Celeste returned the following morning carrying more paperwork and less optimism.
I could tell before she sat down.
Tony could too.
He stood near the kitchen counter instead of joining us at the table.
“What happened?”
“I spoke with the clerk and reviewed the local requirements.”
“And?”
“We can file.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Celeste removed her glasses.
“No.”
Tony’s jaw tightened.
“I asked whether we can get this done.”
“And I’m telling you the honest answer. We can try to expedite the petition. The circumstances justify asking. But nobody can guarantee when a judge will hear it.”
“How long?”
“Possibly days. Possibly longer.”
“Longer than what?”
Celeste looked at him.
She did not need to answer.
Longer than Lily had.
Tony turned toward the sink.
I knew he was angry because he became unnaturally still.
Celeste continued.
“There are also questions the court may want addressed properly. Nobody is accusing you of anything. But adoption changes legal parentage. Judges do not treat it as symbolic paperwork.”
“It isn’t symbolic to me.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Tony.”
He turned.
Celeste did not retreat.
“I have represented families for twenty-six years. I know that law and love do not always move at the same speed. I also know rushing badly can create problems rather than solve them.”
Tony’s hands opened and closed.
“What problems?”
“Suppose Lily becomes medically unstable while we’re dragging her to appointments, interviews, or a hearing because you need a judge to validate something she already knows.”
That stopped him.
Celeste leaned forward.
“What does Lily need most?”
Tony looked toward the hallway.
“To be comfortable.”
“And?”
“To be home.”
“And?”
He did not answer.
I did.
“Us.”
Celeste nodded.
“We file if that is what all of you want. But you do not turn Lily’s remaining time into a legal campaign.”
Tony sat down.
The anger drained out of him, leaving something worse.
Helplessness.
He hated helplessness.
“Then what good am I?”
I stared at him.
Celeste did too.
“What did you say?”
Tony looked embarrassed.
“Nothing.”
“No. Say it again.”
He shook his head.
I reached across the table.
“What good am I?” I repeated.
His eyes met mine.
“That’s what you think?”
“No.”
“It sounded like it.”
“I mean legally.”
“That isn’t what you said.”
Tony pulled his hand away and stood.
“I need air.”
He went outside.
Celeste looked at me.
“Does he always do that?”
“Try to turn love into a task he can complete?”
“Yes.”
“Pretty much.”
She nodded as if that explained several things.
We completed the medical documents first.
The adoption petition could still be prepared.
Nothing prevented us from trying.
But Celeste made me promise we would stop the process the moment it became a burden to Lily.
I agreed.
Tony eventually came back.
He apologized.
Not for being upset.
For directing it at Celeste.
She accepted.
Then she explained the options again.
This time he listened.
When Lily woke, Celeste spoke with her.
“There’s a chance the court won’t finish the adoption quickly.”
Lily frowned.
“Why?”
“Courts have rules.”
“Can’t they break them?”
“Usually people become very unhappy when courts start breaking rules.”
Lily considered that.
“Can they hurry?”
“We’re asking.”
“What if they don’t?”
Celeste glanced at Tony.
“That’s something your family should talk about.”
Lily looked directly at him.
“You’ll still be Dad.”
Tony’s mouth tightened.
“Yes.”
“Then why are you upset?”
“Because I wanted to make it official.”
“It is official.”
“Not legally.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Adults really like paper.”
Celeste laughed.
Tony did not.
Lily noticed.
She patted the bed beside her.
“Come here.”
He sat.
She took his hand.
“Did you teach me to ride a bike?”
“Yes.”
“Did you take me to school?”
“Yes.”
“Did you stay at the hospital when Mom went home to shower?”
“Yes.”
“Did you throw up when I threw up?”
Tony looked offended.
“That happened once.”
“Twice.”
“The second time was cafeteria food.”
“It was me.”
“Fine.”
She squeezed his hand.
“Did you take me to the ocean?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop being weird.”
Tony laughed despite himself.
His eyes filled immediately afterward.
Lily looked at Celeste.
“See?”
“I see.”
After Celeste left, Tony received a call from work.
He stepped into the kitchen.
I could hear only his side.
“No.”
