Chapter 11 CPS
CPS
Abby paced back and forth in the small reception area of the Department of Family Services. She ran her finger over the cuticle of her thumb, raw and chapped from being chewed on. She eyed the office door of Erin Readman, the social worker Katherine had made the appointment with.
“Hey.” Katherine touched her shoulder gently. “How’s it going?”
“I’m not sure. She spoke with both of us and then asked me to step out so she could speak to Olivia alone.”
“That’s normal,” Katherine said. “She needs to get an unbiased account from Olivia. A lot of times, the parents or guardians answer for the kid or give unspoken direction—or threats. Erin is one of the best. She really cares about the kids.”
Katherine pulled Abby over to the chairs and got her to sit. “How did it go this weekend?”
“Kind of surreal. I took her shopping for clothes Saturday after you left. She would only let me get her a few things. I took her and Will to the Isle of Palms on Sunday.”
“How has she been with Will?”
“She’s been great,” Abby said. “She’s played with him and read with him. She’s been like a big sister.”
“How has she been with you?” Katherine asked.
“Reserved and polite is probably the best way to describe it.”
“That’s to be expected,” Katherine said. “She’s been through some major emotional trauma in the last six months. It’s going to take some time for her to get a sense of you. I know one of the recommendations from Erin will be for a therapist.”
Abby nodded. She’d already planned to ask hers for a recommendation.
“Have you given any thought to long-term arrangements?” Katherine asked.
“A little. In a vague kind of way,” Abby said. “I feel like everything happened so fast. I’ve been so focused on what’s happening in the moment, figuring out what help and resources I need that I haven’t let myself really think about it.”
“If the court grants you guardianship, would you take her in? Permanently?” Katherine asked.
Abby inhaled and tried to envision all the ways life would change with the addition of a twelve-year-old girl, and she couldn’t. Everything she pictured felt like a cheesy fairytale story or a tragic Lifetime documentary. But…
“Yes. I…don’t know how to explain it, or describe it, but I feel about Olivia the same way I feel about Will. She’s a piece of me, even though she’s not mine.”
She laughed and heard the edge of panic. “I have no idea how it’s going to work or any illusion that it’s going to be easy, but…yes. She belongs with me and Will.”
“It’s good that you’re scared,” Katherine said.
Abby laughed disbelievingly. “How is it good?”
“It means you care and that’s the most important thing.”
Abby wasn’t scared—she was terrified. She had no idea what to do with a traumatized preteen.
Katherine reached into her small tote bag and pulled out a business card. “Here. My friend Magda is a family law attorney. She can help you navigate this whole process. I told her to expect your call.”
Abby might be edging into heroine worship territory. “Thank you so much for all your help. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“I think you would have figured it out. You don’t seem like the kind of woman to back down from a challenge.”
The office door opened, and Erin stepped out. “Hi, Katherine. Abby, could you join us?”
Abby and Katherine stood.
Katherine pulled Abby in for a quick, tight hug. “You have my number. Call if you need anything.”
Abby nodded and went into the small, yet comfortable office. The office had surprised her. She’d expected sterile government-issue decor, but the room was surprisingly warm and welcoming. Next to a small seating area there was a child-sized table and chairs and bins with dolls and toys.
Erin welcomed her with a smile, which Abby returned nervously as she sat next to Olivia in the chairs across from Erin’s desk.
“Olivia shared the events and circumstances that brought her here to you. Under usual circumstances, a runaway would be placed with a foster family,” Erin said.
Abby’s heart thudded against her chest and her stomach twisted. “But—”
“But…” Erin held up her hand. “Given the familial connection, tenuous as it is, I agree it’s in Olivia’s best interest she stay with you while we get the permanent placement settled with the court.”
Abby sighed and her shoulders relaxed. “What does that involve? Getting it settled with the courts?”
“You need to go through the approval process to become a foster parent,” Erin said.
“Even though we have a family connection?” Abby asked.
“Yes, it’s standard procedure when a guardian isn’t legally designated by a parent,” Erin explained. “Even if the guardian is a close relative.”
“Okay. What else?” Abby asked.
“With what Olivia told me, I’m going to file for temporary emergency custody. She’ll be assigned a guardian ad litem—someone who will represent Olivia, and only Olivia, in court. I will reach out to the Social Security office to have her mother’s death benefits sent to you.”
Abby looked at Olivia. “Do you already have an account that money goes to?”
Olivia shrugged. “I didn’t even know I was supposed to be getting money.”
Abby rubbed Olivia’s shoulder. “We’ll get it taken care of this week.”
Erin beamed at her, then looked at her notes. “I’ll have to confirm the biological father, Anthony Messina, terminated his parental rights.”
Abby inhaled sharply. Please, god, don’t say he needs to be involved in this.
“I understand he is also your son’s biological father,” Erin said.
“Technically, yes. But he’s not on the birth certificate,” Abby said. “Does it matter?”
“It shouldn’t. But your son and Olivia being half-siblings helps your case,” Erin said.
Erin went through the application process, scheduled a home visit, and discussed the process to obtain legal guardianship of Olivia. It was so much information. So much paperwork. Why was it so hard to give a child a home?
Abby’s phone pinged and she pulled it from her purse. It was a reminder to pick up Will from the sitter. She looked at the time on her phone, then glanced at the wall clock to confirm it was correct.
“I need to pick up my son,” she told Erin. “Is there much more we need to go over?”
“I think I have everything I need. If there’s anything else, I’ll give you a call,” Erin said.
