Page 89 of Velvet Chains
I shook my head. “That’s not the point. When the divorce is finished, I want you to adopt her legally. File the petition as part of the property settlement.”
He was quiet for a second. Not confused—processing.
“You’re talking about a formal post-marital adoption,” he said slowly. “Under G.L. c. 210?”
I nodded once. That law covered adult and step-parent adoptions in Massachusetts, but post-marital adoption wasn’t common. It meant legally erasing the gap—making Rosie his in every possible way, even after the marriage ended.
No fallback. No ambiguity. Just a new birth certificate with his name on it instead of blank space.
It was as permanent as it got.
“Ruby…that’s serious,” he said. “What the hell is going on?”
Before I could answer, Rosie’s voice rang out across the playground.
“Watch this, Mami! Daddy! Watch!”
We both turned just in time to see her cartwheel across the grass—arms too long for her body, legs flying, the hem of her coat catching the wind like a cape.
She landed in a heap and popped up grinning, triumphant.
“Perfect ten,” Julian called.
“Solid eight,” I teased. “You didn’t stick the landing.”
“Rude!” she shouted, hands on her hips.
She turned back to the jungle gym, already plotting her next acrobatic act. “Wait. Let me try again.”
“It might be easier if you take off your coat, tesoro,” I said.
She shed her coat in the middle of the playground, abandoning it in the mulch. I darted for it, putting it on my lap as I sat next to Julian.
Rosie did another cartwheel, this time, landing a little more gracefully. “Progress,” I said. “Eight point five.”
“Mami! Daddy, tell her!”
“Yeah, that was perfect,” Julian said with a grin. “But your mom knows more about cartwheels than I do. I’m sorry. You need a less biased judge.”
Rosie crossed her arms over her chest. “Like who?”
“I don’t know. What about one of the other kids?” I asked.
Her eyes lit up and she skipped back to the jungle gym. Julian waited until she was halfway up the rope bridge before he spoke again.
“So, post-marital adoption?” Julian said under his breath.
“Yes.”
“You’re already her legal guardian,” he said. “We’ve been operating that way since day one. Why do you suddenly want—”
“Because guardianship isn’t the same as parentage,” I said, turning to look at him. “And I don’t want any ambiguity when the decree is entered. I want her name on your health insurance. I want you on every emergency contact form. I want to know that if something happens to me, there’s no question.”
“Jesus, Ruby.” His voice dropped. “Is this about the DOJ?”
I snapped my head to look at him. “What do you know about the DOJ?”
“Nothing, really. Special counsel named Lucy Darnell reached out to me to ask if you were available and if you had time to talk.I told her she could reach you at your office. My secretary has been screening her calls.”
