Turning down the radio when the large building came into sight, my knuckles popped as I flexed them to turn into the parking lot. Getting out of my Porsche Cayenne, the first thing I spied was a woman who had to be in her early forties bundled up in one of those huge parachute material puffy monstrosities. There was no way I went to high school with her. Maybe Karen had something come up.
“Aaron, it’s been a long time.” The woman stepped in to give me a big hug. “It’s me, Karen.” She pulled back. “You haven’t changed one bit.”
“Thanks. How have you been?”
“Oh, you know, I’ve been good. I’m a mom—oh, and I married Buck Koehler, you two played basketball together. Remember him?”
Holy shit, where were the batteries to turn this thing off?
“I do.” Buck had been the biggest asshole on Earth. Every time he thought I showed him up, he’d pull some stupid prank and think it was funny as hell.
“Come on, it is way too cold to be standing outside. We have a small conference room waiting for us.” Karen began walking and I was left to follow as she continued chattering. “Well, you are just famous here. Have you been over to Reitz High School yet? Oh, of course not, you just got in. But you should, they have your jersey up in a case along with some of your photos and the team’s photos the years you all won State Championship. Mater Dei is still our biggest rival around here, nothing like good ole westside rivalry, huh?”
“Yeah.” I kept my head down as we maneuvered through the hospital to a small room. My mind was on Ireland and trying not to vomit as the overpowering smells hit me: it was a mixture of disinfectants, cleaners, and just that nondescript smell of sick people.
“Here we go.” Karen set her bag on a table and then began removing the overstuffed parachute burrito. “All right, let’s get to business.”
Her manner changed, and she turned into a caseworker. I was pleasantly surprised to see that I wasn’t going to have to put up with the insane garble any longer. “First, as I’m sure you know, Ireland Kelly Lacy is seven years old as of—”
“September nineteenth, yeah, I know.”
“Both her parents were only children, and according to information relayed by Judge Lacy’s assistant, there were no other family members. She did inform us that there is a directive filed so she is trying to get that for us.”
“Judge?”
“Yes, Ryan Lacy was a circuit court judge, he handled traffic court, and his wife, Shannon, was a stay-at-home mom who homeschooled Ireland. I contacted you because Ireland has very few options unfortunately, but ultimately my goal is to make foster care the last option. I’ll try every possible alternative, and you are it. What I need to know is whether you are in a position to assume custody of your biological daughter.”
“I am.” It was weird because there was no stutter or no second to hesitate. The answer just flew out. “She’s mine. I have the means to take care of her.”
“Very well then. There will be forms to fill out, and we’ll need to meet with a judge who handles these cases. Because I’m assuming you are going to want to take her back to where you live?” Karen pulled out a huge folder and handled it over to me.
“Of course, my job is there. I’d like to get an attorney to help go through the paperwork with me.”
“I can—”
Karen was cut off by a knock at the door and in walked a doctor. He had that white circle of hair that looked like a snow crown, while the top of his head was bald. Why not just shave it at this point, has anyone told him how stupid that looked?
“Mrs. Koehler, may we speak?” the doctor asked.
“Doctor Lewis, this is Aaron Skkye.” I stood to shake the man’s hand. “He will be Ireland’s temporary guardian until the courts make a ruling,” Karen explained.
“Very well. Ireland is doing remarkable considering what she’s been through. She broke her radius and fractured her ulna, so we set the bones. The radius required a pin to move it up to the scaphoid. Surgery went well, but she did sustain a concussion, so we would like to keep an eye on her a little longer. Do you all have any questions for me?”
“Nope, I think we’ve got it,” Karen answered.
“I do. How is she emotionally right now, has anyone told her?”
“Yes, she knows they are deceased, she was locked in the car with them until rescue could cut her out. She is how you would expect after learning of such stuff,” The doctor answered.
I turned to Karen and whispered, “She is how is expected… How can anyone expect this? She’s a kid. I can’t imagine being locked in a car after both of my parents had just been killed.”
“Neither can I, which is why we need to be very delicate with how we proceed. She’s seen more than someone her age ever should, and the ramifications of that could manifest in a number of different ways.”
The doctor looked thoughtful for a second before adding, “Before we discharge her, I will make sure to pass along some referrals for child psychologists who specialize in these kinds of situations.”
“Thanks.”
The doctor left, and after a moment, Karen offered me a soft smile. “Do you want to go see her?”
“I would love that.”
“Then let’s go, but please remember that we aren’t sure if she knows that she was adopted so we need to move gingerly on this, okay?”
Karen handed me a visitor’s badge and then led me through the hospital. On our way, I shot off a handful of texts to Heidi, asking her to find me a family law attorney, and she assured me she would get right on it.
After what felt like a three-mile-long walk, Karen came to a stop in front
