“No, it’s just our hometown. It doesn’t have to be our home, forever and ever.” Anthony frowned, his desperation plain. “This is an opportunity I can’t bring myself to turn down. I could have stayed the weekend but I came home to explain this all to you, to see how you felt, to try to work it out. I know it’s a new idea, but if you come out with me this week, you can look around. UCLA sells itself. The sun, the beach, it’s just a wonderful way to live, a healthy, clean, relaxed way to live—”
“I’m healthy and clean,” Mary heard herself saying, bewildered. She felt vaguely disapproved of, by the man she loved most in the world. And then there was Patrick. “You know what my news is? A case came up this week, involving a ten-year-old boy. His grandfather died, and he has nobody else in the world. And I was going to ask you if we could have him come to live with us, only temporarily, because I’m going into court to become his guardian.”
Anthony’s eyes flared in shock. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” Mary realized this was her chance to pitch her case. “He’s a wonderful little boy and I can’t turn my back on him. I just can’t bring myself to. I thought if I explained it to you, you would understand why we need to take him in. As I say, temporarily.”
“How long are you talking about? A week, two weeks?”
“No, because we have to get him through a really tough time—”
“How long?”
“Like six months to a year? I just want to get him over the hump.”
“Are you kidding? A year?” Anthony recoiled, aghast. His hand slipped from Mary’s. “Why us?”
“His parents are dead and now his grandfather’s dead.”
“He must have somebody, some cousins to take him. Have you looked?”
“Even if there was some remote cousin or something, Patrick doesn’t know him.”
“Patrick?” Anthony edged away, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Patrick O’Brien. That’s his name—”
“I don’t want to know his name. I’m not responsible for him. You can’t be responsible for him. You’re not. How did you even get involved?”
“It was a special education case, and when the grandfather died, it turned into something else. I tried to call you, to tell you, but I couldn’t reach you.”
“Look, to tell you the truth, I was ducking your calls—”
“What?” Mary said, shocked.
“I knew I had to tell you about the job offer but I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. I wanted to tell you in person. I’m sorry, but”—Anthony stopped speaking abruptly, then started again—“you can’t be seriously considering this. I don’t want a ten-year-old boy, not now. We’re getting married. I want to move to California.”
“I don’t want to move to California.”
“And I don’t want a child right now, and not this way.” Anthony looked at Mary like she was completely crazy. “And babe, if you think this is going to be temporary, even a year, you’re not being realistic. You’re kicking the can down the road. You’re not going to take a kid into our house, live with him for a year, and then give him up. That’s so not you.”
“I’m going to make myself do it. I’m going to do it.”
“No, you’re not going to be able to. You don’t do anything temporarily. You’re going to fall in love with him and you’re gonna fall hard.” Anthony frowned. “And we’re going to end up with Patrick as our child, our son, forever. You’re asking me to change my whole life.”
“You’re asking me to change my whole life, by moving away.”
“No, I’m not,” Anthony shot back. “Moving isn’t the same thing as taking on a child. You’re talking about something that affects us as a couple, as a family.”
“You’re talking about me leaving my parents. They’re my family. How much longer do you think they have?” Mary didn’t even want to think about her parents’ passing.
“But now that we’re getting married, we’re the family.”
“Our getting married doesn’t mean we leave our families behind. That wasn’t the deal. In fact, it was exactly the opposite.” Mary couldn’t believe she had to explain this to him. They were supposed to be from the same neighborhood, literally and figuratively. “Part of the reason we get along so well is that you love my family as much as I do. We fit together, all of us, even your mom.”
“So take your family with us, I’d love it!” Anthony threw up his hands. “My mom would move to California if I asked her to. So would my brother.”
“Well, mine wouldn’t!” Mary shot back. “And I wouldn’t ask them to. My parents are older than your mom, and my father’s friends are here. They live here and they need me here. My mom doesn’t feel that great from time to time, since her hysterectomy. And my father’s knees act up. Now is when they need me the most.”
