If Only Forever

by Sophie Love

  “Oh, um…” Emily scratched her neck. If they didn’t know whether their own mothers would come, how on earth were they supposed to know about the other guests! “We’re still finalizing the numbers.”

  “No problem at all,” Laura said, tipping her eyes back down to her ring binder, which contained glossy photos of food, flowers, and decorations, along with a list of prices and customizations.

  Though she still had that robotically professionals smile on her face, Emily could read in her eyes a growing exasperation. She must be wondering how she was going to help them organize anything if they didn’t know even the basics.

  “Our suggested layout would be with the head table over there,” Laura explained, gesturing toward the stage area at the back of the room. “That’s usually for the wedding party, so bridesmaids, groomsmen, family. You can have a small table for just six, or a large table for up to sixteen. Do you have a rough idea of the numbers?”

  Emily felt her chest constricting. This was a disaster. And Daniel seemed more nervous than her. In fact, he looked downright uncomfortable.

  “It’s a bit complicated,” Emily explained. “With our families. Maybe we should move on and come back to that a bit later.”

  She couldn’t bear the tension anymore. Laura looked flustered too, clearly realizing she wasn’t dealing with the usual here.

  “Yes of course.” She quickly flipped through several pages in her binder. “So we have the large double doors over there. They can be left open if the weather is nice. Are you hoping for a spring or summer wedding, or are you more of an autumn/winter couple? We’re completely booked for spring and summer next year so you’d have to wait, but we have autumn and winter spots available.”

  Emily watched Daniel’s reaction to the news that their wedding could take place as early as next September. He went completely pale. The sight of him made Emily even more nervous.

  Chantelle seemed to be picking up on the tension. Her goofy confidence was waning. She kept looking from Emily to Daniel, her enthusiasm fading with every passing moment.

  “Maybe we should take your card for the time being,” Emily said to Laura. “Rearrange when we know a few more details.” She stood abruptly.

  “Oh, oh, okay,” Laura said, taken aback, dropping her binder in her haste to stand and shake Emily’s hand.

  Emily did so quickly. Then she rushed out of the venue, leaving Daniel behind to shake Laura’s hand just as swiftly. She burst out of the doors and onto the steps, listening to the sound of Daniel’s distant voice explaining to Laura that they’d be in touch.

  Out in the cold, Emily held back her tears. She was shaken to the core. Not just from their lack of plans, or from Daniel’s general quietness over the last few days, but from the micro-expressions he was making and what she inferred from them. Did Daniel actually want to marry her or was the proposal some impulsive moment he’d gotten swept up in? Was the reality of choosing a date in the not too distant future giving him cold feet? What if he took the cowardly approach of pushing the wedding back a few years, leaving her in a state of limbo, dragging out the engagement for as long as possible just as Jayne had warned?

  “Emily,” Daniel tried as he and Chantelle joined her.

  She felt his fingertips brush her hand but she pulled away, not wanting his touch at this moment in time.

  Daniel didn’t try again. She heard him sigh. Then, silently, everyone piled back into the pickup truck.

  The mood on the drive home couldn’t have been more different from the mood on the way there. It was almost as if the air was permeated with anxiety. Chantelle’s cute outfit suddenly seemed like a façade, like they’d dressed her up in order to trick Laura into viewing them like any other happy, uncomplicated family when they were in fact anything but. Their pasts—hers, Daniel’s, even Chantelle’s—complicated everything. And worse than that, their pasts complicated their very beings, their personalities, their abilities to deal with pressure and stress, their abilities to relate to one another.

  For what felt like the hundredth time since he proposed, Emily wondered what was really going on inside Daniel’s head.

  CHAPTER SIX

  When Emily had first told Daniel about her desire to adopt Chantelle, they’d contacted their friend Richard Goldsmith, who was a custody attorney from town. An informal chat had taken place in the inn over coffee and cake. But this time, their meeting was taking place in his office in town. This time it felt serious and very real.

