My stomach knots. “I don’t think he’s that type, but...”
“I hope you’re right. Custody situations tend to bring out the worst in people.”
My spirits start to sink.
“He may not want guardianship at all; he might just want to see what the arrangements are for the child’s care and to make sure that the mother’s wishes are being followed. Or perhaps he’s looking for some kind of visitation.”
“Can he do that?”
“Anyone can sue anybody for anything. It doesn’t mean he’ll get it. But considering that he’s an attorney—and it looks like a good one; he’s with a very well-respected firm—my advice would be to work out some kind of friendly arrangement, if that’s what he’s after.” His gaze is direct and somber. “The donor contract should be binding, but you don’t want to get into a legal showdown. And the children might resent it if down the road they learn you kept them from knowing their father.”
That’s what Sarah had said. I fight back a rising wave of despair. “So what’s my status right now? Am I the legal guardian of Lily, or can Margaret overrule me?”
“According to the terms of the will, you are now Lily’s guardian, because Margaret is incapacitated.” He pulls a notebook from his jacket pocket and jots something down. “I’ll handle the paperwork to get the trust payments for Lily’s care sent to you.”
“Is there any way Margaret can cause problems if she recovers enough to think she can care for Lily?”
He taps his fingers together. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue. There’s a note in Brooke’s papers that she wanted you named primary guardian when Margaret turned eighty, and that ought to hold up in court. If you can get a statement from her doctor that her health is precarious and that, in his opinion, she’s permanently unfit to care for a young child, well, that would be helpful, too.”
I’m pretty certain the hospitalist I met with will write a statement to that effect. “All right.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“I’m going to need to update my own will.”
“Oh, yes! Yes, you certainly will. I’ll send you home with some papers. You can email them to me, then we’ll set up an appointment for you to come back when you’re ready.” He stands, signaling the meeting is over. “Try not to worry, Quinn. Hopefully Mr. Bradley is just trying to ensure that Lily’s interests are protected.”
“I hope that’s all it is,” I say, but not worrying is easier said than done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jessica
IT FEELS WEIRDto be at home during a workday, but since I skipped the meetings in California because I said I had a family emergency, it would be even weirder to go into my office at the New Orleans hotel. I decide to get a head start on packing up the condo for the move.
I’m sorting through some items in the back of the clothes closet when my phone dings, indicating I’ve received a text. I pick it up and see that it’s from Brett:Hey, how are things in the Big Easy?
My mood immediately lightens.Great, I text. How are things there?
Good. Is now an ok time to call?
Sure.
A few seconds later, my phone rings. “Hi, Brett,” I say. My voice sounds slightly breathless.
“Hi. Did I catch you in the middle of something?”
“Not really. I’m home playing hooky.” I walk into the living room and plop down on the sofa. “How was Petey’s softball game?”
“Great! He hit two base runs and caught an outfield fly ball. I’m especially proud of that catch. Kids his age hardly ever do that.”
“He must have gotten his father’s athletic prowess.”
“His father has prowess, huh? That sounds kinda sexy.”
“Well, it kinda is.” I feel my face heat. OMG, am Iflirting? “But that wasn’t the point I was trying to make; I was saying your son is a chip off the old block.”
He laughs. “I knew what you meant. I was just joking around.”
