“He’s my brother,” Frankie said. “He has to say stuff like that.”
A tiny burst of jealousy hit Emma squarely in the chest. “You’re lucky to have brothers.”
“Most of the time.” She nudged Emma. “Go keep Nate company.”
“I think he probably wants to talk to you,” Emma replied.
“I don’t think so,” Frankie said with a grin. “I saw the two of you talking earlier. The little birds circling around your heads were very cute.”
“Knock it off, Frankie.” But Emma’s heart beat a little faster as Nathan got closer.
She’d noticed his bright blue eyes the moment he turned to open the door for her. She’d seen the faint smile lines, too. The thick, wavy black hair. He was tall enough to tower over her—not many men could do that.
And his shoulders filled out his suit very nicely.
Then he’d smiled, and her heart had missed a beat.
She was thirty-one—too old to feel this giddy. Too old for little birds to fly around her head. But she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off Nathan Devereux.
As he got closer, he glanced at her and smiled. She smiled back, her palms suddenly sweaty. While he was still several feet away, her phone rang.
She was tempted to ignore it. But she pulled her phone out of her bag to check.
It was her friend Sonya Michaels. “Can I call you back later, Sonya? I’m at the FreeZone reception.”
“Is this Emma Sloan?” a male voice said.
“Yes.” Her relaxed tone disappeared and she gripped the phone. “Who is this?”
“This is Officer Trenton of the Chicago Police Department. Are you Harley Michaels’s aunt?”
She wasn’t. Why did the officer think she was? “Is Harley okay?”
“There’s been an accident. Harley gave us your number.”
“What happened? Is Harley okay?” Emma’s heart began to pound as she hurried toward the door, shrugging on her coat as she juggled her phone and purse.
“She’s fine. Her mother had an accident. We need to talk to Harley’s closest relative.”
“That would be me.” The lie slipped easily off her tongue. Sonya and Harley had no family. “Where are you?”
“We’re at Ms. Michaels’s apartment.”
“Give me fifteen minutes.”
As she opened the door and stepped into the cold wind, she glanced over her shoulder. Nathan stood alone in the middle of the floor, watching her. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
She raised her hand briefly, and he nodded.
As she hurried toward her car, she glanced at FreeZone one last time. Nathan was standing where she’d left him. Still watching her.
Twelve minutes later, she was pounding on the apartment door. A police officer opened it. “I’m Emma Sloan. Where’s Harley?”
“Emma?” Harley’s voice wobbled from the living room, and Emma pushed past the officer.
Harley barreled toward her and threw herself in Emma’s arms. Emma held her tight, the girl’s wet cheek against her own. “I’m here, Harley,” she whispered. “It’ll be okay.”
“No, it won’t.” Harley’s fingers dug into her spine and her body shook with sobs. “M...Mom’s dead.”
“What?” Emma reared back and stared at Harley. “What happened?”
Instead of answering, Harley clung to Emma and sobbed into her chest. Emma held Harley protectively, stroking her back and her bright hair.
Over Harley’s shoulder, a female police officer sat on the couch with Mrs. Vilnius. The older woman who stayed with Harley until her mother got home was weeping into a handkerchief.
The officer stood up and walked over to Emma and Harley. “Ms. Michaels lost consciousness on the bus,” she said quietly. “By the time the paramedics arrived, she was already gone.”
“My God.” Emma felt as though she’d been punched in the chest. Sonya and Harley Michaels had started off as clients. But she’d become close to both of them, and now Sonya was one of her closest friends. Her throat tightened. Had been. “What... How...?”
“We’re not sure,” the woman said, glancing at Harley. “We’ll...ah...have to wait for the results.”
For an autopsy. Emma brushed her hand over Harley’s hair, appreciating the officer’s discretion. “What about Harley?”
The officer gave her an odd look. “That’s why we called you. Harley said you were her only relative. We assumed you’d take custody of her. But if you’re not able to do that, we’ll call DCFS.”
Harley tightened her grip on Emma.
“You don’t have to call them—I work for DCFS,” Emma said to the police officer. “And of course Harley will stay with me.” She laid her cheek against the top of Harley’s head and closed her eyes as grief washed over her. Sonya was gone. Dead, on a bus on her way home.
Harley was alone.
No. She had Emma.
“Good,” the police officer said briskly. “You’ll notify DCFS, then?”
“Yes.” Emma was certified as an emergency foster parent. Since Harley didn’t have any other relatives, there should be no problem being named the girl’s legal guardian.
The police officer nodded, Harley continued to sob and the enormity of it all began to sink in.
Emma dealt with children and families in crisis every day. She was always the outsider, though, schooled to stay detached and cool, giving advice and taking action according to a set of guidelines.
