Chương 7
Delaney pointed at us without interrupting her call.
Rachel whispered, “See?”
A minute later Delaney hung up.
“Your biggest problem is overnight backup.”
“I can call Mrs. Ellis.”
“You said she's sixty-eight.”
“Sixty-nine next month.”
Delaney stared at me.
“That correction made it worse.”
“She'd enjoy hearing that.”
“She can be part of the plan.”
“She cannot be the entire plan.”
I took out my phone.
There were seventeen missed notifications.
Luis had texted six times.
The first asked how court was going.
The second contained a photograph of a cabinet door installed upside down.
The third said, THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ABANDON US.
I showed it to Rachel.
She stared at me.
“This is your operational backup?”
“He's better with wood than messaging.”
I called him.
He answered over the scream of machinery.
“Did you get them?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you in jail?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I need help.”
The machinery stopped.
His voice changed.
“What kind?”
“Real help.”
I looked at Delaney.
“I need somebody who can be part of an emergency childcare plan.”
Luis was silent.
He had two daughters.
One was fourteen.
The other was eleven.
I had known them since both were small enough to hide behind lumber stacks.
“Bernard.”
“I know.”
“Five?”
“Yes.”
“Five five?”
“Still five.”
He breathed out.
“My wife is going to kill you.”
“Can she kill me after four o'clock?”
Another silence.
Then, “Send me the address.”
I looked at Delaney.
She was already writing his name down.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was Mrs. Ellis.
Her message contained four words.
SAW NEWS.
CALL ME NOW.
I frowned.
Rachel saw my face.
“What?”
I opened the link beneath the message.
A local reporter had posted a photograph from outside the courthouse.
The caption identified me by name.
It described me as a single woodworking-business owner seeking emergency guardianship of five orphaned siblings.
Comments were accumulating beneath it faster than I could read them.
Some called me a hero.
Some called me insane.
One asked what kind of twenty-nine-year-old single man fought to take five unrelated children into his home.
Another replied with a word that made my stomach turn.
Delaney read over my shoulder.
Her expression hardened.
Rachel took the phone from my hand.
“Oh, hell.”
I looked through the conference-room window toward the family waiting area.
Leo was sitting on the floor building something with plastic blocks while Maya leaned against his shoulder.
For the first time that day, none of them were crying.
I reached for my phone.
Rachel pulled it away.
“Don't.”
“I wasn't going to respond.”
“What were you going to do?”
I looked at the comments again.
“Delete every account I've ever had.”
“That,” she said, “is the first legally sensible impulse you've had all morning.”
Delaney did not smile.
“Mr. Vance, if those children are placed with you, this stops being only a private caregiving problem.”
I understood from her face that the support conference had just acquired another item.
Outside the window, Leo stacked one block on another, tested the tower with his finger, and quietly moved Ellie's carrier closer to his knee.
By twelve thirty, the photograph had been shared enough times that strangers were arguing about my motives with more confidence than I had about my own future.
Rachel muted my phone and placed it facedown in the middle of the conference table.
“You are not reading any more of that.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were scrolling with your eyes.”
“I didn't know that was illegal.”
“Give me twenty minutes.”
“For what?”
“To determine whether somebody outside this building has already complicated your case.”
Delaney looked up from her laptop.
“They have.”
Rachel turned.
“How?”
“The regional office saw the post.”
I stared at Delaney.
“What does that mean?”
“It means people who were content to let county staff handle this quietly are now interested.”
“Interested sounds bad.”
“It can be.”
Her laptop chimed.
She read something, frowned, and typed back.
“What are they worried about?”
“Liability.”
Rachel gave a humorless laugh.
“Of course.”
Delaney ignored her.
“If your placement is approved and something goes wrong, the department will be asked why it entrusted five high-needs children to an inexperienced single caregiver after the case attracted public attention.”
“And if you split them?”
“We'll be asked why we separated five grieving siblings after the case attracted public attention.”
I leaned back.
“So everyone becomes more careful because strangers are watching.”
“No,” Rachel said.
“Everyone becomes more afraid.”
That seemed closer.
Through the conference-room window I could see the children eating lunch from brown paper bags provided by the courthouse family unit.
Ben had arranged carrot sticks in a row and refused to eat them.
June was eating his.
Maya held half a grilled cheese sandwich in one hand and the bear in the other.
Leo wasn't eating.
He kept looking toward the door each time someone in a county badge passed.
“Can he see me?”
I asked.
Delaney followed my gaze.
“Probably.”
“Should I go sit with them?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to know whether you're leaving with them.”
The sentence was practical.
I still hated it.
Rachel opened her laptop.
“Let's deal with the public issue first.”
“There is no public issue.”
She looked at me.
“There are now six hundred comments, one local television inquiry, and a man on Facebook offering to start a fundraiser in your name.”
“I don't want a fundraiser.”
“Good.”
“I mean it.”
“Even better.”
Delaney stopped typing.
“You need to say that consistently.”
I looked between them.
“Why would I take money from strangers?”
Rachel leaned forward.
“Because diapers cost money.”
“That doesn't mean I want strangers financing this.”
“I'm not telling you to accept it.”
“Then what are you telling me?”
“That your instincts are about to collide with mathematics.”
The word irritated me because she was right.
May you like
I had just spent nearly everything liquid I had.
The workshop account could cover payroll and operating costs if customers paid on time.
