Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Mr. Elwood,” the voice on the line said. “Let me express my most sincere condolences—”
“This is Neil’s wife,” I interrupted. I didn’t want to hear anybody’s condolences, even if they hadn’t been intended for me.
“I’m sorry. My deepest condolences to you, as well.” He paused. “Is Mr. Elwood available?”
“Not at the moment.” Because he had been replaced by the avatar of Okay-Neil. And when actual Neil came back, he wasn’t going to be able to take a phone call. He would be screaming and wrecking up the place, again. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, this concerns you, as well…” The lawyer’s voice trailed off, as though he were reading something. “There is a social worker from the State of New York who will be contacting you within the hour regarding Olivia Van der Graf…”
“Social worker?” My heart shuddered to a stop. Social worker meant DHS, right? Investigations of abuse or neglect? Something like that?
Oh, god, they weren’t going to put Olivia in foster care, were they? They couldn’t do that when there were family members who could take care of her. Neil would burn down the entire city.
“Yes, it seems that in their will, Mr. Van der Graf and Mrs. Elwood-Van der Graf appointed you and your husband as legal guardians.”
I developed sudden tinnitus. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you and Mr. Elwood will be responsible for the child, in a legal capacity, as though you were her parents.” He paused. “Were you aware that you had been named as guardians in their will?”
“I didn’t know they had a will.” Maybe I had known that. It seemed like I’d heard Neil badgering them both about it, at one point. “Just us? Not Valerie Stern, or Michael’s parents?”
“Just Neil Elwood and his wife, Sophie Scaife.”
In the bathroom, the shower started.
“Okay. You have my cell number, right?” I asked, chewing my lip and casting nervous glances toward the bathroom as though I were smuggling drugs through an airport. The lawyer repeated the number back to me, and I said, “I need you to please call that number about any of this. Give it to the social worker, too. I’ll deal with all of this, because Neil is…”
“I understand,” the lawyer assured me.
We hung up, and I checked the time. He’d said the social worker would be contacting us within the hour.
I had to talk to Neil, now.
I grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of panties as I walked through the closet and pulled them on when I stepped through the bathroom door. Steam fogged the edges of the glass, but I could still see Neil standing under the spray, his forehead against the wall. When I said his name, he raised his head and cleared his throat, donning the mantle of Okay-Neil in an instant.
“Now is…not a good time, Sophie. I want to be alone.”
“I know. And, under normal circumstances, I promise, I would leave you alone, right now.” I took a breath. “The lawyer called, and…a social worker will be coming by this morning. With Olivia.”
Neil tipped his head back, looking to the ceiling, but he said nothing.
“We were named in the will,” I went on. “Just us. I guess we’re her guardians, now?”
He cleared his throat. “Right. Well, that makes it much simpler, doesn’t it? No fight.”
“The person is going to call me within the hour. I don’t know if she’ll bring the baby stuff—”
“We’ll figure all of that out,” Neil interrupted. “If you’ll excuse me?”
“Yeah, sure.” I backed out of the room and closed the door behind me. I waited a beat. Even over the sound of the running water, I heard his sobs.
I leaned my forehead against the door. I hated this. We’d been on this merry-go-round before. Shut down, shut out. It was how he dealt with everything. Then, I had to somehow claw my way back in.
How did I do that, when this pain was so immense and so private?
I heard my phone’s generic ringtone from the other room, and I ran to it, my hands shaking. Something in me panicked, like Olivia would be taken from us if we missed that first phone call.
“Hello?” I gasped.
“Ms. Scaife?” the voice on the other end asked.
“Yeah?”
“This is Amanda Thomas.I’m a social worker for King’s county. I’m calling regarding the placement of Olivia Van der Graf.”
“Right, we’re, um… My husband and I—” Stop. Calm down. Get your shit together. “Obviously, this is a very difficult time for my husband. Olivia is his granddaughter.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” the woman cut in. “Which is why I’d like to make sure this goes as smoothly as possible for everyone. I understand that the child is at home at present?”
“Yes. With the au pair.” I bit my thumbnail. Should we have gone over and picked her up last night, after all? What were we thinking? “Can she just bring her?”