Sheila nods. “Our other option is to place Liam in protective custody tonight and he can go to a temporary guardian until—”
“Can I be a temporary guardian?” Dixie interrupts. “Could he stay with me?”
I don’t know why this surprises me, but Dixie never fails to do what I least expect.
Sheila explains about the necessary paperwork and background check and Dixie demands to have it all right now so she can apply. Sheila gives her a Web address and Dixie lowers herself into a nearby kitchen chair and is online before I can say my own name three times fast.
I suddenly remember Sheila said she had two things to tell us. “What’s the second thing?”
“Liam needs to go back to Mrs. Lawson’s as soon as possible. If Carl were to find out he was here, with you here”—she pauses to gesture at me—“it’s likely he’d be more apt to demand his son back immediately.”
I hadn’t thought about that. Once again, I am the wrench fucking up the works.
“He has to go now?” Dixie looks so disappointed that I want to leave so that Liam can stay. But I don’t want her here alone in case Carl does show up.
“I’m sorry,” Sheila says with genuine regret in her tone. “I can see that you two are obviously getting quite attached to him and I’m glad he has you and that you called me. But these types of cases don’t get settled overnight. There will be the issue of CPS assigning a temporary guardianship and then a permanent situation will have to get approved by a judge, and honestly, if Carl gets help and can convince social services he’s cleaning up his act, there will always be a chance he can get his son back.”
“Carl Andrews will not clean up his act. Not for social services and not for that little boy. I know his type,” I practically growl.
Dixie places her elbows on the table and her head in her hands.
Sheila pats her gently on the shoulder. “Regardless, I need to get to work so I can get this report submitted. I’ll walk Liam over to Mrs. Lawson’s and chat with her as well. Call me if Carl shows up or you have any questions.”
I nod and Sheila goes into the living room. I half-expect Dixie to break down and cry at the bleak news, but instead, she stands, eyes bright and heated.
I watch as she walks purposefully into the living room and leans down to Liam’s level.
“Thank you for camping in with us,” she says, smiling widely even though I know what’s behind the happy mask she’s wearing.
“Thanks for brinner,” Liam says quietly. “I liked it.”
Barely restrained pain ripples across Dixie’s features but she manages. “I’m glad. I’ll be right over here if you need anything. And I’ll come by and check on you before bedtime. Maybe we can play Mrs. Lawson’s piano for a bit?”
Liam’s expression darkens. “I’m not good at it.”
“That’s why we practice, silly. But we don’t have to unless you want to. I thought maybe we’d work on the song from the movie last night. Would that be okay?”
He nods. “Guess so.”
I step over and give him a light fist bump, which he returns more enthusiastically than I would’ve expected. “Later, man,” I tell him. “Thanks for the help with the s’mores.”
We say our goodbyes and Sheila leads him out the door. Once they’re gone, Dixie curls up on her couch, using my bedding from the previous night. She hugs the pillow tightly to her chest and I stand above her feeling unsure. This isn’t something I can fix for her. Not really. Even as much as I wish I could. But there is a glint in her eye and a determined set to her chin and I know that she has made up her mind to handle this herself.
“I’ve got some stuff I need to deal with today but I can stay if you need—”