“What about what I need? Where do I stand? Behind your parents? Behind Judy and The Tonys? Behind Patrick, whoever he is?” Anthony’s lips parted, and his eyebrows slanted down, and he looked to Mary as if he was positively heartbroken, which was exactly how she felt. She hadn’t really thought about it until this very moment, but she realized her parents did need her. The tables had turned in her life, and now she took care of the parents who used to take care of her. She flashed on Patrick, crying that Edward needed him. It struck her suddenly that the pull of being needed was just as strong as the pull of needing.
“Anthony, I love you, more than anybody. But I don’t want to move away from my family and I want to take Patrick.”
“Mary, I love you, more than anybody. But I want to move and I don’t want to take Patrick.”
Mary felt his words like a body blow. “So what do we do now?”
Anthony shook his head, sadly. “I don’t know, but I’m leaving early tomorrow to go back to LA. The interviews are this week. I’ll be back when I can, maybe Tuesday night.”
Mary inhaled slowly, her wine souring on her tongue. “And by then I’ll know if I’m Patrick’s guardian.”
“So we’re at impasse.”
“I guess so.” Mary shrugged, crestfallen. She knew she was doing the right thing for Patrick, but maybe it was wrong for Anthony. She wondered if she had volunteered herself too fast, taking responsibility for a problem that wasn’t hers.
“We’ll have to figure this out, later.”
“Will you at least think it over?”
“Yes, if you will.” Anthony pursed his lips. “Unless the problem solves itself.”
“How would it?”
“If they don’t offer me the job.” Anthony forced a smile.
“I guess I could always lose the hearing.” Mary couldn’t manage even a sarcastic smile. Too much was at stake. She didn’t see how she won, either way. If she got Patrick, she could lose Anthony. She was supposed to be getting married in less than two weeks, now. Her next thought was unthinkable.
“So now we can wish the worst for each other.”
“I don’t wish the worst for you. Do you wish it for me?”
Anthony looked away, leaning on the island, his dark-eyed gaze focusing on a shaft of sunlight fading on the black granite. He didn’t say anything, and Mary couldn’t take the silence.
“Well?” she asked, her chest tight.
“I think the fish is burning,” Anthony said, turning away.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“You can’t go to California!” Judy wailed, sitting across from Mary’s desk, dressed in her Sunday shorts and T-shirt, which was a lot like her Saturday shorts and T-shirt. Mary took another bite of her bagel, feeling like she was having a déjà vu of yesterday morning, except that most mornings at Rosato & DiNunzio started with her, Judy, and carbohydrates.
“I’m not going to California,” Mary said, grateful that Judy had taken the time on Sunday morning to come in and talk it over.
“What did he say this morning before he left?”
“He left before I was up. I can’t believe his flight was that early. I think he wait
ed at the airport.”
“Oh no.” Judy grimaced. “Was it the gun that bothered him?”
“I didn’t even get to tell him about that, it just went straight downhill. It makes me wonder if I’m doing the right thing with Patrick. When Anthony wasn’t here, it was easy to put Patrick first, but last night when he came home, I could see how hurt he was and how much it meant to him.”
“I get it. It made it real?”
“Exactly,” Mary said, feeling validated, which was what best friends were for. “But on the other hand, I can’t forget Patrick. I was thinking all morning, is there any way to compromise with Anthony? What if I take Patrick to California? Or what if Anthony takes the job for a year, and I take Patrick for a year? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you get married, compromise?”
“I’m the last one to ask. I’m not only single, I’m in the dry spell of a lifetime. I think my hymen fused back together.”
Mary smiled. “That can’t happen.”
“It happens with pierced ears. The holes close up.”
“Anyway, it’s a big thing to compromise over, not helping Patrick, and Anthony doesn’t think it would be temporary.”
Judy eyed her, knowingly. “I have to admit, Anthony might be right about that. I worried about it, too. You’ll get attached to Patrick. You get attached to parking meters, pencils, anything. You even like my dog better than I do.”