Abby stood, shook Erin’s hand, and thanked her. Olivia was quiet while they left the office. She’d been quiet for most of the meeting, only answering questions when asked directly.
Abby buckled in but didn’t start the car. “Olivia, are you okay with all this? I know this is a lot and it’s happening fast. If you’re uncomfortable or want to slow down the process, we will. If there’s someone else you’d rather live with, I’ll contact them and explain the situation.”
“There isn’t anyone else.” Her voice was so soft and small Abby could barely hear her.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have no choice or no voice in this process. This is your life. If you want to live with me, I will do everything in my power to make it happen. No matter what.”
Olivia looked at her, brown eyes shiny with tears. “I want to live with you,” she said firmly.
Abby nodded. “Then let’s make it happen.”
By the time they picked up Will and made it home, Abby had a list of twenty-thousand and one things to do, the most pressing of which was to make dinner since they ate early, around five-thirty, to give her time to play with Will before his bedtime at seven.
Abby stood in front of the open fridge waiting for a package of chicken breast to magically appear.
She sighed and closed the door. She’d completely forgotten to go to the store yesterday for the weekly shopping.
Sunday was her usual shopping day, but with everything that had happened with Olivia, she’d forgotten all about it.
There were three possible options. Pack the kids back up and go to the store, which was never ideal because Will always asked for extra snacks and she always ended up getting more things than she needed.
Ask Olivia to watch Will while she ran to the store—not ideal at all to relegate Olivia to the role of babysitter three days after she joined their family.
Or pizza, which was a once in a while treat, but seemed like the best option.
Midway through ordering online, the doorbell rang.
“I get it!” Will called.
Abby chased after him. “Will! Do not open the door by yourself.” She got to the door as Will turned the deadbolt and opened the door. The little escape artist. She reminded herself again to install a lock higher up out of his reach.
She picked him up and set him on her hip. Her eyes widened at the sight of Tinker standing on the threshold holding two paper bags from her favorite barbecue place.
“Piggy!” Will said.
“Tinker.” He pointed at himself.
Abby internally shook herself and tried to scoop up what remaining wits she had. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I ran into Katherine and asked how today went. She said it seemed to go well, but you might be a little overwhelmed with all the information you got. I figured I’d take a chance you weren’t up for making dinner.”
He held up the bags from Porky’s Pit Stop, the fat cartoon pig chowing down on a rib. That always struck her as wrong.
“If you’ve already got it covered, it’ll keep in the fridge till tomorrow,” he added.
She shook her head and opened the door wider, sweeping her arm out in invitation. “I was in the middle of ordering pizza, so this is a lot better. Thank you.”
She shut the door, slid the deadbolt, and set Will down. “Go wash your hands for dinner.”
He ran off yelling “piggy” at the top of his lungs.
She shook her head and led the way into the kitchen.
Every nerve ending in her body seemed to be tuned to his presence at her back.
It felt electric, like a current running between them.
Which was ridiculous. He was just a guy who happened to make her clit pulse one time.
He set the bags down on the counter and started unpacking them.
“This is a lot of food,” she said.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got one of everything.”
Her mouth fell open. There were at least half a dozen options on the menu, and that didn’t include the sandwiches. “You’re staying to help eat this, right? We’ll never be able to get through all this.”
He stopped, arm still in a bag, and looked at her. “You good with that?”
Oh. She’d just invited him to dinner. On one hand, it seemed mean not to invite him when he’d gone out of the way to bring her food, and good food at that.
On the other, she wasn’t sure why he’d done it or what he hoped to get out of it.
Was there an ulterior motive? Was it an apology for ghosting her before?
“I won’t stay,” he said.
Abby shook her head. “No, stay. It’s fine.”
“You’re thinking about it too hard for it to be fine,” he said.
“I just—” She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure why you’re doing this.”
He stepped closer, crowding her against the counter. “I like you.”
She cocked her head. “Yeah. And? Now I have two kids instead of only one.”
Tinker brushed a strand of hair over her shoulder. The tip of his nail grazed the side of her neck, and all she wanted to do was lean into it. To ask for more. But she had more to think about than just what she wanted.
“I fucked up. I’m sorry. I don’t have an excuse. I don’t get involved with women who have kids. It hasn’t been a great experience. The women want a father figure for the kid, and the kid gets attached. Everyone’s heart gets broken, but especially the kid’s. It’s not fair to the kid.”
“What makes this so different?” She understood what he was saying. It was one reason she’d been so anti-dating, especially since Will was still so young. She didn’t want Will to get attached to someone who would leave.
“You.”
“Me? That’s it?”
One corner of his mouth tilted up. “That’s all I got.” He brushed his thumb against her cheekbone and stepped back, putting some space between them. “For tonight, we’ll keep it simple. Tell them I’m a friend you invited over for dinner. You’ve had friends over for dinner before, right?”
Abby crossed her arms. “Yeah, but not friends who are men.”
“You don’t have any friends who are guys?” He went back to unloading to-go containers.
“Work friends, but not personal friends.”
“Why not?”
“Because inevitably being friends isn’t enough and they want to sleep with me, then get mad when they’re ‘friend zoned.’” She emphasized with air quotes. “So, I don’t bother.”
His grin grew. “I want to sleep with you. But I won’t pretend to be your friend to get in your bed. You’ll let me in when you’re ready.”
Her mouth worked to make words, but no sound came out.
“You should let the kids know dinner’s ready.” He swatted her on the butt and started opening cabinets. “Where do you keep your plates?”