Part of me wishes Gavin were here but he’s visiting his mom in rehab and I know he’s where he needs to be.
“I put together your two most appealing options and obviously you need time to read over this and think and discuss with your family.” She slides two typed documents over to me and I glance down at the jumble of legal-speak where most statements begin, “The guardian shall be permitted” . . . and so on.
Ashley seems to take note of my confusion. “If you need any of this clarified for you, just give me a call and I’ll do my best. If I can’t answer your questions directly, I’ll point you in the direction of someone at social services who can.”
I thank her for her help and take my documents home to read over them. Unable to wait, I read them in the driveway before going inside to where Gavin and Liam currently are having some type of epic battle on the Xbox.
Ashley was right.
I have exactly two choices.
Give Liam over to a more suitable guardian and go on the road with my band as planned.
Or find myself a career more suitable to motherhood, legally adopt Liam as my son, and fit both him and myself into a cookie-cutter life that the state deems fit.
Neither option feels right . . . or even possible.
“He’s asleep,” Robyn says sometime around midnight. “Denver and Liam are actually both crashed out in the spare room. I’m glad you decided to move into the bigger one so they could have that one.”
I nod. “Me, too.”
I glance around the kitchen table at my family, Robyn, Dallas, and Gavin, before launching into our discussion about Liam’s care. We decided mutually that it would be best to discuss it without him overhearing, as he’s had to deal with enough.
I describe both options, detailing the pros and cons as they were laid out to me in the documents, while passing them around for everyone to have a look. Once the papers have made their way around the table, Dallas looks directly into my eyes.
“I think it’s going to be a difficult situation either way, Dix. But what’s most important is what you want. Do you want a kid? Do you want to be solely responsible for this kid? And if you do, are you sure it’s for the right reasons?”
I start to stand up and tell my brother he has no idea what he’s talking about, but Robyn stops me with a firm hand on mine. “I think what your brother means to say is, we all want what’s best for you. We just want to make sure that you’re making the decision based on that.” When I don’t respond, she gives me a sad head tilt and sympathetic smile. “You can’t save everyone, Dixie. And you can’t save anyone if you’re not taking care of yourself. Trust me, I’ve been learning this since Denver was born. If all you do is give and give, you will eventually hit empty and crash.”
I know they all mean well, and that they all think I’m insane for wanting to adopt a troubled soon-to-be eight-year-old. But what they don’t see is how Liam, Gavin and I together are . . . just . . . right. Somehow we belong together, the three of us, the same way Dallas and Gavin and I used to. We belong to each other, and that much I know to be true. But it feels like that’s all I know and there are so many questions to be answered, questions I can barely comprehend in the legal documents.
I look to Gavin for his input, but he says nothing.
“A lot of these restrictions seem to be targeting single mothers. It would be easier if you were married . . . to someone without a criminal record,” Robyn adds absently while looking over the papers. “Sorry, Gavin.”
He cuts his eyes to her then meets my inquiring gaze.
“She’s right, you know,” he finally says. “As much as I hate to admit it, if you married someone like McKinley or some orchestra pit guy, you two could probably adopt Liam with the snap of a finger and live happily ever after.”