Vivian, Midnight Call Girl (Iron Orchids Book 6)

by Danielle Norman

  “Okay. When do you think you’ll be back?”

  “Tuesday or Wednesday.”

  “Just call me if you need anything.” Vivian was always so kind. I had no clue what to do. Ireland needed me and was probably going to need my full attention for some time while she acclimated. Would a woman fit into the mix, especially a skittish one who already had her own baggage? I hadn’t realized it until a sharp pain penetrated my scalp and then pulling my fingers from my head, I saw a clump of hair. Great, I was pulling at my hair. I was sure Sigmund Freud had some psychological diagnosis for this—something like, pulling hair is the stage right before patient enters catatonia.

  Saturday morning I woke, somewhat refreshed, and was headed up to the hospital. I swung through the Donut Bank, got some things I thought Ireland might like, and grabbed a few crullers for me. I was standing at the nurses’ station, trying to ignore the women at eight fifty-five—five minutes before official start of visitation time—and they weren’t letting me go a second earlier. When the recorded voice came across the overhead intercom, welcoming people to Deaconess hospital, I marched forward and into Ireland’s room.

  “You’re back.” Ireland appeared more relieved than shocked.

  “Yep, I’m back. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.” I glanced over at her breakfast tray. “Not hungry?”

  “That’s crap.”

  “Crap? Are you allowed to say crap?” I asked and instantly realized my mistake as Ireland’s face changed. “Hey, I brought donuts.” I held up the bag.

  “What kind? Did you get any Tiger Tails?”

  I handed her the bag, knowing full well there were two in there, thank god, and waited for the bag to come back so I could grab my donuts.

  “So, you might get out of here today?”

  She nodded, as if she had already known that. “Where will I go?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’m hoping it’s with me. I hired an attorney who is trying to get a judge to sign papers that will let me take you out of the hospital.”

  “What if he won’t let you? Where will I go?”

  “To some friends of Miss Karen’s but just for a night or two.”

  Tears welled in Ireland’s eyes. “But I don’t want to go to their house, I don’t know them.”

  “It will only be for a day or two.” I wanted to promise her it would only be for that long, but fear stopped me. No matter how much I wanted to, I knew better than to make a promise I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep.

  “Would I have my own bedroom?”

  “Probably not, but it will be safe.”

  “I’m not going. I want to go home to my house on Koring Road.”

  “I’m trying, Ireland, I can’t promise.”

  “Then get out. Get out. I don’t want to see you. Out. Out.” A nurse came running in to see what all the shouting was about.

  “Ireland, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” She moved me out of the way.

  “I want to be left alone.” She folded her arms across her chest and let out a long huff.

  “Maybe it would be best if you came back later,” the nurse whispered to me.

  I conceded, but not before locking eyes with my daughter. I wanted her to feel the love I had for her, had always had for her.

  Leaving the room, I ran smack dab into Karen.

  “Hey, got a second?” Karen asked.

  “Yeah, but we should probably go to the conference room.”

  “Is Ireland all right?”

  “I don’t know. She told me to leave.”

  “She doesn’t mean it; she’s going through a myriad of emotions right now. It’s important that, whatever you do, you don’t leave her alone too much. She needs to know she isn’t alone, even if she just hears you moving close to her.” Karen paused and looked around for a second. “Here, follow me.” She led me down the hall to a small room and knocked on the door. When no one answered, she opened it and took a seat. I did the same. “How are you doing? Are you positive about this?”

  “Absolutely. When I gave up my rights, I wasn’t in a good place, and it was probably the best thing I could have done for her. But I’m not a scared, broke kid anymore.”

  She smiled warmly. “No, you aren’t, and I’m proud of you for showing up like you did.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t come?”

  “I hoped you would, but when you do what I do for a living and see what I see, sometimes you never know.”

  I lived through some of the nightmares Karen had probably seen, and while she might remember enough of the gossip to think to call me when Ireland’s name landed on her desk, there was no way she could fathom the extent of the neglect I had suffered as a kid. It wasn’t something I liked to talk about.

  “Did you know her adoptive parents?” I asked, hoping that she had.

  “I didn’t. Why?”

  “I need to find out about her parents’ final wishes. I was online yesterday Googling about what children go through and one page talked all about regrets, the regrets people had about not getting to say goodbye to their parent because someone kept them away from the funeral when they were a kid. I don’t want Ireland to feel that way.”

  “I’m really happy to see you taking that initiative. Your attorney will be able to find that out. I brought you a list of names just in case the one yesterday didn’t work out.” Karen reached for her bag.

  “No, the attorney was great, I hired her. She is trying to get a copy of the Lacys’ will and contact Judge Cree.”

  “Who did you hire?”

  “Jameson Lane.”

  Karen’s eyes widened. “You got the best; she is a shark.”

  “What’s next?” I folded my hands and rested them on the table as if praying.

  “I’ll file papers with the state on Monday. The first part of this is very quick, it is where they declare you her temporary guardian and a thirty-day wait period begins. During that time, if anyone has proof of why they should be the legal guardian of Ireland and comes forward then there will be a hearing. The rest is drawn out and may require you to come back for a meeting or two with the judge, but let’s get through this first step before we worry about that, okay?”