Pause.
“I don’t know when.”
Pause.
“Then use my vacation first.”
Another pause.
“I understand.”
He returned ten minutes later.
“What happened?”
“I’m taking leave.”
“For how long?”
“As long as we need.”
“What about money?”
He looked at me.
“The savings.”
There was no hesitation now.
No separate plan.
No secret solution.
“Our savings,” I corrected.
“Our savings.”
Diane’s eighteen thousand remained untouched for the moment.
I had not decided whether I could accept it.
But knowing it existed changed the calculation.
That afternoon Erica visited.
She brought soup and did not mention the land.
Diane came an hour later.
The two women had never met.
The introduction was strange enough that even Lily found it entertaining.
“This is Aunt Erica,” she told Diane.
Then to Erica: “This is Adam’s mom who disappeared.”
I closed my eyes.
Diane nodded.
“Accurate.”
Erica looked startled.
Lily continued.
“Everybody is trying to behave now.”
Tony whispered, “She has become management.”
Lily heard him.
“I’ve always been management.”
For almost an hour, our living room held people who would never have chosen one another.
Erica showed Diane photographs of Frank.
Diane showed Lily an old picture of Adam at twelve.
Tony made coffee.
I watched.
No one competed.
That mattered.
Near sunset, Lily became tired.
Everyone left except Tony and me.
He carried her to bed.
When he returned, he found me holding the adoption petition.
“We should file it,” I said.
He looked surprised.
“I thought you were worried.”
“I am.”
“Then why?”
“Because she wants it.”
Tony sat beside me.
“But Celeste is right. We don’t chase it at the cost of her time.”
“No.”
“No unnecessary appointments.”
“No.”
“No dragging her anywhere because we need a photograph of a judge smiling.”
His mouth twitched.
“Agreed.”
“We file. Then we live.”
Tony took the petition.
For once, he did not immediately reach for a pen.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
The next morning Celeste filed it.
Then we waited.
Waiting was familiar.
Cancer had taught us waiting rooms, lab results, scans, insurance approvals, medication authorizations.
This wait felt different.
Lily did not seem particularly concerned.
She kept working on Dad Paper.
By Friday, she had decorated the edges with stars.
“What does it say?” Tony asked.
“Stop asking.”
“I’m curious.”
“You’re annoying.”
“That’s legally part of being a father.”
“Then you don’t need court.”
He had no answer to that.
That afternoon Celeste called.
No hearing date yet.
The clerk had marked the petition urgent.
That was all.
Tony thanked her.
He put the phone down carefully.
I waited for disappointment.
Instead he went to Lily’s room.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Being Dad.”
He spent the next hour watching a terrible animated movie with her.
He did not check email.
He did not call the courthouse.
He did not search legal websites.
He simply sat beside his daughter while she criticized the plot.
Later, Lily fell asleep with her head against him.
Tony remained still long after the movie ended.
I stood in the doorway.
He whispered, “I kept thinking the adoption would prove something.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Erica?”
“Maybe.”
“The hospital?”
“Maybe.”
“Adam?”
His eyes shifted toward me.
“Maybe.”
I sat beside him.
“You don’t have to defeat Adam to be Lily’s father.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Tony looked at Lily.
“I think I’m learning.”
The phone rang.
We both froze.
Celeste.
Tony answered.
He listened.
His expression changed.
“What?”
I stood.
He turned toward me.
“The judge reviewed the emergency request.”
My heart jumped.
“When?”
“Monday morning.”
Tony looked at Lily.
Today was Friday.
Monday suddenly felt impossibly far away.
“What does Lily have to do?”
Tony listened.
Then his face tightened.
“Understood.”
He ended the call.
“What?”
“The judge wants to speak with her if she’s well enough.”
I looked at Lily sleeping against his chest.
Three days.
We had been given a court date.
What nobody could promise was whether Lily’s body would give us Monday.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: With Monday Suddenly Too Far Away, Lily Wrote Her Own Certificate and Made Everyone Witness the Father She Had Already Chosen
A Hotel Envelope Revealed What Tony Had Sold in Secret to Give Our Daughter One Last Beautiful Memory
Part 7 of 16
