40. Eli
Eli
“Ireally wish I could go with you for this,” Kendra says from where she is resting on the couch.
Wren is propped up next to her on a Boppy pillow, tiny finger gripping tightly to Kendra’s thumb.
This is one of the adaptations we have made for my girls to be close to each other while Kendra can’t hold Wren—it’s a shitty substitute, but better than nothing.
My personal favorite is when we all lay on Kendra’s bed; I put Wren in between us, and we play with her and talk for hours.
There is nothing shitty about that, it just feels right.
“We’ll be back soon, sweetheart. I promise. My lawyer said that this shouldn’t take too long. I’m so ready to just get it over with and have this not hanging over my head.” I nervously yank on my tie, unable to get a basic damn knot right because of my anxiety.
“Wren is the luckiest little girl,” Kendra says, peering down at her affectionately.
Bonnie said the same thing last month when she did her home study for the courts and CPS.
I was a nervous mess, but she reassured me it was just another formal hoop I had to jump through.
She was impressed with my tidy house, the space I had set up for Wren, all the family support I have in place, and the plans my mom and I worked out for when I go back to the fire station full time.
It didn’t make me sweat any less as she meticulously took notes the whole visit she was here and observed me with my daughter.
“Well, after today, when the judge makes it official that I’m on her birth certificate, I will be able to breathe easier.”
“I think we should have a celebration dinner tonight, what do you think?” Kendra asks, apprehensively nibbling her lip in a way that is so unlike her.
Normally she proclaims plans with our friend group and just starts making things happen.
But when it comes to me and Wren, Kendra proceeds with caution in all matters.
“That sounds great. I want nothing more than to commemorate today with my girls,” I say. Bending down, I kiss Kendra gently on the lips for the first time since the photo booth, leaving her totally dazed as I scoop Wren into my arms.
“Mr. Hargrove,” Judge Andrews addresses me, “your paperwork is all in order here. Home study has been done and approved, DNA results show beyond any doubt that you are indeed Wren’s biological father.” He slowly flips through the file in front of him.
Wren fusses in my arms and I adjust her, shushing her softly, kissing her temple.
“By signing the official birth certificate today, Mr. Hargrove, you not only wish to proclaim that you are her father, but to assume sole custody henceforth, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir. Her biological mother is not in the picture, and I am prepared to be Wren’s full-time caregiver with the support of my family and close friends.” I feel sweat slip down my back despite the chilly courtroom.
“You do have a detailed plan laid out here. And we have the letter submitted to be on record from her birth mother that was left with Wren in the Safe Haven box on July twenty-first . . . Being a single parent is difficult.” He gives me an assessing look.
“Your honor, if I may, I understand that. My mother was a single parent.” I nod to my mom and sisters sitting behind me in the courtroom, here to support me on this big day.
“And I know how hard it was for her. I want to give Wren what I didn’t have, and that is a loving father that shows up for her.
Now that she is in my life, I can’t imagine ever being away from her.
I promise, sir, I understand that this is the most important job I will ever have.
” I swallow hard and try to hold back the tears I feel pooling in my eyes.
My lawyer, Grady Phillips, pats me on the shoulder in support and nods his head.
“Mr. Hargrove, I wish all parents that walked into my courtroom and stood there expressed at least half as much compassion and commitment to their children as I see you have for Wren. I read in your file that you had no idea that the birth mother was even pregnant? So you have completely flipped your life around from the moment you found out about your daughter?”
“That’s correct, sir,” I say, kissing the top of Wren’s head again, and she nuzzles into me and grabs on to my tie.
“Well then, congratulations, Mr. Hargrove. I am placing you on the birth certificate, approving the name you chose for your daughter when she was born, and granting you sole custody of Wren Elizabeth Hargrove. Should the birth mother, Skylar Marks, come back into the picture she will have to go through the courts to petition for visitation rights and so forth.” Judge Andrews smiles at me from his place at the front of the courtroom, granting me all my dreams like a goddamn magical wizard, robes and all.
“Thank you so much.” I grin, this time not stopping the tear as it rolls down my face.