Mary took a gulp of her coffee. “So what should I do? I have to decide. We’re going forward.”
Judy shot her a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. You always do. It sounds corny, but just keep following your heart. Think about what you really want.”
“I want everything. I want to help Patrick and I want to get married to Anthony and live in Philadelphia.”
“Then you’ll figure out a way to make that happen.” Judy met her gaze directly. “I’ll help you any way I can, you know that. And I’ll love you no matter what you do, except if you move to California.”
Mary turned to the door as Lou Jacobs, their firm investigator, appeared in the doorway. She’d asked him to come in to follow up on the brown Subaru and to satisfy Anthony’s request that Patrick had no other family. Lou was a retired cop in his late sixties, his craggy face deeply sunburned after a summer spent crabbing in South Jersey. He was still trim, with piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a strong nose with a tiny scar.
“Ladies, the cavalry is here.” Lou flashed her a smile, stepped inside, and sat down next to Judy. “So our girl needs us again, eh?”
Judy smiled back. “Where would she be without us?”
“Up shit creek without a paddle.”
Mary knew he was kidding. She and Lou had worked together since forever, and all of the lawyers at the firm loved him. She handed him a bag with breakfast. “Lou, I got you a bagel.”
“Thanks, Mare.”
“I told you about the case on the phone. I want to confirm that it was Robertson in the brown Subaru so if you could—”
“I don’t want to talk about the case, I want to talk about your life.” Lou unwrapped the bagel. “You’re trying to become this kid’s guardian? Do you know what you’re getting into?”
“Yes.” Mary didn’t mind Lou asking, since everyone at the firm routinely invaded each other’s privacy.
“Mare, I know your heart’s in the right place but you can’t rescue everybody.”
“I know that,” Mary said, defensively. “I’m just going to rescue this one kid.”
“It’s a big deal, having a kid.”
“It’s not forever, it’s just for a year.”
“Tell me another one. I know you, and that ain’t happening.” Lou parted the halves of his bagel, with approval. “This sandwich is a thing of beauty, is it not? Poppy seed, untoasted. Just the right amount of Nova, sliced thin. Plain cream cheese, not too much. Tomato sliced perfect. No onion. Just like I like. Thank you, Mary.” Lou looked over at Judy. “You could take a lesson, you know. Mary always feeds me. With you, I’m lucky if I get a cuppa coffee. Now you know why I shave for Mary. For you, I don’t shave.”
Mary was running out of time. “Lou, what was your point about kids?”
“Mare, I got kids, so I know. I’m a kid expert. It changes your life, having a kid.”
“This is your advice?”
“Don’t make light. It’s a true fact. Let it sink in. Think about it. You like your life? It’s gonna change. You might not like it so much. That’s what kids do.” Lou took a massive bite of his bagel. “What does Anthony say?”
Mary hesitated. “I’m hoping he’ll get on board.”
Judy started laughing. “I’m hoping I’ll meet Bradley Cooper.”
Lou glanced at Judy, his cheek full. “Good one.”
“Thank you.”
Lou returned his attention to Mary. “So Anthony doesn’t want the kid. I coulda told you that. You’re gonna go ahead anyway? Is that any way to start marriage? Answer, no. I’m a marriage expert, too. I’m divorced twice.”
“Before you side with Anthony, you should know that he wants me to move to California.”
“No!” Lou’s hooded eyes flared wide open. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re not allowed. Screw him!”
Mary smiled. “Lou, I forgot to mention, about the brown Subaru, please stay away from Grove Street. After what happened with Robertson, we have to give him a wide berth.”
“I know, and I’ll keep digging.”
Just then John appeared in the threshold with an attractive woman, presumably Abby Ortega, the Child Advocate with whom they were supposed to meet. John said, “Good morning, Mary. This is Abby.”
“Hi, John.” Mary rose. “Abby, thanks for helping us.”