  “I’m okay with that, whatever I need to do.”

  “Aaron, I know that you want this, and I believe that you are what’s right for Ireland, now we just need to convince the judge of that. I need to go chat with Ireland and try to find out if they are releasing her today.” Karen got up and left the small room.

  Aaron

  I nearly dropped my phone on the hard terrazzo floor when it rang while I was staring at Vivian’s texts and having a pity party. Not recognizing the number but knowing that it was from this area, I answered anyway.

  “Hello?”

  “Where are you?” a woman asked, I didn’t recognize the voice.

  I answered somewhat reluctantly. “At Deaconess hospital.”

  “Okay, but where, that’s sort of a big building.”

  “Pediatric unit.”

  “I have no ever-loving clue where that is.”

  “Who is this?” I finally asked.

  “Oh, sorry. This is Jameson, your attorney.”

  “I’m on the fourth floor in a private conference room.”

  “Hold that room, I’ll be there shortly.

  “Okay . . .”

  She disconnected, and I was left staring at a black screen, no explanation, no anything. It wasn’t even five minutes later that she walked in wearing a bright red golf skirt and a low-cut, white golf shirt.

  “You aren’t going to believe what I got.” She shook her large bag at me.

  “Obviously, you met the judge at the eighteenth hole.”

  “Yes, and he was shocked to find out Ryan had been killed. The names haven’t been released yet, because they weren’t sure who the next of kin was and were waiting to notify them.” Jameson took a seat at the small table and began spreading out her papers. “After I told him, he informed
me that Judge Lacy had all of his affairs in order as well as an entire estate plan, including guardianship of Ireland according to Judge Cree. He said that he was the one to personally notarize it for Ryan Lacy.”

  “Okay, who is the guardian?”

  “You are.” Jameson pulled a reddish-brown legal file in front of her, opened it, and then unclipped a letter that was fastened to the front before handing it to me.

  I took the envelope with the judge’s seal up in one corner and opened it, not sure why he would leave me a letter.

  Unfolding the letter, I read:

  Aaron,

  If you’re reading this, obviously, something has happened to my wife and me. When we first met you, I saw in you something that I admired; I could tell that you were torn over what was right for Ireland. In the end, I believe you did what was best, and we are thankful for the years we’ve had with her.

  You were just a child yourself, you never had what you wanted Ireland to have. So many times, my wife and I wanted to invite you to come live with us, but I was afraid, not that you would take Ireland or anything, but that you wouldn’t leave. You would cherish having the family you never had and pass up the opportunity of a lifetime, your scholarship and chance to play in the NBA.

  I went to some of your University of Kentucky games, and I tried to make it whenever you played the Pacers. Each time I saw you on the court, I knew I had made the right choice. I’m proud of you and proud of the man you’ve become despite how you grew up. Which leads me to the big request, please take Ireland. We have no one else, and I know that you love her and never forgot about her.

  The mystery gifts that arrived every September nineteenth weren’t such a mystery. It wasn’t hard to guess you’d sent them. She knows all about you, we’ve always been open with her, and I know that with time, she will understand why you did what you did and find appreciation for it.

  I know that you can provide for her and love her. Please think hard on this for us, for Ireland.

  Ryan and Shannon Lacy

  I refolded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. My mind was whirling as I tried to process so much information. I glanced up at Jameson, who was reading a document as well. When she finished, she had a wide smile spread across her face.

  “What did the letter say?” Jameson asked.

  “He asked if I’d take Ireland.”

  “And . . .”

  “Of course I will; it’s what I want.”

  “Then you just need to sign here.” She slid the document she had just been reading over to me. “He already had filled out everything. You are now the temporary legal guardian for Ireland Lacy.”

  “Why not permanent?”

  “You’ll still have to make an appearance in Juvenile Probate so Judge McCree can make it legally binding and have it entered into the records.”

  She pulled a sealed nine-by-twelve envelope out of her file folder and opened it. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Lacy’s will.” Jameson flipped through the pages and quickly scanned everything, before turning her eyes back to me.

  “Basically, everything is left to you if you take Ireland. If you decide not to take Ireland, they ask that you be the trustee and portion out funds to whoever takes care of her when she’s eighteen, twenty-one, and the remaining amount at twenty-five.”

  “I’m taking her, but I don’t want anything, it’s hers, all hers. I have my own money.” I was more than financially stable enough to take care of my daughter.

  “Then do what they asked you to do for anyone else and put it in a trust for her.” Jameson’s phone dinged and she looked at it, scrolling through the text. “That was Judge Cree’s assistant; we are meeting him Monday at ten fifteen in his chambers. Karen Koehler will speak with the judge first and then we will. Ireland must attend.” Jameson leaned forward and placed one hand on top of mine. “Don’t look so worried, if you are positive that you’re ready for this then it is a done deal. We should have this wrapped up in a few days.” She pulled her hand back.

  “Was there anything in there that stipulated their final wishes, like funeral or cremation?” I asked, hoping that if the Lacys had enough forethought to set this up, then they had taken care of final wishes as well.

