“Emily,” Daniel tried as he and Chantelle joined her.
She felt his fingertips brush her hand but she pulled away, not wanting his touch at this moment in time.
Daniel didn’t try again. She heard him sigh. Then, silently, everyone piled back into the pickup truck.
The mood on the drive home couldn’t have been more different from the mood on the way there. It was almost as if the air was permeated with anxiety. Chantelle’s cute outfit suddenly seemed like a façade, like they’d dressed her up in order to trick Laura into viewing them like any other happy, uncomplicated family when they were in fact anything but. Their pasts – hers, Daniel’s, even Chantelle’s – complicated everything. And worse than that, their pasts complicated their very beings, their personalities, their abilities to deal with pressure and stress, their abilities to relate to one another.
For what felt like the hundredth time since he proposed, Emily wondered what was really going on inside Daniel’s head.
When Emily had first told Daniel about her desire to adopt Chantelle, they’d contacted their friend Richard Goldsmith, who was a custody attorney from town. An informal chat had taken place in the inn over coffee and cake. But this time, their meeting was taking place in his office in town. This time it felt serious and very real.
Emily nervously smoothed down her skirt as she and Daniel entered the plush office, which looked like something out of a story book, set in an old red brick building covered with climbing ivy. Emily couldn’t help her feelings of apprehension. What if Richard had bad news? What if she would never be able to become Chantelle’s real, legal mother like the little girl seemed to desire as much as Emily herself?
The receptionist, a young woman with fiery ginger hair, welcomed them with a sweet, reassuring smile.
“Mr. Goldsmith will be with you shortly,” she said, without them even needing to introduce themselves. “He’s just been held up with another client.”
Emily squirmed and chewed her lip. Client. It felt odd to think of herself in such a way. But that’s what she was, and what she must be to achieve her goal. Taking legal custody of Chantelle wasn’t just a matter of chatting with an acquaintance on her porch over coffee anymore. It would involve lawyers and courts, judges and legal documentation. This was real and she needed to get used to it.