“Hi, Mary. Nice to meet you.” Abby smiled back warmly, and Mary liked her instantly. Abby had a big, friendly smile and a sweet, round face framed by glossy black hair cut in feathery layers. She had dark eyes, almond-shaped, with a tiny nose and a small mouth, and she was wearing a blue shirtdress hoisted up on one side by a heavy leather purse, messenger bag, and a cloth tote bag that rested on her shoulder.
“Good morning, everyone.” John nodded at Judy and Lou, acknowledging them. He had on a blue-and-white checked shirt, jeans, and Gucci loafers.
Lou’s mouth was too full to respond, so he nodded.
“Hi, guys.” Judy smiled up at John. “Thanks for helping Mary. It’s really nice of you.”
“I’m happy to.” John turned to Mary. “Good to go?”
“Sure,” Mary answered, noticing a newly worrisome crease on John’s forehead.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Mary settled into a chair next to Abby, and John took a seat at his desk, behind his laptop.
“So Abby,” Mary began, “did you get to see Patrick?”
“Yes, he’s a good kid, and it’s so great that you’re taking him.” Abby’s smile evaporated. “But I have bad news. The truth is, he’s not doing well. DHS intends to move him into residential care for hard-to-place kids, if you don’t win at the hearing.”
“Why?” Mary asked, shocked. “What happened?”
John glanced over the top of his laptop, where he’d begun to tap out meeting notes, and Mary realized he already knew the bad news.
Abby continued, “Mary, I know you’re not that familiar with the foster care system, so let me begin by putting Patrick’s case in context. He comes from a very loving home where he was valued and taken good care of. That makes him highly unusual. The overwhelming majority of foster children enter the system from very challenging circumstances, physical or sexual abuse, neglect, of parents or single parents with drug and alcohol problems, things like that.”
“Yes, but remember, Patrick was assaulted at school.”
“I know, I don’t mean to minimize that. But even as horrible as that was, the cases I see are worse. Of course, you understand that foster kids aren’t ‘bad kids.’” Abby made air quotes. “But children in fos
ter care may have anger issues, poor impulse control, acting out, even violence.”
John looked over. “Abby, you do know that Patrick brandished a gun at Mary and Olivia Solo, the caseworker from DHS.”
Mary recoiled. “He didn’t brandish it.”
“I’m playing devil’s advocate, Mary. You should want to hear what Abby says. You’re taking Patrick into your home.”
“I’m not worried,” Mary said gently.
“Guys.” Abby signaled for a referee’s time-out. “You told me about the gun and the fact is, they didn’t place Patrick in the foster home they were going to, because of it. They were concerned about the safety of the other foster children.”
“So where is he?” Mary asked, surprised.
“Einstein Crisis Response Center. That’s where DHS takes a child if they’re concerned about his mental or emotional health, even physical health.”
“The poor kid.” Mary felt for him. “That was an overreaction.”
“I agree, but DHS is taking no chances since the Kelly case. You probably read about the Kelly case, a fourteen-year-old with cerebral palsy who died of malnutrition in the home of a neglectful mother. Nine people, including a DHS caseworker, went to prison after that, and DHS reformed to make child safety paramount.”
Mary remembered the Kelly case, which was all over the newspapers.
“DHS is in transition as we speak, and their reforms have resulted in more children being taken out of their homes, which burdens the foster care system. DHS is a fifteen-hundred-person agency that serves twelve thousand children. There are about six thousand children in Philly who live in foster care, group homes, or kinship care, which is what you want to do, Mary.” Abby nodded in her direction. “Compare it with Montgomery and Delaware Counties in the suburbs. Montgomery County has only 277 kids in foster placement and Delaware County has 435.”
“So why didn’t DHS let me take Patrick, then?”
“They have to follow procedures.” Abby frowned. “Anyway, I talked to Patrick about the gun at great length, and I’m not worried about his dangerousness. He doesn’t even think it was loaded and he’s sorry. It’s his grandfather’s gun from Vietnam.”
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