would be much easier to secure,” Richard contested, folding his hands on the desk. “If Sheila isn’t prepared to relinquish her rights over Chantelle, which from what you’ve told me of her thus far she would not want to do, we’ll have to prove that Chantelle would not just be better off with you but that Sheila is unfit to care for her, and that allowing her any kind of contact with her mother would cause her harm.”
“She’s told me time and time again she wants me to be her real mom,” Emily said. “That she never wants to see Sheila again.”
Daniel looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think it would be right to cut Sheila out entirely.”
Richard listened to them quietly. “This isn’t about visitation rights or anything like that. If you become Chantelle’s legal mother, it would be up to you whether she ever sees Sheila again. Unless you’re planning on taking out a restraining order on her. This is just about the legality, about who makes the decisions regarding her care.”
It felt too clinical. How could a child’s life and well-being be considered just a legality? This was her heart they were talking about. There was no way of separating out her emotions. It was impossible.
Emily touched Daniel’s hand lightly.
“It needs to be full adoption,” she explained. “Otherwise Sheila might take her away from us one day. Chantelle wakes up screaming in the night about that prospect. She’s asked me over and over again to protect her from Sheila. She’s asked if I can be her mom. I know she’s only seven but that girl knows her own mind.”
Daniel finally relented with a single, sad nod. Emily felt bad for him, but at the same time she was certain that this was the right thing to do for Chantelle’s sake.
“We’re going for adoption,” Daniel confirmed.
Richard nodded. “Each state has a different process,” he explained. “But here in Maine, we’d need to file a petition of relinquishment to Sheila. The courts would serve her with papers, then she’d be entitled to counseling, there’d be a mediation meeting in front of a family law magistrate with the aim of coming to a peaceful resolution. Finally, a court date would be set for a judge to make a decision. Of course, if Sheila gives consent, things will go more smoothly. If she fights the petition then things will take longer as there will need to be a summary hearing, a jeopardy hearing, a judicial review, and finally a permanency planning hearing.”
“What costs are involved?” Daniel asked.
“Some,” Richard explained. “But they’re not as hefty as you’d expect. We’re talking around two hundred dollars per meeting, so it will be less than a thousand dollars all in.”
One thousand dollars. That’s all it would take to make Chantelle their daughter. One thousand dollars, plus weeks and months of anguish.
“Daniel,” Richard then said somewhat solemnly, “I must make it clear that your prior conviction won’t do you any favors.”
“Prior conviction?” Emily stammered.
“I told you,” Daniel said in a hushed, embarrassed voice. “When I defended Sheila. From her ex-husband. You remember.”
“You went to court over that?” Emily said. She hadn’t realized it had been so serious. She’d assumed Daniel had just gotten a slap on the wrist by the local cops and sent on his way.
She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, reeling.
Richard coughed and carried on. He didn’t seem fazed. He’d probably seen it all in his office.
“What would really help for you, Daniel, is if you showed you were in paid employment.”
“He is,” Emily said. “He works for me.”
“He’s not on your payroll, though,” Richard explained. “Cash-in-hand work doesn’t look great. It needs to be consistent. A nine-to-five preferably.”
“Okay,” Daniel said, sounding resolved. “I’ll do that if it will help.”
Emily felt suddenly apprehensive. Daniel had always been available to her. Theirs was a fifty-fifty partnership. How would she cope with him out of the house all day? She’d be left to look after Chantelle alone. But the pressure for a full adoption was coming from her. If Daniel had his way, they’d take the less dramatic guardianship route. This was all her doing.
Richard folded up their file and returned his glasses to his nose. “Well, the next steps are for me to prepare the documentation, put the legal request forward to Sheila’s attorney. Then I’ll be in touch with more news. I must warn you, this will stir up bad blood in the short term. You ought to prepare for some drama.”
Daniel squeezed Emily’s arm for reassurance.
“We can handle it,” Emily told Richard. “For Chantelle, we can handle anything.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
With Richard Goldsmith’s words still ringing in their ears, Emily and Daniel returned to the inn, hoping for some quiet time to reflect on their situation. Instead, they found that the inn was buzzing with activity.
The several guests who had arrived over the weekend were being served food in the dining room by Matthew, the young chef Emily had taken on full time to help Parker out now they’d started serving lunches and evening meals. Colin, who was still occupying the carriage house and now took most of his meals in the inn, was amongst them, his handsome face attracting stares from the women that he seemed impervious to.
Colin had kept mostly to himself since Thanksgiving. He always disappeared off to the carriage house as soon as he’d finished eating to immerse himself once again in his work. His dashing good looks were the talk of the town (amongst the female residents at least), and his quiet brooding just added to the mystery. Emily knew that he’d recently separated from his wife and wondered whether he’d thrown himself into his work (whatever that may be) in an attempt to take his mind off his troubles. His head was always buried in his laptop. Either that or he’d be scribbling furiously into a notepad, just as he was doing now at his dining table in the corner. Emily was intrigued about what his job may be but of course didn’t want to be nosy and actually ask.
As Daniel and Emily walked through the corridor, Emily noticed a young woman in brightly patterned leggings standing at the empty reception desk waiting for service. Serena’s shift was over and it was Lois, the new girl who’d only been with them a week or so, who was supposed to be covering reception duties. But she was nowhere to be seen. Emily looked at the rusty bronze antique till she’d purchased from Rico’s sitting upon the heavy marble top. Theft wasn’t exactly high on her list of concerns in a place like Sunset Harbor but you could never be too careful.
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said to the waiting woman, rushing behind the desk in a hurry. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Tracey,” the short woman said, beaming brightly and swishing her mousy chin-length hair. “The new yoga teacher.”
“Oh!” Emily exclaimed, noticing for the first time the rolled up yoga mat beneath the woman’s arm.
It had totally slipped Emily’s mind that she’d arranged for yoga classes to be taught in the ballroom as a way of bringing in a tiny bit more income. She and Tracey had agreed on the telephone that twenty percent of the profits would go to the inn, but since Tracey’s classes were only $10 and only Karen