There were no guidelines for helping a child you loved deal with such a devastating loss. Emma didn’t even have a parental role model to reference—she had pretty much raised herself.
So how was she supposed to help Harley? What did she say? Do?
She knew all the pat answers—get her into grief therapy. Be steady and patient with her. Encourage her to talk.
Love her.
She got the love part—she adored the teenager. It was everything else that was terrifying.
She held the girl closer. “I’ve got you, Harley. I’ve got you. You’re not alone.”
A muffled sob was her only answer.
The police officer turned to Mrs. Vilnius, still on the couch. “Thank you for staying with Harley until her aunt could get here, ma’am. We appreciate it.”
The older woman nodded, her dark eyes liquid above the handkerchief. “If Harley needs anything...” She began weeping again, and Harley’s arms tightened around Emma.
“I’ll let you know,” Emma said. She closed her eyes and held the crying girl as Mrs. Vilnius left the apartment.
The male police officer cleared his throat. “Ms. Sloan, if you’ll give me your phone number, we’ll be in touch.”
Reaching one hand into her bag, Emma groped until she found her card case in one of the side pockets. She handed it to the officer, who took one out and handed back the case.
The police officers left, their footsteps retreating down the hall. The only sounds in the apartment were Harley’s sobs.
What now?
Emma stood in the middle of the living room, rocking Harley as she cried. What did you say to a child who had just lost her mother? How did you ease her pain?
Tears trailed down Emma’s cheeks and darkened Harley’s red hair. She had no idea.
She and Harley stood there grieving, as the old apartment building creaked and groaned around them. The wind moaned through the ill-fitting windows and Harley shivered.
Emma held her more tightly.<
br />
Finally, with one last sniffle, Harley lifted her head. Her face was red and blotchy and her eyes swollen. She swiped the back of her hand across her face once, then again. Emma reached for a box of tissues that someone had set on the couch and handed Harley a wad of them.
The girl blew her nose and hiccuped. Her eyes were pools of devastation. “They...they just came to the door,” she said. “Maybe they were wrong. Maybe Mom’s not really dead. Maybe she’s just sick, and they made a mistake. Or maybe they came to the wrong house.”
“I’m pretty sure the police don’t make those kinds of mistakes, Harley.” Emma brushed damp strands of red hair away from her face. “But I’ll make some calls and check, okay?”
Harley nodded and clung to Emma. “I lied to the police,” she said, her voice faint. “But I did what Mom told me to do.”
“What was that, sweetheart?” Emma continued to stroke Harley’s hair.
“I told them you were my aunt. Mom said if she ever got...got sick, or hurt, that’s what I should do. That you’d take care of me.”
“She was absolutely right,” Emma said, pushing Harley’s tear-damp hair away from her face and holding her gaze. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Although she wondered why Sonya hadn’t talked to her about the plan.
She’d probably thought it was one of those things that if you set it up, you’d never need it.
But she had.
Harley stepped away from Emma. She stared around the apartment, her arms wrapped around her waist. The couch and chairs were old and worn, the small television had been a neighbor’s discard, and the rug had faded to a nondescript gray. But Emma had never noticed the Michaels’ lack of possessions. The love that had filled this house had made everything else fade into the background.
“We had a fight last night,” Harley said, her eyes filled with pain. “I told Mom I hated her.”
“Oh, sweetheart, your mom knew you didn’t mean it,” Emma said softly, her heart aching. She held back tears as she tugged Harley onto the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Kids say stuff like that to their parents all the time. Moms know better. Did you kiss her goodbye this morning before you left for school?” It was a safe question, because Sonya never let her daughter out of the apartment without a kiss and an “I love you.”
Harley nodded.
“There you go. Trust me, honey. Your mom had forgotten all about the fight.”
Harley looked away. “I don’t think so. I was pretty mean to her.”
The thirteen-year-old was moody sometimes, and Sonya could be impatient. Her friend would have been upset about the fight. Hurt by the ugly words. But Emma also knew the bond between mother and daughter was strong. They fought as much as any parent and child, but they’d been a unit, facing their problems together. “Your mom knew how much you loved her.”
“What...what happens now?” Harley whispered, her voice hoarse with tears.
Emma had no idea. “Let’s get some of your things and we’ll go to my apartment.” She kept her arm around Harley’s shoulder and steered her toward the bedroom. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? One step at a time.”
CHAPTER TWO
Three weeks later
A FULL MOON glowed through the window as Harley sprawled at one end of the couch, texting her friends. Emma sat at the other end, pretending to read a book.
Every few minutes, Harley glanced at Emma, as if reassuring herself that she was still there. It was barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t watching for it.
Harley had been subdued and sad since her mother died. Emma had expected that.
It was the fear that broke her heart.
