aware of the oatmeal that I spooned directly into her mouth making it inside. And half of that, she pushed out with her tongue.
She wasn’t upset. At least there was that. No, Georgie thought this was great fun. She kicked and giggled and used her baby talk words, whatever they meant.
I had oatmeal smeared down one of my thighs, and my shirt looked like a Jackson Pollock painting if he had created using oatmeal and strawberry yogurt. The pants were Dolce Gabbana linen. I knew nothing about food stains on designer clothes. I just hoped they weren’t ruined.
“You should have had her fed and been ready with your questions by now,” Peggy repeated her complaint.
“I understand. However, as you are well aware, dealing with any of this is new for me. I’m learning that Georgie does not function on a timetable.”
She harrumphed.
“Wayne,” I started. “Why don’t you show Peggy?—”
“Ms. Stanholt,” she corrected.
“Ms. Stanholt to the living room,” I continued. “I am aware you are a busy woman, Ms. Stanholt, and that you have other appointments today. However, I simply cannot leave the baby in this condition while you review the status of our case. I will make this quick.”
“Why can’t he do it?” She pointed at Wayne.
“No, ma’am. I do not provide childcare. This way, please.” I shouldn’t have gotten so much pleasure as Wayne shut her down. He would hold Georgie long enough for me to take a short bathroom break, but he did not do much more with her. Nor should he. It wasn’t his job.
I grabbed Georgie, who giggled as if this were great fun.
“You are a complete mess.” I accepted that any mess on her was going to get on me and didn’t even try to keep her stickiness off my clothes.
It was easier to hose her off in the shower. I left our clothes in a pile on the shower floor. I pulled on a more casual pair of loose jeans and another button-down before getting Georgie into another cotton dress. Barefoot, but not wanting to keep Ms. Stanholt waiting, I padded across the penthouse to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle already made for the day for Georgie, and carried her into the living room with me.
“Everybody is less sticky this way,” I announced as I sat. I held Georgie tucked up against me. She cuddled in and drank her bottle. I think this morning had been entirely too stimulating for her and she was ready to settle down for a bit.
“I see in your file that you were to establish an emergency plan. How is that coming along?”
I shrugged. “Fine, I guess. There is a list on my refrigerator—much to Wayne’s dismay—listing the two closest ERs, and emergency phone numbers.”
“Why don’t I have a copy?”
“Because that was something I pulled together after my last meeting with Cecelia, per her instructions.” I leaned forward, hindered slightly by the baby tucked into my side. “Where is Cecelia?”
“Miss Harrison has been reassigned to a client better suited to her skill set.”
“She was doing a perfectly fine job with us. Georgie liked her.” My gut clenched. I wanted her back. “I found her to be more than competent and acceptable.”
The stern woman harrumphed again.
“Have you taken”—she flipped through the folder— “Georgie to the pediatrician yet?” Really? She hadn”t bothered to learn Georgie’s name?
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t.”
“She’s been to the zoo, but not the doctor?”
“Do you eat sushi, Ms. Stanholt?” I asked.
“I don’t see how this is relevant.” She rolled her eyes at me.
I stared her down and raised my eyebrows while I waited for her to answer.
“No, I do not eat raw fish.”
“Have you been to France? Paris?” I asked.
“Yes, but how is that relevant?”
“You’ve been to Paris, France, but you don’t eat sushi?”
She was fully confused. “Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“That’s exactly what you sound like when you ask if she’s been to the zoo before the doctor. A is not relevant to B. What would have been nice is your noticing that she hasn’t been to the doctor since I gained custody. And instead of trying to shame me for taking her to see some flamingoes and tigers, you should have handed me any medical records you may have for her.”
Peggy Stanholt pinched her face and squirmed with indignation. Had she huffed out a, ‘well, I never,’ I would not have been shocked.
“Georgie has an appointment next week,” I continued. “It would have been nice to have been able to provide something more than her date of birth. I should probably get a copy of her birth certificate. I don’t even know where she was born.”
Ms. Stanholt flashed me a look of concern. “Is that an issue?”
I was already tired of fighting this woman, and we hadn’t been talking for very long. This wasn’t some meeting to make sure I had what I needed. This was a tug of war. I wanted Cecelia back.
“Ms. Stanholt, I understand that I am seen as a temporary guardian while the lawyers of my late sister’s estate exhaust themselves finding Georgie’s father based on some cryptic piece of information my sister left. I have come to accept that Argene possibly did that so that after her death, I wouldn’t find out that she had no idea who Georgie’s father actually was. My sister kept secrets from the family and from me. I sense this might be her last one. My understanding is that while a ‘father’ was mentioned, his name was not. Knowing what I thought I did of Argene, it’s not unreasonable to ask the location of the baby’s place of birth.”
“As a temporary guardian, I don’t see how that is a concern.”
It was my turn to huff. “Because I doubt this is a temporary situation. I would like to get my own lawyers lined up to establish full custody when the time comes. Even if Georgie remains my ward, she’ll need passports, a Social Security number, and identification. I need a birth certificate to get that taken care of.”
“I’ll add your concerns to my notes. I see other progress has been made regarding furnishings.” She tried to change the subject. “At least you seem to be efficient at bathing the child.”
With Cecelia, Georgie and I had been people with needs and she was there to help. Even if she had to scold me about it first. With this woman, we were nothing but boxes to be checked off a list.
“Do you have any information regarding the status of her father?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
I meant did they have a clue what they were doing? Were they close, or was there really no way of knowing who the man was? George dropped the bottle, and I realized she was sound asleep. I shifted to hold her so she would be more comfortable. It had taken weeks, but holding her was natural. I didn’t have to think about it. I realized I didn’t want some nameless man who”d contributed some random genetic material to take her away from me.
I needed my appointment with Peggy Stanholt to wrap up soon. I had things to do, the first being contacting my lawyers about establishing a more permanent custody arrangement, and second being contacting the PI I had looking for Georgie”s father.