  Emily nervously smoothed down her skirt as she and Daniel entered the plush office, which looked like something out of a story book, set in an old red brick building covered with climbing ivy. Emily couldn’t help her feelings of apprehension. What if Richard had bad news? What if she would never be able to become Chantelle’s real, legal mother like the little girl seemed to desire as much as Emily herself?

  The receptionist, a young woman with fiery ginger hair, welcomed them with a sweet, reassuring smile.

  “Mr. Goldsmith will be with you shortly,” she said, without them even needing to introduce themselves. “He’s just been held up with another client.”

  Emily squirmed and chewed her lip. Client. It felt odd to think of herself in such a way. But that’s what she was, and what she must be to achieve her goal. Taking legal custody of Chantelle wasn’t just a matter of chatting with an acquaintance on her porch over coffee anymore. It would involve lawyers and courts, judges and legal documentation. This was real and she needed to get used to it.

  Emily steeled herself. She could handle this. She had to; she loved Chantelle too much to fail, to wilt under the pressure. But there was another part of Emily that was still reeling from Saturday’s failed trip to the wedding venue and the way Daniel had clammed up at the mere suggestion of selecting a season during which they would be wed. If he was changing his mind about this, he needed to be brave and tell her before things got serious, before contracts were signed and hearts were too much on the line to turn back. The words of her family and friends still repeated in Emily’s mind, that Daniel was using her because he wanted someone to raise Chantelle for him, that Emily had made it too easy on him. She’d let him live rent free on the grounds of her property, she’d taken his child in without question, and had forgiven him so quickly for those long six weeks during which he’d prioritized his child over her. But what they didn’t accept or understand was how all those things made her love him more: his resourcefulness and resilience during the years he’d lived in the carriage house, the care he’d shown the property during the decades it had stood empty, keeping it on life support in case Roy Mitchell returned, and the fact he’d stepped up for Chantelle without question, proving himself to be a real man, the sort that didn’t shirk his responsibilities, that put his child’s needs over his own.

  The door to Richard’s office suddenly swung open, making Emily jump out of the thoughts she’d been absorbed in. Richard stood in the doorway as he shook hands with a petite, blond woman sniffling into a tissue. She reminded Emily instantly of Sheila. A wave of guilt crashed over her.

  Emily couldn’t hear Richard’s hushed words but she picked up on his reassuring tone. Then he bid goodbye to the woman and she shuffled past them, heading out the door in a flurry.

  Once she was gone, Richard turned to Emily and Daniel. “Please, come in.”

  “Is she okay?” Emily asked as they followed him into his office.

  She was concerned for the woman he’d just shown out, but also curious about the reason for her tears. Perhaps she was about to enter a court battle like them, only she was on the flip side of the coin, the side where she was having her legal guardianship revoked. Was it fair? Had she done anything to deserve it, drugs, abandonment? Did anyone ever deserve it?

  But then she remembered Chantelle. No, it wasn’t fair. But this wasn’t about what was fair, it was about what was right.

  “I’m afraid I can’t discuss that,” Richard said, putting an end to Emily’s wild flight of fantasy.
He settled into his large leather chair and adjusted the pant legs of his crisp gray suit. “I have to show the same level of confidentiality to all my clients. I’m sure you understand.”

  Emily’s unease abruptly returned on hearing that word again. Client. It reminded her how serious this was. They were paying for this meeting, for Richard’s expertise and his time. Everything had become suddenly very formal. Emily wondered whether she should have worn a suit.

  Daniel seemed just as uncomfortable beside her. She could tell by the way he kept fidgeting and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. They were both very much out of their comfort zone in Richard’s plush office.

  Richard removed his glasses and looked up from their file. “So there are two options to consider here. It partly comes down to semantics, but there are some crucial differences between the two courses of action we can take.”

  “Which are…?” Emily prompted.

