Page 18 of Nothing Left To Lose But You

“Um, well . . . ,” I stammer, praying for time to slow and allow me to come up with something to say.

My fear and anxiety are tangible, and the woman looks at me, smiling before saying, “It’s okay. There’s no right or wrong answer here. We want to understand where your desire for guardianship comes from.”

The small seed of confidence Izabeth buried in the pit of my stomach this morning sprouts, but I stare at the floor as I answer. I’m too scared to meet their eyes.

“My brother and I grew up in foster care. I know every home is different, but we didn’t have a great experience overall. I lost count of how many homes we were shuffled through. Some were kinder than others, but there are some I’ll never forget until the day I die.” Now that my words are flowing I’m talking too quickly. I pause and take a deep breath.

“Rainey deserves better. She’s already been in emergency placements when Dunbar was arrested and I was out of town for work. You can probably see in your file, in the past she’s stayed a day or two with me while my brother was hospitalized or arrested. The only reason she’s not been with me all the other times is because he likes to weaponize my relationship with my niece to control me.”

I notice a hole in one of the black flats I wore, but continue speaking. “I’m the only blood relative Rainey knows. Her mother took off after she was born to god-knows-where and we know nothing about her family.”

“I live in fear every call I get from Georgia will be the one where she’s letting me know my brother lost all custody of Rae and I’ll never see her again. Taking care of her for these last two weeks has been hard, but it’s also been the most important thing I’ve ever done. I love her. In my home, I know she’s safe and won’t go to bed hungry. She has a bed to sleep in and clean pajamas to wear. I’d be lying through my teeth if I said I have this figured out—I don’t. But I love Rainey, and I’ll do anything necessary to protect her and make sure she doesn’t end up in the same cycle destroying my brother.”

An hour after entering the meeting room, my interview ends. The social workers shake my hand and let me know one of them will be in touch within the next few days.

Emotionally exhausted, I swing through the local Chinese restaurant drive-thru on our way home. I need comfort, even if it comes in the form of General Tso’s chicken.

For the next two days, every ding or ring of my phone causes me to jump, ready for a verdict. Simultaneously, time flies by as each day becomes a series of lists and preparation for Rainey’s start of first grade. When Wednesday afternoon rolls around, I just want to be put out of my misery. Denial of temporary guardianship will crush me, but the building tension from the wait is just as unbearable.

I pick up my phone to text Izabeth for the thirty-seventh time since Monday’s interview, but mid-typing of my whiny message, my phone rings. I don’t know the number.

“Hello? This is Noah,” I answer in my how-can-I-help-you voice I’ve perfected over the years.

“Hi, Noah. This is Chase. We met Monday at your guardianship interview.”

Rainey’s laying on the living room rug coloring and humming to herself. I slip out of the room and down the hallway into the half bathroom.

“Yes. I remember you.” My mind’s saying ‘play it cool,’ but my heart wins and I blurt out, “Pleasetell me you’re calling with news about my guardianship.”

“I’m calling withgoodnews.”

“You are?” This is the moment I’ve dreamed about, but I’ve been too afraid to believe it was possible.

“Yes. My fellow case manager and I went over the notes from your interview, and we’re recommending the director grant you temporary guardianship.”

“THANK GOD.” I yell in the poor guy’s ear before I realize I’ve done so, defeating the purpose of hiding from Rainey in the bathroom. “I didn’t mean to yell in your ear,” I apologize.

He fake laughs. “It’s okay—happens more than you think.”

“So, I get guardianship?”

“Well, not yet. There’s still a process we have to go through. The application and interview were the first steps,” he explains. “The reason it took this long to get back to you, which I’m sorry about, is my partner and I have to submit a detailed report with our recommendation, including all the pertinent background information we got from your references. I won’t have a response from the director until sometime next week. There are several files ahead of yours.”

“Can the director say ‘no’?” I still feel like a fraud caring for Rainey, and my deepest fear is someone else realizing it, too.

“It’s possible, but I’ve been in this position for two years, and I’ve never heard of the director going against his caseworker’s recommendation. Once he rubber stamps his approval, there are a few other hoops you’ll have to jump through.”

“I’ll do whatever I need to. Say it and I’ll get it done.”

“There’ll be a visit to your home. We’ll assess the condition and location of Rainey’s placement. You mentioned someone who will babysit at your interview. We’ll need to run a background check on them. If both go well, your approval will be completed. Going forward, you’ll have a once-a-month visit at your home to check in on Rainey and provide any support you need.”

“So for now, I just . . . wait?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I’ll get back to you after the director reviews our recommendation, and we can schedule your home visit.”

“I’ll wait for your call, then.”

The pure relief in the exhale I release is unlike anything I’ve felt. I’m not in the clear yet, but I’m miles ahead of my expectations. Still holding my phone, I delete the text I was in the middle of sending to Izabeth and type:

---