Emma picked her up every evening at six, and if she was even a few minutes late, Harley was looking for her with anxious eyes. Here at the apartment, if Emma disappeared into another room, Harley would make some excuse to come find her, as if afraid Emma would vanish once she was out of Harley’s sight.
As she studied Harley’s wavy red hair, Emma’s heart thudded with a hard, painful beat. She hated to make Harley do this. The girl would have to bare her soul to a panel of people who’d decide on Emma’s request to be Harley’s legal guardian. Harley had to be ready.
The meeting was in two days. They had to talk tonight.
Taking a deep breath, Emma closed the book. “Harley, there are some things we need to talk about.”
Harley’s thumbs stilled on her phone. Without looking up, she said, “I already finished my homework.”
“Yeah, I know.” Harley didn’t want to talk about it, either. But Emma was the adult. They needed to have this discussion. “It’s about what’s going to happen.”
Harley’s thumbs began moving furiously. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sweetie, put your phone down, okay?”
Harley kept typing and Emma waited. Finally, her expression carefully blank, Harley set the phone next to her. “I have to leave, don’t I?”
Emma scooted closer, but Harley drew herself into a ball and resisted her touch. “No, you don’t. I love having you here.” She swallowed. “I love you.”
Harley glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “You’re pretty cool, too.”
Emma still wasn’t used to the way Harley’s words made her heart flutter. She reached for Harley’s hand and squeezed it. “I need to tell you what’s been going on. What I’ve been doing. Because you’re old enough to make some decisions yourself.” She took a deep breath. “Do you want to stay with me, Harley?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Yeah, sure? That was all the enthusiasm she could muster? “You need to think about this, okay?”
Harley began texting again. “I’ve thought about it. I want to stay with you.”
“Good. Because I want you to stay.”
“Then we’re all good, right?” she answered without looking up from the keyboard.
“I hope so. I’m pretty sure I’ll be approved as your legal guardian, especially since it’s what you want, too. Since you’re thirteen, your wishes will be considered, as well. But the people making the final decision need to talk to you.”
Harley glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “So?”
“It won’t be a big deal, but they’ll ask you some questions. You have to be sure this is what you want. That’s why I said you have to think about whether you want to stay with me.”
Emma was pretty confident Harley would be convincing. But the thought of not being approved as Harley’s guardian, of Harley living with strangers, had been keeping her awake every night.
It was hard to believe that after only three short weeks, Emma couldn’t imagine life without Harley. Yes, they were still adjusting to one another. There were speed bumps and frustrations for both of them. But Emma wanted Harley with a soul-deep longing that was frightening.
She could do this. She could take care of Harley. She may not have had any experience raising children, but between the families she saw every day and her own experience growing up with an irresponsible, careless mother, she knew what not to do.
Harley had picked up her phone again. As her fingers flew over the keyboard, she glanced at Emma out of the corner of her eye. “I said I wanted to stay with you,” the girl said. “I’ll tell them, too. It’s what Mom would want. Or why would she have told me to say you’re my aunt?” She rubbed the back of her head. “Unless I have an aneurysm, too. Then you’re not stuck with
me.”
“Harley, I am not stuck with you,” Emma said, her heart aching for the girl. “I’ll fight for you forever. And just because your mom had an aneurysm doesn’t mean you’re going to have one.”
As soon as they’d found out what killed her mother, Harley had looked up aneurysm on Google and learned they could run in families. Emma had caught her rubbing the back of her head more than once, as if trying to massage a weak blood vessel.
Harley put her hand back on her phone. “Whatever. But my mom wanted me to stay with you.”
“I’d like to think so.” Emma had no idea what Sonya would have wanted. They’d never talked about it. “Maybe she had a will. That’s why we need to go back to your apartment and sort through your stuff.”
Harley wrapped her arms around her waist and shook her head. “Not yet.”
They’d talked about this more than once. Harley needed the rest of her things, Emma needed to know if there was a will, and the apartment had to be cleaned out. It wasn’t fair to the landlord to keep stalling.
Harley flatly refused to return to her apartment. It was the only time she hadn’t gone along with what Emma suggested.
Harley didn’t want to rock the boat. She was worried that Emma wouldn’t keep her. Emma got it, and that was why she hadn’t pushed about the apartment. But it had to be done.
“All right, you don’t have to go. I’ll do it by myself.” She’d put all of Sonya’s belongings in storage until Harley was ready to deal with them.
“When?”
“This weekend.”
“You want me to stay here by myself?”
“If that’s what you want. You can watch movies, or read a book.”
“That’s boring.” Harley jiggled her toe on the carpet.
“What would you rather do, then?”
“I’ll go see Mrs. Vilnius. She’s probably sad about Mom.”
“That’s very thoughtful. I’m sure she’d like to see you.”
Bending the Rules Page 2