  “Guardianship or adoption,” Richard concluded. “Guardianship, in its basic form, would simply establish a legal relationship between Chantelle and Emily but it wouldn’t end Sheila’s legal relationship with her child. On the other hand, with adoption, all of Sheila’s rights and obligations over Chantelle would cease and Emily would henceforth be considered her mother. In other words, she would be a substitute for Sheila in every legal sense. Adoption is intended to create a permanent and stable home, so we would need Sheila to relinquish her rights over Chantelle, and to understand that this would be irrevocable.”

  Emily nodded, letting his words seep in. She thought of Chantelle in her room asking her to promise Sheila would never come back.

  “Chantelle doesn’t want a relationship with her mom,” Emily explained.

  “But a guardianship would be much easier to secure,” Richard contested, folding his hands on the desk. “If Sheila isn’t prepared to relinquish her rights over Chantelle, which from what you’ve told me of her thus far she would not want to do, we’ll have to prove that Chantelle would not just be better off with you but that Sheila is unfit to care for her, and that allowing her any kind of contact with her mother would cause her harm.”

  “She’s told me time and time again she wants me to be her real mom,” Emily said. “That she never wants to see Sheila again.”

  Daniel looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think it would be right to cut Sheila out entirely.”

  Richard listened to them quietly. “This isn’t about visitation rights or anything like that. If you become Chantelle’s legal mother, it would be up to you whether she ever sees Sheila again. Unless you’re planning on taking out a restraining order on her. This is just about the legality, about who makes the decisions regarding her care.”

  It felt too clinical. How could a child’s life and well-being be considered just a legality? This was her heart they were talking about. There was no way of separating out her emotions. It was impossible.

  Emily touched Daniel’s hand lightly.

  “It needs to be full adoption,” she explained. “Otherwise Sheila might take her away from us one day. Chantelle wakes up screaming in the night about that prospect. She’s asked me over and over again to protect her from Sheila. She’s asked if I can be her mom. I know she’s only seven but that girl knows her own mind.”

  Daniel finally relented with a single, sad nod. Emily felt bad for him, but at the same time she was certain that this was the right thing to do for Chantelle’s sake.

  “We’re going for adoption,” Daniel confirmed.

  Richard nodded. “Each state has a different process,” he explained. “But here in Maine, we’d need to file a petition of relinquishment to Sheila. The courts would serve her with papers, then she’d be entitled to counseling, there’d be a mediation meeting in front of a family law magistrate with the aim of coming to a peaceful resolution. Finally, a court date would be set for a judge to make a decision. Of course, if Sheila gives consent, things will go more smoothly. If she fights the petition then things will take longer as there will need to be a summary hearing, a jeopardy hearing, a judicial review, and finally a permanency planning hearing.”

  “What costs are involved?” Daniel asked.

  “Some,” Richard explained. “But they’re not as hefty as you’d expect. We’re talking around two hundred dollars per meeting, so it will be less than a thousand dollars all in.”

  One thousand dollars. That’s all it would take to make Chantelle their daughter. One thousand dollars, plus weeks and months of anguish.

  “Daniel,” Richard then said somewhat solemnly, “I must make it clear that your prior conviction won’t do you any favors.”

  “Prior conviction?” Emily stammered.

  “I told you,” Daniel said in a hushed, embarrassed voice. “When I defended Sheila. From her ex-husband. You remember.”

  “You went to court over that?” Emily said. She hadn’t realized it had been so serious. She’d assumed Daniel had just gotten a slap on the wrist by the local cops and sent on his way.

  She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, reeling.

  Richard coughed and carried on. He didn’t seem fazed. He’d probably seen it all in his office.

  “What would really help for you, Daniel, is if you showed you were in paid employment.”

  “He is,” Emily said. “He works for me.”

  “He’s not on your payroll, though,” Richard explained. “Cash-in-hand work doesn’t look great. It needs to be consistent. A nine-to-five preferably.”

