CHAPTER 33
After dinner,Naomi sat at the kitchen table with her phone in one hand and a mug of blueberry tea in the other.
Grace slept in the bassinet near the window, her tiny chest rising and falling in that steady, peaceful rhythm that always made Naomi’s own breathing slow to match.
Mom had left for the evening, and Millie and Caleb were hanging out together somewhere. Good Boy lay at her feet.
A new woman had emailed about coming to the shelter in a few days. Naomi had responded to the messages and given further instructions.
Now she stared at Karen’s number on the screen, trying to work up the courage to make the call—because what she needed to dodidrequire courage.
Finally, she dialed her number.
It rang twice before Karen answered. “This is Karen.”
“Karen, hi. It’s Naomi King.”
“Naomi. How are you? How’s Grace?”
“She’s good. Really good.” Naomi glanced at the bassinet. “Growing every day.”
“That’s wonderful.” Papers shuffled in the background. “What can I do for you?”
Naomi took a breath. “I’m thinking about bringing Grace to see Sissy. At the jail. Is that possible?”
The shuffling stopped. “You want to take the baby to visit her mother?”
“Yes.”
Karen was quiet another moment before letting out a slow breath. “Well, it’s possible. But it’s not simple.”
“I figured.”
“We’ll need approval from the jail first—they have their own policies about minors visiting. Then you’ll need to register Grace ahead of time and provide documentation proving the placement arrangement. Then there’s the question of whether it’ll be contact or non-contact.”
“How does that work, exactly?”
“Contact means Sissy could hold her. Non-contact means glass barrier and phone communication. Sissy sees her but can’t touch her.” Karen’s voice softened. “Given that Sissy’s in federal custody and the charges are serious, it’ll almost certainly be non-contact.”
Naomi’s chest tightened. The image of Sissy watching her daughter through a pane of glass, unable to hold her, made something ache deep in her ribs.
But it was still better than nothing.
“How long would it take to arrange a visit?” Naomi asked.
“I’m not exactly sure. Maybe a couple of days. Maybe a week. It depends. I’ll need to submit the request, then get approval from both the jail and the federal marshal’s office overseeing her case. Then we’ll need to schedule a time that works with their visitation hours.”
“Okay.”
“Naomi . . .” Karen’s tone shifted, gentler now. “Are you sure about this? Taking a newborn into a jail isn’t ideal. It’s loud. It’s stressful. And it might be harder on you than you think.”
Naomi looked at Grace again. At the tiny, perfect face that had never known her mother’s touch outside a hospital room.
“Sissy needs to see her,” Naomi said. “She needs to know Grace is okay. That she’s loved. That someone’s taking care of her. It’s one thing to be told she’s doing well, and something entirely different to see it for herself.”
Karen was silent a beat before she said, “All right then. I’ll start the paperwork tonight and call you when I have more information.”
“Thank you.”
