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Rainey glances at the digital clock on the microwave and smirks. “We already ate breakfast. It’s lunchtime.”
I have nothing to make for lunch.
“How ’bout we grab some lunch out and then visit the grocery store?”
“Yeah,” she agrees before realizing her error and adding, “but only if you’ll buy me some ice cream.” She’s fully awake now and a glint of trickery escapes her baby blues.
During the rare time we’ve shared, it took her no time to sweeten me up and con me into whatever she wanted. A toy was almost always involved. Even with all the moments Dunbar robbed us of together, she still has a playfulness with me. The thought urges a smile to creep across my lips.
“Hmmm . . .” I stall. I’ve never done the ‘parenting’ thing before. Hell, it’s a miracle any of my houseplants are still alive. Is it okay to keep junk food in the house? I flush the flood of questions from my brain as fast as they enter. The sorrow I feel for all Rainey’s seen and endured in her life means the kid claims victory this round.
“You got it.”
Rainey shimmies across the kitchen floor, reveling in her win, as I drain my double-espresso shots into a mug the size of my face, following them with hot water. As the liquid gold coats my throat, a low moan slips out. To Hell with whatever Benjamin Franklin said about beer, Americanos are proof God loves us and wants us to be happy.
I get the two of us ready to leave, but quickly remember I have no clean clothes for her. Georgia sent us home with nothing extra–only what Rainey was wearing at the police station. One more thing to add to our shopping list. We’ll hit up Alexandria’s Walmart since it’s the only place to buy clothes in town.
“Let’s eat, get groceries, and we’ll buy you some new clothes?” I tease the idea to Rainey, wobbling my eyebrows up and soliciting a giggle.
“And toys?” She wishes out loud with wide eyes.
“A few toys. Come on, let’s get your hair and teeth brushed.”
I grab a hairbrush from the chaos on the counter in my oversize ensuite bathroom. The closed toilet lid acting as a seat, I shrink to my niece’s height and maneuver her in front of me. I gently work through her blonde, matted hair, beginning at the ends and teasing the knots out. Her hair, a tangle of waves, curls, and spirals, is dirty.
Does she need special products, or can I use the shampoo already in my shower? Stealing a peek at my straight hair in the vanity mirror forces me to admit I don’t have the first clue about how to care for Rainey’s textured hair. But, twenty minutes later, her untangled hair is clean and pulled back into a tight ponytail, and her tiny teeth sparkle. Her clothes aren’t clean, but we’ll take care of that after we shop.
I never called Georgia. Theoh shitrealization smacks me in the face as I’m brushing my hair. I said I’d call when we woke up, and it’s now early afternoon. Plunking my niece in front of a TV to distract her feels wrong, but I flip on a kid show and slip back upstairs. Scrolling through my phone contacts, I find the number I need. Georgia’s number earns a place in my starred contacts list, ensuring no matter the time of day, I never miss a call from her.
As the phone rings, I sit on the edge of my unmade bed. My abdominal muscles clench with queasiness thanks to the rave my nerves are hosting in my stomach.
“Hey Noah,” Georgia’s voice drips through the line.
“Sorry for the late call. We slept in.”
She skips past all decorum and spells out what the next few months will look like if I want to pursue a temporary guardianship. Georgia explains the mounds of paperwork, interviews, and rules, pushing my mind off the deep end. I’ll do it all to protect Rainey.
“The first step’s filling out the application to petition for guardianship. Get it back to me by Wednesday. Once it’s processed, we’ll call you and set up your interview.” She explains she can’t conduct the interview for my guardianship petition because she’s worked too many of Rainey and Dunbar’s previous cases. “Other caseworkers will meet with you.”
“What happens to Rainey in the meantime?”
“It’s Saturday, and my office is closed, but I always have extra paperwork with me. I’ll drop it at your place later today. Rainey can continue staying with you until you’re through the guardianship process. If it goes as planned, she won’t need to move again while her dad’s in jail.”
“And if it doesn’t?” I swallow hard and slam my eyes shut.
“If it doesn’t, we’ll move Rainey back into foster care until Dunbar finishes serving his time.”
The words ‘foster care’ tighten my resolve to do what it takes to be named Rainey’s temporary guardian. My lack of maternal instinct be damned. I can’t allow her to be thrown back into the system. I’ll figure this out.
“I appreciate you dropping the paperwork off. We’re getting ready to leave for lunch and go to the store.”
“If you need anything, even if it’s questions you have while completing the paperwork, call me.” Promising I will, I sneak in a request for an update on my brother. Georgia doesn’t have any news to share, except he’ll go before the judge early next week to make a plea.
It’s up for debate if my brain’s swimming or drowning. Whichever it is, my growling stomach demands attention, and I round Rainey up for lunch. Restaurant options are sparse in Alexandria. There are a couple of unremarkable chain places. Joe’s serves breakfast any time of day, but Stewie’s Diner serves the best BLT sandwich I’ve ever eaten. Rainey struck down having a second breakfast, leaving us with Stewie’s.
Chapter 4
Logan
