May I: Protective Hands

Gillian felt like the wind had been knocked out of her—all for several different reasons. Hearing that Ava had only a couple of days, seemed to change everything. She remembered how Ava had told her about Sophie’s father leaving, and realized that Sophie had no one.

But with her job being as demanding as it was—could she give Sophie everything that she needed? She had just moved into a new place last year, and was just barely starting to feel settled from the divorce.

How could she take on raising a child? Sophie looked so scared, the fear in her voice as the little girl uttered “mommy” over and over again—was heartbreaking. It broke her so deep that she wasn’t calling to her.

 

Her heart ached to keep her safe, but her whole body was stiff as it beat against her chest. This little girl was losing something far more important: a mother. A mother who had sat down on the floor and played with her; who taught her how to walk and talk and learn, put her in the high chair and fed her every day; kept her safe and kissed her when she fell down. 

Gillian looked across the room at Cal, who was speaking heated words with the doctor over at the nurse’s station. What made it worse was the nurse who had been taking care of Gillian, had just come out of the ER.

Sinking into one of the seats, Sophie scrambled up onto the chair next to her, with a pout on her face; looking deeply confused. Not really sure how to diminish the confusion—or what to say to her, or if Sophie could really understand. Her thoughts already felt so jumbled, so scattered—and still: that pout was really getting to her.

It reminded Gillian of when Sophie was a baby. Just before the little girl would start crying, her whole face would scrunch up as she gave this pouting cry; that would only stop when she was rocked back and forth.

Sophie was grown up—no longer being able to fit into her arms as easily—but the little girl was starting to whimper now; despite it being a fairly loud waiting room of screaming children, chatter and ringing phones.

Ignoring the protest of her shoulder, she put Sophie on her lap and began rocking her, slowly. It was worth a try. As she did, the little girl quieted down, and Cal returned a few minutes later and sat down by them.

He was quieter than usual, which usually happened if he was thinking—then he spoke up. “You look like a natural to me, love.” He gestured over to Sophie, who was watching a little boy play over at the block table. She squirmed out of her arms and toddled over towards him.

Gillian looked down at her hands, feeling a little disappointed that Sophie didn’t want to be held. It just made it feel so much more real that her little girl had grown up. “It isn’t that that I haven’t been around little children, Cal—just not enough to know what they eat, drink, or even how to kiss their wounds when they get hurt.”

“I’m pretty sure no one does.” Grunting, he went and scooped up Sophie when she had strayed too far for them. The little girl gave a surprised gasp, followed by a small giggle—and then she squirmed in his arms.

“Want down.” She protested, squirming even harder; her little legs kicking back and forth in the air. He didn’t put her down, until they were standing by the block table.

“Stay close.” He directed, knowing that she had heard him when she jetted her lower lip out in a pout—but quickly forgot about it as she grabbed some blocks and started trying to put them together.

He went back and sat back down by Gillian, who had her head turned in the other direction; towards the ER doors, specifically. Leaning forward to get a better view, he noticed her expression was thoughtful, but her lips were pulled into a frown.

She whispered, feeling his eyes on her. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“No one said you had to.” The tone in his voice was sincere, but was underlined with caring that he didn’t show a lot of. At least not like this. “Why are you rushing it, love? Just because the fire is burning, doesn’t mean you jump into it. Obviously it is very hard for you to see her again. Sophie was your daughter, and Ava took her from you.”

Her heart jumped as he spoke those words. Often, she hated that he pried, so it wasn’t any surprise that he knew this. So why was she rushing it? Was she afraid that if she didn’t force herself to do this? That the door would close on she and Sophie would be taken away from her again?

Yes. A voice drifted from the back of her mind. It was both surprising—an answer that she already knew.

She gave him a knowing smile, which was followed by a tired sigh. Hardly being able to think, he got the condensed version.”When you said family, you mean: you, Em, Eli, Ria, Loker and Reynolds.” 

“Yeah.” He sat back in his chair, watching as the ER doors swung open—but the doctor that came out, immediately went in another direction to locate a family in the waiting room.

“Cal—where do they think I am?” Inquiring, her question was followed by silence as he was preoccupied with watching a certain nurse, standing behind the nurse’s station. The blonde haired nurse was looking at him, filled with recognition. Gillian was avoiding looking at all.

His voice still sounded distracted, as he turned and answered her a few minutes later. “You’re taking a personal day—which isn’t far off—considering what you’ve been through this week. I hope you don’t consider your couch a bed, because I can lock the door if I have to.” Her eyes narrowed at him. You wouldn’t.

Eyes shifting, he read what she was saying—just by the look on her face. “I would, actually.” He spoke out loud, just as a lawyer in a black suit walked out.

The lawyer had short jet black hair; parted and combed neatly on his head. He had steely blue eyes that popped out from his rather pale skin. They both stood and he introduced himself. “My name is Corbin Grey, Ava’s lawyer. You must be the infamous Gillian Foster that Ava keeps talking about.”  

“Yes.” Gillian shook his hand. “My friend, Cal Lightman.”

“Dr. Lightman.” He shook Cal’s hand as well, before going on. “I’ve heard a lot about you as well. From the news and magazines. Even have your book.” Clearing his throat, Corbin went on. “As you know, I’m here to discuss the well-being of Sophie.” 

Nodding, Gillian looked over at Sophie, who was still happily playing with the blocks. “After much discussing with the social worker and Ava about the placement of Sophie. Know that we are aware that this was a decision that you were unaware about—up until earlier this week, and it is a big decision. We are also aware that you were not notified of the condition of Ava’s cancer, until just today.

Granted under the circumstances, the custody of Sophie will be handed over to you—and this is a decision that hasn’t been taken lightly—if you choose to take her into your care. If you choose not to, we will be forced to place her into the foster care system, upon the fact that Ava no longer has any relatives that could take her daughter, and her father has relinquished all parental rights before taking off last year.”

“Ava said that he had left them last year, but she made no mention that he relinquished his parental rights.” Gillian folded her arms across her chest; not defensively, but where they were standing was just under a draft of cool air.

“Yes. That is something that I’ve talked to Ava a lot, actually. She hired me after her boyfriend had signed all parental rights over to her. Now, technically she doesn’t have any family that she could leave Ava with—“

“Technically, as in she does have family.”Cal piped in, watching Gillian closely. Suddenly, he had the need to feel protective. His left arm, hung by his side just in case. The usual calm and collected, Dr. Gillian Foster—looked like she was about to tip over.

Corbin didn’t as so much as blink as he clarified. “Her mother is an alcoholic, her father died last year. Her sister is into drugs, and her brother is in jail. So she does have family—“

“We get it.” Gillian offered stiffly, holding up her hand. “Can I see Ava?”

Nodding quickly, Corbin added. “I’ll see what I can do. I know the social worker would like to talk to you—and Ava has been asking for you.” He stepped away, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll go tell her you’re coming in.”

Cal put a hand on the small of her back, to let her know that he was there—and to keep her from wavering too much. He wasn’t usually the hug-type, but when it came to his best friend—and everything that she had been through—she looked like she could really use one. So he gathered her into his arms without so much as a word, and held her close.