“Hello, come on in. I’m sorry, my husband worked half a day, and he’s just now getting home.” I have no clue why I felt the need to share that information, but nonetheless, it fell out of my mouth.

Both women nodded as they stepped in with genuine smiles. At least I hoped they were genuine.

“Can I offer you something to drink? Not alcohol, like tea or something.”

The lady older than me chuckled a little. “I would love a glass of tea.”

I thought about them following me next. I should have taken them to the living room before offering them a beverage. They followed me, but I couldn’t see their expressions. I knew they were checking out our home, probably taking mental notes. I thought about everything that I should have done while we walked in silence for miles. That’s what it seemed like. I hated the tension and the awkwardness.

“I’m Jonnie White, and this is Lyndsey Wagner,” the younger one said, introducing themselves as she slid to Rowan’s barstool.

Shoot. I didn’t want her to sit there. My hand unconsciously held Mi’s little stone, and I swear my nerves calmed. Then again it could have been the name. “My mother’s name was Jonnie. I’ve never heard another female with her name.”

“I hate my name and my parents,” she joked.

“My mom called my sister and I her Clydes. You know, like Bonnie and Clyde? Only we were Jonnie and her Clydes.” I had no clue why I shared that detail either, but honestly it felt kind of comforting, like my mom was with me.

“Sorry about that. Hello, I’m Paxton Pierce, and you are?” Paxton said, finally joining us, with way more confidence than I had.

The ladies introduced themselves and Paxton led the meeting, doing things his way, and not theirs at all. He had them seated on our sofa with their tea while I sat on the loveseat with him.

The older lady sat her glass to the round coaster, a photo of Rowan and Phi in the pool. My nerves did that jittery thing when I watched the expression on her face. It was bad news. I could tell. My hand held the dumb little stone, praying I was wrong.

“Look, before we go any further, I have to tell you that Vander is with a family interested in adopting him. Your sister hasn’t had any contact with Vander all summer.” Lyndsey, the older one explained while she opened the folder from her lap.

“She couldn’t. She was in an accident,” I replied with a raspy, dry throat. I knew it was bad.

Lyndsey shrugged her shoulders, but I wasn’t sure what it meant. “I mean, it’s all right here in black and white. She chose drugs over her child, Gabriella.”

I instantly went into defensive mode. “She was sick.”

Paxton took my hand and squeezed it lightly, then stepped in. “What is it that you’re suggesting?”

“Mrs. Chadwick feels it would be better for the child if—”

“Vander. His name is Vander,” Paxton clarified.

“Vander’s in a good home with a family who loves him now. The Warrens. From what I understand, he’s thriving and extremely happy. The State of Michigan doesn’t think we should disrupt that.”

Paxton stood and my hand grasped the little stone around my neck, willing him not to blow his top in front of them.

“That’s awesome. I’m glad that he’s had a great summer, but truthfully, Mrs. Wagner, that’s all it was. A great summer. He’s our family, and he belongs here with us. What are you saying? If you’re here to tell me we don’t have a right to him, I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. I’m not going in this blind. I know our rights, and unless you can prove us unfit parents, tell me what the next step is.”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. I watched the expressions on both the lady’s faces with cat-like precision, reading every single look.

Jonnie was the one to speak. She clapped her hands together and looked up to Paxton with, I wasn’t sure what. I sort of sucked at reading people.

“Next we ask you some questions, tour your home, and send our finding back to the State of Michigan, along with your intent to continue with the custodial rights to Vander Clyde Delgardo. We’re just the messengers, Mr. Pierce. Just because the State of Michigan thinks they know what is best, doesn’t mean that it is. Lyndsey and I have been partners for seven years now, and we fight for what’s in the child’s best interest. Not the State of Michigan, and certainly not you. Of course if we think Vander should come here with you, show us, Mr. Pierce. Make us want to bat for you, not them.”

Paxton stared down to Jonnie with another look that I couldn’t read, until he looked at me. Something in him clicked, something I’d never seen before. He smiled, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Throw the ball,” he said, his tense attitude disappearing with a smile.

Paxton sat next to me on the sofa and we answered question after question. Everything from how we discipline to what we feed them, their routine, Paxton’s job, my role as a stay-at-home mom, and then the documents they wanted us to gather. Oh my, God. You would have thought we were asking for custody of the president of the United States of America. Marriage license, birth certificates, Paxton’s divorce decrees, proof of income, W-2 or Income Tax Forms for the past five years, a list of savings accounts, investments, debts and insurance policies.

I think we did great. We even joked a few times, and talked about our girls in great detail. Jonnie even shared her dilemma with a boy and girl. She thought they were the only ones who fought like that. I loved that she shared that with us. It made me feel like she was just like us. Like everyone else on this crazy planet with skeletons. All and all, I thought the interrogating interview went well, and then came the tour of our home.

Paxton never let go of my hand the entire time. He did most of the talking, going into great detail about the house, and how he and I did it all. I wondered if he was feeding her a line of shit, or if it was true. I didn’t remember helping with anything there, and he had never mentioned that I did. Then again, he didn’t mention a lot of things.

Jonnie stepped into Rowan’s room with a huge smile. “Barbie’s, my daughter swallowed that pill too,” she admitted, eyes scanning Rowan’s room and the massive amount of Barbie everything.

“Rowan’s our bookworm,” I proudly boasted when Lyndsey picked up her favorite book, Sir Wrinkles, by Lenora Kerr.

“Her mom waited in line for three hours to get that book. It’s signed. She’s very proud of that book,” Paxton explained.

I felt sad about that for a second. I never knew that. I knew that it was her favorite book, and I knew that it was the only one that got a special place on the top shelf. I just didn’t know the story behind getting it. That hurt a little.

Next we went into Phi’s room. “Our little tomboy,” I said, happy smile returning. She had some girl things, but the skateboard, and the dinosaurs were a dead giveaway. Ophelia had a collection of them, and every piece of paraphernalia they made. It worked out, both girls played with the Jurassic World as much as they played with the Barbie’s in Rowan’s room.

We went into the room where the door was boarded up with plywood next.

“Don’t mind the paint smell. We’ve been working on this room, trying to get it ready. I have a window coming. I should get it in this week.”

“We’re kind of up in arms on who to give this room to. I feel like Rowan should have it since she’s the oldest.”

“She’s not that much older than Ophelia. Vander should have the room with the private bath,” Paxton argued. We both looked to see whose side our guests took.

They didn’t take either. “I’ll take this room,” Jonnie decided.

It was rather empty. We painted the room a neutral color, sort of between blue and silver. Comfort Gray was the name on the little card.

The state ladies left us with a lot of hope, and they both assured us they planned to step up to the plate. That made me extremely happy. We walked them to the door, thanking them for coming, hand in hand.