we should take your card for the time being,” Emily said to Laura. “Rearrange when we know a few more details.” She stood abruptly.
“Oh, oh, okay,” Laura said, taken aback, dropping her binder in her haste to stand and shake Emily’s hand.
Emily did so quickly. Then she rushed out of the venue, leaving Daniel behind to shake Laura’s hand just as swiftly. She burst out of the doors and onto the steps, listening to the sound of Daniel’s distant voice explaining to Laura that they’d be in touch.
Out in the cold, Emily held back her tears. She was shaken to the core. Not just from their lack of plans, or from Daniel’s general quietness over the last few days, but from the micro-expressions he was making and what she inferred from them. Did Daniel actually want to marry her or was the proposal some impulsive moment he’d gotten swept up in? Was the reality of choosing a date in the not too distant future giving him cold feet? What if he took the cowardly approach of pushing the wedding back a few years, leaving her in a state of limbo, dragging out the engagement for as long as possible just as Jayne had warned?
“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.
CHAPTER SIX
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.
Emily steeled herself. She could handle this. She had to; she loved Chantelle too much to fail, to wilt under the pressure. But there was another part of Emily that was still reeling from Saturday’s failed trip to the wedding venue and the way Daniel had clammed up at the mere suggestion of selecting a season during which they would be wed. If he was changing his mind about this, he needed to be brave and tell her before things got serious, before contracts were signed and hearts were too much on the line to turn back. The words of her family and friends still repeated in Emily’s mind, that Daniel was using her because he wanted someone to raise Chantelle for him, that Emily had made it too easy on him. She’d let him live rent free on the grounds of her property, she’d taken his child in without question, and had forgiven him so quickly for those long six weeks during which he’d prioritized his child over her. But what they didn’t accept or understand was how all those things made her love him more: his resourcefulness and resilience during the years he’d lived in the carriage house, the care he’d shown the property during the decades it had stood empty, keeping it on life support in case Roy Mitchell returned, and the fact he’d stepped up for Chantelle without question, proving himself to be a real man, the sort that didn’t shirk his responsibilities, that put his child’s needs over his own.
The door to Richard’s office suddenly swung open, making Emily jump out of the thoughts she’d been absorbed in. Richard stood in the doorway as he shook hands with a petite, blond woman sniffling into a tissue. She reminded Emily instantly of Sheila. A wave of guilt crashed over her.
Emily couldn’t hear Richard’s hushed words but she picked up on his reassuring tone. Then he bid goodbye to the woman and she shuffled past them, heading out the door in a flurry.
Once she was gone, Richard turned to Emily and Daniel. “Please, come in.”
“Is she okay?” Emily asked as they followed him into his office.
She was concerned for the woman he’d just shown out, but also curious about the reason for her tears. Perhaps she was about to enter a court battle like them, only she was on the flip side of the coin, the side where she was having her legal guardianship revoked. Was it fair? Had she done anything to deserve it, drugs, abandonment? Did anyone ever deserve it?
But then she remembered Chantelle. No, it wasn’t fair. But this wasn’t about what was fair, it was about what was right.
“I’m afraid I can’t discuss that,” Richard said, putting an end to Emily’s wild flight of fantasy. He settled into his large leather chair and adjusted the pant legs of his crisp gray suit. “I have to show the same level of confidentiality to all my clients. I’m sure you understand.”
Emily’s unease abruptly returned on hearing that word again. Client. It reminded her how serious this was. They were paying for this meeting, for Richard’s expertise and his time. Everything had become suddenly very formal. Emily wondered whether she should have worn a suit.
Daniel seemed just as uncomfortable beside her. She could tell by the way he kept fidgeting and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. They were both very much out of their comfort zone in Richard’s plush office.
Richard removed his glasses and looked up from their file. “So there are two options to consider here. It partly comes down to semantics, but there are some crucial differences between the two courses of action we can take.”
“Which are…?” Emily prompted.
“Guardianship or adoption,” Richard concluded. “Guardianship, in its basic form, would simply establish a legal relationship between Chantelle and Emily but it wouldn’t end Sheila’s legal relationship with her child. On the other hand, with adoption, all of Sheila’s rights and obligations over Chantelle would cease and Emily would henceforth be considered her mother. In other words, she would be a substitute for Sheila in every legal sense. Adoption is intended to create a permanent and stable home, so we would need Sheila to relinquish her rights over Chantelle, and to understand that this would be irrevocable.”
Emily nodded, letting his words seep in. She thought of Chantelle in her room asking her to promise Sheila