  “There is.” Jameson handed me a thick legal envelope marked Oak Lawn Cemetery, which I tucked into my inside front breast pocket to read later.

  “We will meet at a quarter to ten Monday morning in the front of the courthouse.” Jameson began sliding everything back into her satchel. “Here’s my card, call if you need anything. This is pretty much a closed case, since they appointed you as her guardian and you are her birth father, so it is very unlikely the judge will contradict their wishes. Oh, I forgot to give you this.” Jameson pulled out another envelope that was bulging with something inside.

  I opened it and found several keys. “What are these for?”

  “His assistant told me they are copies to everything the Lacys owned. Bank deposit, safe, house, cars, everything. All of the other important information is inside.”

  “Do you come across many people this organized?”

  “No, why do you ask?” Jameson raised a brow, studying me.

  “I don’t know . . . it’s almost like he knew something was going to happen to them or something.”

  “Maybe he just saw the nightmare some people go through when a loved one passes away without leaving their affairs in order. The man was also anal retentive. He left his office every day at exactly five after five. He started his sessions on the hour and not a minute late. I think it was just him.”

  “Okay.” I let it go. “Thank you so much for rushing up here with all of this.”

  “No problem, I have to get copies over to the DCF so they know you have legal temporary guardianship.”

  “Karen’s here. She’s with Ireland.”

  “Great, let’s go see if we can find her.”

  I held open the door for her and then pointed to the right. “That way,” I said, knowing she had no clue which way Ireland’s room was. When we turned down the final hallway, I glanced to her, saying, “I’ll pop my head in and get her.” Jameson nodded.

  “Karen?” I whispered and both she and Ireland looked over to me. “Can you step out here for a moment?”

  Ireland was watching me with such hope in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. I hadn’t gone into her room since she’d kicked me out, but I made sure she knew I was in the hospital in case she changed her mind. “You want me to come in and sit with you?” I finally asked. She nodded, and I swore, it was the best feeling in the world.

  I stepped out just as Karen was snapping a photo with her phone of the paperwork that Jameson held out. “This is great news,” Karen exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you and Ireland.”

  “Thanks, I’m pretty happy too.”

  “When the nurse came in to check Ireland’s vitals, she said the doctor should be by around one. If he lets her go, then you are free to leave with her.” It was then, right then, that it hit me. This was really happening.

  I was going to be a father, be responsible for someone else.

  And as Karen said, at one o’clock the doctor came by and examined Ireland, inspecting her wrist and feeling her head for any soft areas. When he was done, he declared her free to go.

  “So, I’m staying at the Double Tree hotel, let’s go there and then we can get you some clothes.”

  “I want to go home. Please, let me go home,” Ireland begged. “Besides, I have clothes there.”

  I had no clue what the right thing to do was. She was wearing kid-size scrubs in a muted, military green. They were ugly, but they were cute on her. So, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have anything to wear out of here, so we could technically go to either place. But, then again, I wasn’t all that sure that her being in that house was a great idea.

  Would it hurt or help her to be in a familiar space?

  If it helped, it would help a lot, but if it hurt, I could always just take her somewhe
re else. “Yes, we can go to your house. But if you want to leave, just say the word. Okay?”

  “Thank you.”

  We made our way out of the hospital and out to my car. “Are you supposed to have a booster seat or something?”

  She gave me a you-are-an-idiot look. “I’m seven, I don’t have to sit in a booster seat. Do you see the size of me?”

  “Yeah. What’s wrong with your size?”

  “Sheesh. I’m ginormous. I’m the tallest kid in Sunday school. Jonah, he’s ten and in the fifth grade, he was the tallest until we joined the church, now I am.”

  I held up my hands in surrender, “Okay, no booster seat, I’m sorry.”

  We got into the car and punched her address into my GPS before pulling out of the parking lot.

  “Hey, I need to call my assistant, okay?”

  Ireland nodded as she stared out the window.

  “Hey, boss, what’s up?” Heidi answered.

  “You’re on speaker, Ireland is here with me. She was released from the hospital.”

  “Oh, that’s so wonderful.” Heidi’s voice had turned bright, as if she were standing in front of Ireland and smiling down at her.

  “Yes, it is. She wants to go to her house, so we are going to head there.”

  “Is that where you are going to stay the rest of your trip?” Heidi asked.

  “I believe so, it’s what she wants.” I glanced over at Ireland, who was nodding.

  “No worries. I’ll get it all taken care of and call you back in a few with the details.” Heidi hung up, and I drove in silence, Ireland peering out the window, occasionally lifting her unbroken hand to wipe at her cheeks.

  When we pulled into the driveway of her house, I didn’t know what to expect. I got out and followed her closely. Her head was held high, her back straight, but if it weren’t for her fingers, even the ones sticking out from her cast, I’d never know that she was nervous. Her fingers moved as if she were tapping along to a song I couldn’t hear. Slowly, I took one of her hands in mine, and she looked up at me and nodded. A silent gesture, she was ready. I unlocked the house and stepped in; Ireland took off running toward a room down a hallway. I assumed it was hers.