  “Okay,” Daniel said, sounding resolved. “I’ll do that if it will help.”

  Emily felt suddenly apprehensive. Daniel had always been available to her. Theirs was a fifty-fifty partnership. How would she cope with him out of the house all day? She’d be left to look after Chantelle alone. But the pressure for a full adoption was coming from her. If Daniel had his way, they’d take the less dramatic guardianship route. This was all her doing.

  Richard folded up their file and returned his glasses to his nose. “Well, the next steps are for me to prepare the documentation, put the legal request forward to Sheila’s attorney. Then I’ll be in touch with more news. I must warn you, this will stir up bad blood in the short term. You ought to prepare for some drama.”

  Daniel squeezed Emily’s arm for reassurance.

  “We can handle it,” Emily told Richard. “For Chantelle, we can handle anything.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  With Richard Goldsmith’s words still ringing in their ears, Emily and Daniel returned to the inn, hoping for some quiet time to reflect on their situation. Instead, they found that the inn was buzzing with activity.

  The several guests who had arrived over the weekend were being served food in the dining room by Matthew, the young chef Emily had taken on full time to help Parker out now they’d started serving lunches and evening meals. Colin, who was still occupying the carriage house and now took most of his meals in the inn, was amongst them, his handsome face attracting stares from the women that he seemed impervious to.

  Colin had kept mostly to himself since Thanksgiving. He always disappeared off to the carriage house as soon as he’d finished eating to immerse himself once again in his work. His dashing good looks were the talk of the town (amongst the female residents at least), and his quiet brooding just added to the mystery. Emily knew that he’d recently separated from his wife and wondered whether he’d thrown himself into his work (whatever that may be) in an attempt to take his mind off his troubles. His head was always buried in his laptop. Either that or he’d be scribbling furiously into a notepad, just as he was doing now at his dining table in the corner. Emily was intrigued about what his job may be but of course didn’t want to be nosy and actually ask.

  As Daniel and Emily walked through the corridor, Emily noticed a young woman in brightly patterned leggings standing at the empty reception desk waiting for service. Serena’s shift was over and it was Lois, the new girl who’d only been with them a week or so, who was supposed to be covering reception
duties. But she was nowhere to be seen. Emily looked at the rusty bronze antique till she’d purchased from Rico’s sitting upon the heavy marble top. Theft wasn’t exactly high on her list of concerns in a place like Sunset Harbor but you could never be too careful.

  “I’m so sorry,” Emily said to the waiting woman, rushing behind the desk in a hurry. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Tracey,” the short woman said, beaming brightly and swishing her mousy chin-length hair. “The new yoga teacher.”

  “Oh!” Emily exclaimed, noticing for the first time the rolled up yoga mat beneath the woman’s arm.

  It had totally slipped Emily’s mind that she’d arranged for yoga classes to be taught in the ballroom as a way of bringing in a tiny bit more income. She and Tracey had agreed on the telephone that twenty percent of the profits would go to the inn, but since Tracey’s classes were only $10 and only Karen and Cynthia had thus far shown any interest, Emily wasn’t expecting it to turn into much of a money spinner.

  Still, on first meeting, Tracey seemed like she’d be a calming and reassuring presence in the inn. Emily was glad to know there’d be another person around the place since Daniel was soon going to be absent more often.

  Emily led Tracey to the ballroom.

  “It’s so much more wonderful than I expected,” Tracey gushed in her floaty voice as she gazed around her, taking in the polished floors and beautiful Tiffany glass windows. “This is a very relaxing environment,” she continued. “Inspiring.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then released it slowly. “Yes, this will do nicely. The room has a wonderful aura.”

  Emily managed to contain her smile. Then she left Tracey to set her yoga station up and rushed back to the still unmanned reception desk to grab the ringing phone.

  “The Inn at Sunset Harbor,” she said, distracted by the fact that Daniel was now nowhere to be seen.