Page 10 of Cut Off
That shuts me up, and I take a minute to catch my breath. I’m being an ass. “I’m sorry,” I say, “I expected him to come with me. I want to bring him to my house, to his home.”
Ms. Hernandez softens. “I’m sorry, too. I know this is difficult, but Eli is in the Social Services system, which means we have very strict guidelines and a process that must be followed. I’ll need your cooperation.”
“Okay,” I say. “I’m one hundred percent prepared to do whatever needs to be done.”
“As I was saying, you need to complete a case plan. Meanwhile, we can try to get you a hearing as soon as possible. Maybe even next week.”
“A hearing.” My heart plummets further.
“Yes.” She nods. “Right now, as the guardian designated by Ms. Anders in her will, you’ll need to sign these custody papers.” She taps them. “Then as soon as we leave here, we’ll schedule a home visit, a DNA test, and provide you with the case plan.”
“Okay.” I run a hand through my hair, panic flaring again. I tell myself that this is the process, and I have to follow it and not screw this up.
I could use the time. I mean, on the ride over here, I was flipping out because I don’t have anything set up.
As if reading my mind, Ms. Hernandez says, “You’ll have to start preparations tomorrow.”
Right, tomorrow. The day before I play the Blizzards.
And it’s not just the physical preparations. I’ll need to figure out:
How to be a father by the court hearing date, which is TBD.
How to comfort a grieving child who hates my guts.
How to explain to the Trout that I’m suddenly a single dad and might need to miss practice.
Coach Barrymore’s face flashes in my mind—and I almost laugh at how insignificant his threats seem now.
“Do you have any other questions, Mr. Holt?” Ms. Hernandez slides the custody papers toward me. “I’m going to email you the name of a family law attorney I advise you to get in contact with. And I’ll swing by in a few days to check on you and assess the situation.”
A thousand questions swirl in my mind, but none she can answer. How do I keep from fucking this up? How do I connect with a son who already resents me? How do I grieve for the woman I loved, then couldn’t stand, then became indifferent to, and now, can’t stand again?
“No.” I take the pen she offers. “No other questions. Other than that hearing date.”
“I’ll get on that as soon as this meeting’s over.”
“Thank you.” I sign where she indicates, officially in the fight to become responsible for another human being. When I look up, Stevens is ushering Eli back in the room. The kid steps inside, chocolate on his face, watching me, his expression unreadable.
“Ready to go?” Ms. Hernandez’s voice is gentle.
“Sure.” He shrugs, shifting his beat-up Flash backpack. It’s too heavy for him, making him list to one side, but when I reach to help, he jerks away.
My heart constricts in my chest. “Hey, Eli, you have to go into foster care here in Dickens, but I’m hoping to get custody of you as soon as I absolutely can.”
He scowls. “Maybe I don’t want to live with you.”
