18. Eli
Eli
“Well, Mr. Hargrove—”
“Please just call me Eli,” I interrupt.
“Sure. Eli, we need to get a court date in place to get in front of the judge. He will officially sign off to have you placed on Wren’s birth certificate as her father.
A home visit will also happen before that with child services.
We have your state-run lab DNA tests and the rapid and blood tests from the hospital as evidence of your paternity, so there should not be any contesting the facts,” says Grady Phillips, my lawyer.
“What about custody?” I ask nervously. “I want full custody.”
“Well,” Grady says, “since the mother placed Wren in the Safe Haven box with a note relinquishing her to you, saying she feels you are the best fit for your daughter, add to the fact that we have no idea where she went, there should not be an issue with you getting complete, full parental custody of Wren. Usually babies that are found in the Safe Haven boxes and other similar setups like them are placed in foster care. They try and see if they can find a relative to contact or they eventually get adopted. But even that takes a very long time. You have the advantage of being her biological father.”
“That’s good.” I nod.
“The first step is the home visit and then birth certificate, so let me get the ball rolling on that, okay?” Grady stands to shake my hand.
I stand and return the firm grip, a wave of relief rushing through me from the conversation we just had.
Coming in here I was terrified that he was going to tell me that we were going to have an uphill battle.
Bonnie said that wouldn’t happen, and I know that they work so hard on behalf of the kids and families they are on cases with, but I also feel unworthy of the title of fatherhood.
I also have a recurring nightmare that CPS is going to sweep in and take Wren away, place her in foster care, or deem me as an unfit father because I’m single and she was a one-night stand baby.
God, I am never going back to that again.
My stomach aches thinking about the consequences. Not because I don’t want Wren or love her, but that because of my recklessness I didn’t even know she existed. Might not have if her birth mother had made a different choice.
Now, I just want to rush back home and hug my baby girl. The one that I left sleeping in the arms of Kendra.
Kendra.
She shocked the hell out of me when she insisted I leave Wren with her.
I got out of the shower, dressed, and was fixing my tie when I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight in front of me.
Kendra was swaying back and forth in my living room, singing softly to Wren.
My daughter was nuzzled close to Kendra’s chest, eyes closed, tiny hand with a fistful of Kendra’s long, pink-kissed blonde hair, and completely content.
Kendra had just finished feeding Wren, and I really didn’t want to wake her up, put her in the car seat, and drive her to the meeting.
I was so grateful for the help, honestly.
On my way home from Grady’s office, I stopped at the Sugar Cube to pick up some treats and coffee for Kendra as a thank you.
I was surprised and pleased I was able to snag half a dozen of their signature sugar cookies because they normally sell out quickly.
I suppose luck was just on my side this morning.
My sister Sarah wasn’t even working today; she tries to save me at least one when she is there.
Walking in the back door I can hear Kendra’s sweet voice talking to Wren from deeper in the house.
Setting the surprise on the counter, I search out my girls—my girl—as fast as I can, finding them upstairs in what will eventually become the nursery.
It’s adjacent to the primary bedroom that has its own en suite bathroom, which I have obviously claimed.
Right now, Wren’s room is overrun with leftover remnants of what used to be a teenage boy’s room.
The Savellis didn’t do much to it once their only son left the nest.
“That feels so much better, doesn’t it?” Kendra asks Wren as I walk into the room.
“Hey, pretty ladies.” I beam at them, unable to help myself.
“Oh! Hi, how did it go?” Kendra asks as she refocuses on zipping Wren into a fresh pajama.
“Better than I thought it was going to,” I admit.
“What does that mean?”
“I had no idea what to expect. This isn’t exactly a normal circumstance.” I glance at Wren and rub my neck. “I was worried it would be more complicated, that they wouldn’t let me keep her.”
Kendra scoops Wren effortlessly into her arms, propping her up to her shoulder, keeping her little neck supported.
Fuck, why does that look so right?
“You are her father, DNA locked in her veins for the proof. Of course you get to keep her.” Kendra’s eyes look sad as she presses a soft kiss to Wren’s temple.
Her eyes go wide when she realized what she just did.
“Fuck! I mean frick. Oh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I know better. No kissing babies. Only the parents should be doing that. It was just . . . I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” She shakes her head, chastising herself.
