5. Nate
five
Nate
Aquiet hum fills the room, and goosebumps rise on my arms as cool air blows from the vent behind my chair. But feeling cold seems to be my new state of being. I’ve been chilled ever since I got the call last week.
Quinn starts to fuss in my mom’s lap, and I reach for her automatically.
She leans toward me with a pitiful whine.
I scoop her into my arms and stand, bouncing her gently.
She cuddles into my chest as I sway her by the window, looking into the parking lot of Willow Bend’s only law office.
Mom hands me the bottle she was trying to get Quinn to take, and I offer it to Quinn.
She takes it without hesitation, and Mom blows out a sigh. “I don’t understand why she won’t take a bottle for me.”
I prop the bottle against my chest and brush the little wisps of Quinn’s hair back from her face.
I’ve been staying with Mom and Dad to help out with Quinn, and for some reason, she’ll only take a bottle from me.
Her bright blue eyes—the same shade as Vi’s—blink slowly, and she balls my shirt in her little fist, like she needs reassurance that I won’t let her go while she sleeps.
Like she needs to know that I won’t leave her.
Blinking rapidly to cool the heat in my eyes, I pull her in closer and drop a kiss on her forehead as the door to the conference room swings open and the lawyer, Paul, finally walks in.
He scans the room with a somber smile, greeting Mom and me with a nod. Dad rises from his chair and meets him with a handshake.
Paul sighs and shakes his head. “Good to see you, Scott, but I hate that it’s under these circumstances.”
Dad nods and swallows thickly. “Me too, Paul.”
I let my mind wander, focusing only on Quinn’s sleepy face to tune out the condolences I’ve heard repeatedly and Mom and Dad’s emotional responses. Quinn’s blinks get longer and slower until she finally lets her eyes fall shut, and her breaths deepen.
As I brush Quinn’s hair back, I trace her cheek and ear with my fingertip.
Watching her grow has been an amazing experience.
The way she developed from a peanut-shaped blob on an ultrasound image into this perfectly formed tiny human is the most convincing evidence of God’s existence I’ve ever witnessed.
But now, this precious little girl has to face the world without her parents. Vi and Landon don’t get to watch all the ways she’ll change in the years to come.
My sweet little niece is an orphan.
My chest aches as the realization lands and takes root.
A small, strong hand on my shoulder brings my attention back to the other people in the room. Mom keeps her voice soft, trying not to wake Quinn. “Nate, why don’t you come sit down? Paul is ready to get started.”
I nod and join them at the table, sinking slowly and carefully into my chair, so I don’t jostle the sleeping baby.
As I settle into the seat, Quinn takes a long breath and blows it out slowly, nestling closer to my chest. I set the bottle that I had pinned between us onto the table and run my hand up and down Quinn’s back a few times, needing her presence as much as she needs mine.
Paul clears his throat and opens a folder he brought into the room. “As you all are well aware, we’re here today to read the Last Will and Testament of Mr. Landon Ellis and Mrs. Violet Walker Ellis…”
I clench my jaw and avert my gaze, trying not to tear up again as he continues, but despite my best efforts, my eyes are hot and itchy. I shouldn’t be holding my infant niece while listening to my sister and brother-in-law’s will.
This isn’t right.
God, why? Why them? I would never wish this on anyone else. But I don’t understand why this had to happen now.
Quinn squirms against my chest, and I watch her face, holding my breath until she settles down and continues sleeping. Her soft, warm weight against my chest is a comfort I didn’t realize I would need so desperately.
“…to Nathaniel Walker.”
Paul’s eyes meet mine as I look up at him. I raise my brows, entirely unaware of anything that was said before my name. “What was that?”
He takes off his reading glasses and turns the full force of his icy blue eyes on me. “Violet and Landon have named you as their daughter’s legal guardian.”
I freeze, feeling my eyes widen. “Her what?”
He draws a breath and pours patience into his expression. “Quinn is in your custody now. You’re legally responsible for her. Your sister and brother-in-law left her in your care.”
I sit up abruptly, and Quinn startles in her sleep.
Drawing a deep breath to fight off the panic I feel building in my chest, I pat her back and bounce her softly until she settles down again.
I scan my parents’ expressions, finding less surprise there than I expect, then turn back to Paul.
“Me? Are you sure you’re reading that right? ”
He blows a soft chuckle and nods. “Yes, I’m reading it correctly.”
I frown as I search his expression. “Why would they pick me instead of Mom and Dad?”
Mom sets her hand on my forearm and pats it soothingly.
“Because they didn’t want Quinn to lose her grandparents, too.
” She clears her throat and shifts in her seat.
“She called me after Quinn was born, when they started putting this together, and explained it to me so that I wouldn’t be blindsided if anything ever happened. ”
Must be nice, I think, barely stopping myself from verbalizing the quip.
Mom’s eyes well with tears again, but she powers through.
“She said they chose you to be her guardian so that your dad and I wouldn’t have to be both parents and grandparents to Quinn.
They felt it was important for us to remain in a grandparent role since Landon’s parents aren’t involved—we’re the only grandparents she has.
She also mentioned that they wanted someone closer to their age to raise her—someone with the same beliefs and background who would raise her as they would have. ”
Dad leans his elbows on the table, looking over Mom to meet my gaze. “But raising Quinn will be a team effort. You won’t be alone in this, son.”
Mom turns to me with raised brows. “Oh, of course, we’ll be here to help you take care of her.”
Blinking, I shake my head. I love my parents, but if the plan is for them to continue in their grandparent roles, meaning they keep their current lifestyle, I’m not sure how much help they’ll be day-to-day.
Mom works long hours at her bakery, and Dad is a long-haul truck driver.
Mom started baking after Vi and I moved out because she said she needed something to do while Dad was gone.
It evolved into a very successful business.
Dad is gone for an average of two weeks each month.
They’ll be there to help, but it’ll be on me to do the heavy lifting.
My gaze drops to Quinn, still sleeping peacefully in my arms. That tight and frantic feeling is a faint pressure in my chest as I pull her closer, using her comforting weight as a countermeasure against the panic.
I draw a slow, deep breath, vaguely recalling another comforting weight on my chest the last time it was tight like this.
But now is not the time to think about Lucy Burke.
I let my eyes slip closed, not caring that Paul is waiting on me to get it together so he can continue, and I pray. This time I’m not asking God why. I’m asking Him how.
How do I do this, Lord? How do I raise this perfect little girl? I’m not equipped for this. I’m not ready for this. There has to be another option—someone who is more qualified than I am. How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to replace them?
I don’t hear a miraculous, booming voice from the Heavens giving me all the information and guidance I need. I don’t even hear a small, still voice whispering the secrets of parenthood in my ear. Although it’s frustrating, I know that God will reveal an answer to me eventually.
Until then, I’ll just take it a day at a time and pray through it.