Chapter 5 - Unraveling the Threads
By midnight, the spare bedroom on the second floor—which had sat empty since Grandma Evelyn passed away three years ago—had been transformed.
Sheryl had stripped away the heavy floral quilt, replaced the sheets with crisp white cotton, and set up a portable bassinet borrowed from a neighbor three doors down who still kept baby gear in her garage "just in case."
Chloe sat on the edge of the mattress, looking around the room as if she expected it to turn into smoke. Lily was nursing softly, her tiny fingers curled into a fist against Chloe’s sweater.
Sheryl stood in the doorway with a mug of warm chamomile tea.
"You can stay here as long as you need to, Chloe," Sheryl said gently. "Nobody is calling the authorities until we have a lawyer look at your guardianship status. We’re going to make sure you and Lily are safe."
"I don't have any money to pay you back," Chloe whispered, her voice cracking. "And Fern... Fern shouldn't have stolen from her dad. He looked so mad. I was so scared he was going to hit her."
"Brian doesn't hit," Sheryl said with firm reassurance, though she knew the old version of him might have yelled loud enough to break glass. "And as for the money? We'll handle your dad, Chloe. He’s already feeling like an idiot for yelling about tires when there were people freezing two blocks from his truck."
Downstairs, the front door opened and closed quietly.
Sheryl walked down the stairs to find Brian sitting at the kitchen table with a legal pad and a pen, surrounded by old utility bills and a calculator. He looked up as she entered, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses.
"I called Jim Miller," Brian said quietly.
"Jim? The defense attorney from your bowling league?"
"He handles family law pro bono on the side through his church," Brian said, tapping his pen against the table. "I told him the situation without using names. He said if Chloe’s uncle threw her out and has no legal guardianship documentation filed with the state, we can petition for emergency temporary foster placement by Monday morning. That way, she’s legally under our roof, nobody can take the baby, and the truancy board can't slap her with abandonment charges."
Sheryl stared at her ex-husband. Sometimes, beneath the stubborn pride and the endless arguments over money, the man she had married thirty years ago still lived.
"That's actually... brilliant, Brian."
"Don't sound so surprised," he grunted, though a faint hint of color touched his cheeks. "I'm not completely useless."
"Never said you were." She sat down opposite him, resting her chin on her hands. "So, what about the $340?"
Brian paused, his pen hovering over the paper. He looked toward the ceiling, where the faint sound of a baby cooing drifted through the floorboards.
"Consider it an investment," he said dryly. "Though I still need those tires before the first snow."
"I'll help you pay for them," Sheryl said. "Out of my savings."
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"We'll split it," Brian replied instantly, the old habit of financial negotiation flaring up for a fraction of a second before he caught himself and smiled. "Deal?"
"Deal."