I’m not used to seeing Kendra this flustered . . . ever.
“It’s fine, no harm done. You are one of the very few people I have let hold her at all, and I know you would never hurt her.” I try and soften my voice, no tease or jest so she knows I truly mean it.
Kendra just nods her head, rubbing slow circles on Wren’s little back, her eyes moving across the outdated room with some kind of sponge-painted, blue, feathered texture onto the walls.
“I can’t wait to make this room nice for her,” I say, desperate to change the subject and Kendra’s mood.
“It is a perfect room for a nursery. Wren’s a lucky little girl.” Kendra gifts me with the slightest upturn of a smile to her full lips.
“I’m gonna try and wrangle Rem into a mural. He did such a great job in Kinsley’s room. I want Wren to have something special too, but I have no idea what it should be.”
“That would be awesome,” she agrees.
We make our way downstairs and back into the kitchen. Wren starts to fuss, telling me that she is almost ready for another bottle.
“There’s a coffee and some Sugar Cube cookies on the counter for you.” I point to the offering.
“That wasn’t necessary but thank you. I will never say no to their cookies. And I need the coffee boost today to help me get things ready for the party.”
As she bites into a cookie I am distracted by the sugar crystals left on her lips and the way her pink tongue darts out to lick them up.
My dick jumps in my pants, reminding me that we know exactly what that mouth tastes like, what it feels like to have her wrapped around me, sucking me deep into her warm throat.
“Did you hear me?” Kendra’s question snaps me out of my treacherous memories that I normally try to avoid, but it’s becoming more and more difficult with her always around.
“Sorry, I didn’t. Distracted.” I clear my throat and press up against the kitchen island so Kendra can’t see my hard-on. “Thinking . . . about the meeting.”
“Hmm. What are the next steps?” Kendra sighs, as if she is upset at herself for even asking, allowing herself to be interested.
“I have to have CPS come here and do a home inspection, go to court and have a judge sign off to put me on her official birth certificate.”
“Well, hopefully that will be soon.” She sips the coffee, eyebrows lifting, bright eyes locking in on me with surprise.
“You remembered how I like my coffee?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure if you still took it the same, but I decided to make a gamble and just order it the way I used to. Guess it paid off.” I can’t help but give her a cocky smirk.
Her words about trying to remember as little as possible about me echo between us silently.
Wren snaps the tension with a pitiful cry. Hangry. Impatient.
“Okay! I’m on it, sorry.” I whirl through the process of making the bottle and ask, “What time does your party start tonight?”
“We are all meeting at Sutton’s at five thirty for appetizers, then taking a party bus to dinner and a couple different bars in Norfolk, then dancing.” Kendra lays out the plan, bouncing and trying to soothe Wren.
“Busy night. Want to come into the living room with your coffee and the rest of that while I feed her?” I ask, crossing my fingers she will say yes. I don’t want her to leave yet for some inexplicable reason.
“Uhhh”—she checks the time—“I guess so.”
I walk up to her, set the warm bottle down, and take Wren from Kendra. “Come here, my little jelly bean.” I smile down at her very cranky face, grab the bottle again, and pop it into her mouth. Immediately silence and greedy gulps fill the kitchen.
I start to walk to the family room with Wren but turn to see Kendra, stiff and frozen to the same spot.
“Coming?” I ask.
“W-what did you just call her?” She bobs her head toward Wren.
“Oh.” I laugh. “I’m just trying a few different nicknames out, seeing what feels right for her.
First I tried ‘little bird,’ ya know, because of her name.
Then baby girl, but both of those are too obvious.
” Kendra is just staring at me so I keep going, thinking I must sound like an idiot.
“A few others are cute. Little lady, ladybug. Nugget, but she’s too small for that one.
That makes me think of a chunky baby. I think peanut is the winner that is going to stick, but just now I tried jelly bean. ”
Kendra’s chest rises and falls quickly, like she can’t catch her breath. The lightness, the curious woman that was just about to follow me, has vanished.
“I’m sorry, I—I need to go. I, yeah, I have too much I need to get ready for the party. But thank you for the coffee, and the cookies.” She spins, rushes out the back door toward her house . . . leaving the unfinished coffee and cookies behind.
Somehow I just fucked up and upset Kendra all over again. But this time, I really have no idea what I did.