“You have temporary parental responsibility, which gives you leverage to get visitation rights set up if she wants to be back in his life. Chances are, she will. The relationship she’s in will break down, and she’ll need somewhere to go. My advice is to work out what you’ll do when that happens.” She downed the rest of the coffee. “And maybe get Toby booked in for some sessions with a play therapist. That can really help.”
We talked everything through some more, Emily offering suggestions and some speculation on what Joanne might do. The benefits she was getting for Toby would now stop, meaning she’d have hardly any income, and while that wasn’t my problem, it did mean she’d contact me eventually.
“I should go. I have a couple more visits to do before I officially finish.” Emily stood up. She looked tired, and I felt grateful for my job. As physically tough as it sometimes could be with training and injuries, I had nowhere near the drama or stress that she had.
I stood as well, the tea long since finished. Toby was with Megs after his holiday club today, and he’d have dinner there too, giving me a chance to have a couple of hours to myself. I could understand some of what Joanne felt – being a parent was hard. You had to be continuously present, but Tobias had been at school for most of each day and I’d always paid for holiday clubs for him – more for his sake than hers.
“Want tickets for the next home game?” I knew she was a fan of the players rather than the game, but if it was something to look forward to after a difficult week,
“I’ve never been to one of the women’s matches, so that would be cool!” She looked genuinely excited.
I laughed. “I meant for the men’s, but you can have both if you want.”
She smiled. “Only if you sit with me at the men’s. I need someone to explain the offside rule!”
It made sense while I was in that part of the building to sign some shirts we were donating to various charities to auction. Once every couple of weeks we were expected to check through requests for signed stuff, look at the sign-up sheet for appearances or visits to schools. It was part of what we were paid for, so I didn’t begrudge it.
Not like the sulky attacking midfielder who sat down at a desk, signing posters. Of himself.
This was the first time I’d seen Rowan since the kiss, and my heart decided to burst through my chest at the sight, my anxiety levels hitting top levels of jitteriness. This was me when I was uncoordinated, tongue tied and hopelessly uncool.
So I breathed. Controlled inhalations, counting calmly in my head.
“Dee, what are you counting for?”
Or so I thought.
“The number of shirts I need to sign that I can remember.” The lie rushed out of my mouth like a striker on a free run at goal.
Rowan grinned. “Not many shirts then. Want to sign some of mine?” He held out a pen.
I hated that grin.
“No. Those people want a shirt signed by you.”
“You could forge my signature.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He was more of a child than Toby.
“You didn’t call me.”
His words had my head spinning to look at him. “What?”
“I thought you might call me.” He actually looked serious. “After that night.”
“What night...”
“Well, that’s me brushed off.” He stood up; any sign of that cocky grin completely gone. The smile he gave me was completely forced.
I sat down, any words tackled right out of me.
“How’s Toby?”
“Good. Good. I’ve just met his social worker – the courts have granted an emergency special guardianship order, so I’ve got parental responsibility… were you waiting for me to call you?” My filters had been knocked off too.
“I hoped you would. But I know you’ve got a shit ton to deal with.” He started signing the shirts again.
My mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and I thanked the stars he wasn’t watching me because I must’ve looked a complete goon.
