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“That’s perfect,” I say, guiding her hands to knead the dough and soften it before we roll it out. “Should we make heart-shaped pizzas?”
“We can do that?” She turns her head to look at me, surprised by the possibility.
“Yeah, we can,” I say, placing my hands over hers as she works the rolling pin back and forth, pausing when I need to shape the dough into hearts.
It takes over twenty minutes to get the dough just right and top our pizzas—I’m learning everything takes longer with a kid. When I pull dinner out of the oven, Rainey hops in excitement seeing her creation become dinner. I pull up a couple of animated movies on Netflix and let her choose our evening entertainment. She doesn’t last an hour into the movie before slumping against me.
I extract myself from the couch and place our dirty dishes in the sink. It’s far from done, but I’m forcing myself to spend a few minutes every night sorting through the mess I live in. Little by little, I’ve claimed minor victories. My dresser drawers house clean laundry. My doom stacks of paperwork are shrinking. And kitchen counter clutter is close to obliterated. Feeling satisfied with how far my home’s come, I carry Rainey upstairs to bed.
Chapter 8
Noah
Sleepdidn’tcomeeasily.I replayed the two-hour conversation with Logan and tried not to think about how good he looked when the sun shined on his tanned face. My mind wandered to the guardianship meeting and spiraled from there. Thoughts of losing Rainey plagued me. When I eventually fell asleep, a nightmare played out with me facing the guardianship tribunal, only to be ill-prepared and laughed out of the interview. It’s not the start to the day of my interview I was hoping for.
My presence in Rainey’s life revolves around my brother’s mood and sobriety, so our visits in the last few years have been few. Bringing her home overstimulated me beyond belief, and I’m still struggling to learn how to play ‘dolls’ with a first-grader. Caring for her is as innate to me as newly learning to tap dance, but she’s spent over a week safe and thriving in my home. This time with her has changed everything—I won’t accept a future where I’m in and out of her life again. These thoughts roll around in my mind before 6 a.m.
I’ll never fall back asleep with my nerves on high alert, so I retrieve my phone and sink back into bed, basking in the light streaming in through the windows. I Google ‘guardianship interview questions,’ and reading through the results, it strikes me I genuinely may not stand a chance. Who would give custody of a child to a single woman who works fifty hours a week and has no child-rearing experience? My thumb scrolls and my brain panics until I’ve spent an hour and a half counterproductively coming up with reasons my guardianship application will fail.
Today’s the last Monday before school starts, so I leave Rainey to sleep in while I chug my first cup of coffee. Halfway through my second cup, caffeine jitters blend with my tightly wound nerves to create a frightening medley. I’m deep breathing myself off the edge when I call Izabeth. She’s my calm and she’ll know what to say.
“Whoa! What’s going on?” Izabeth goes straight into problem-solving mode when she hears my ragged breathing.
“This guardianship interview’s going to be a disaster.”
“Why would you think that? It’s obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together you love Rainey to death.”
“It won’t matter—I looked up sample interview questions, and I’m screwed. I don’t know what I’m doing here, Iz.”
“You know Googling before something important is the worst idea ever, right?” She doesn’t let me reply. “Noah, what’s going on?”
“I just told you: I’m a nervous wreck. I won’t be able to answer the questions.”
“Nope. There’s something else. What is it you’re really afraid of?”
There’s a hush in the conversation as tears well in my eyes. I attempt to steady myself. “I’m—” The first tear runs down my cheek. “They’re going to see right through me. There’s no one less qualified to take care of a kid. I love Rainey, but who’s going to give guardianship to me? I work too much. Pizza and eggs are the only things I can cook. My house is a perpetual mess. I have no experience in taking care of a kid.”
A small sob escapes when I’m forced to acknowledge I’ve known I wanted to keep Rainey from the moment she climbed into my lap at the police station. I didn’t plan for how badly I want her to stay with me, and I can’t even articulate why it matters so much.
“You’ve got to calm down. You don’t want the folks at social services to see you like this, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“Let’s think this through. You’re worried the hours you work are too long?” Izabeth confirms.
“Yeah—what am I going to do with her when she’s out of school for the day, and I need to meet with clients? My boss is already pissed I took this time off. If I start missing meetings, I’ll be out of a job.”
“You’ll need a sitter or someone to help when you can’t be home.” There’s a hint of sarcasm when she says, “Damn, it’s a shame you don’t have a best friend who can work anywhere with Wi-Fi.”
“Iz, I can’t—“
“Just hush your face right now. I love you more than anything, and you might as well be my sister.” My best friend pushes back, leaving no room for me to shoot her down. “You love Rainey, and she’s important to you. That makes her important to me, too. Besides, from what you’ve told me, she could use more positive adult role models.”
She’s not wrong about that. Saltwater rises again from my tear ducts at her offer to help. “Are you sure? It’s a lot to ask.”
“I volunteered. What’s the point of a flexible job if you don’t take advantage of said flexibility? We’ve got that one figured out . . . What’s next?”
“I can’t cook.”
