Page 14 of Raising Love
“Not right now,” Ivy said, whipping her head in my direction. “Now is not the time for that shit, Leo.”
“Guardianship is indeed a legal commitment, but not just temporary,” Mr. Grant clarified. “Think of it as permanent—much like parenthood.”
“There goes that parent word again,” Ivy muttered, slumping back into her chair.
“You would be his legal guardians until he reaches adulthood or until the court deems otherwise. Should you choose to accept, I’ll file a petition for guardianship with the family court. This process will officially recognize you as his legal guardians and grant you all parental rights.”
“I’m gonna pass out,” Ivy acknowledged, nodding her head as her hands shook. She lifted them to her head, as if trying to get a grip. “I’m gonna fucking pass out.”
I couldn’t even compose her because my ass was freaking out more than what she was showing. Everything was happening so damn fast. Why would Tyrell not tell me this was what he and Kendra planned in the unlikely event of their passing? Most importantly, why the hell would they leave their baby with Ivy and me of all people?
“There’s no way they would trust us with this.” Ivy shook her head incessantly. “Absolutely no way. I don’t know the first thing about caring for and loving a child, and Leo over here…” She laughed nervously, glancing at me. “Leo.” Ivy started waving her hand in the air and gesturing toward Mr. Grant. “Tell him how horrible we are. Tell him!”
I grimaced. “I wouldn’t go as far as to say horrible.”
Ivy placed her hand at the top of her head, going from sitting back to moving to the edge of her seat again. She never could keep her anxiety concealed.
“Kendra and Tyrell had the utmost confidence you two would manage this responsibility,” Mr. Grant assured.
Ivy and I both focused on him.
He nodded. “It’s a big responsibility. I get it. I have four children of my own, and not one of them was a cakewalk to raise. But Kendra and Tyrell insisted it be the both of you, and they’ve set aside a trust fund for the baby, which you’ll manage for his needs.”
I threw myself against the back of the chair and dropped my head into my hands.
This is not happening right now.
“I’m just not understanding why they wouldn’t choose their family for this,” Ivy expressed. “Why not their parents, who would know exactly what to do here? Isn’t family the only people who could be guardians?”
“Guardianship isn’t limited to family members,” Mr. Grant said. “Friends can be appointed if parents believe they are the best choice. Your friends made this decision with a lot of thought, I assure you. When we drafted their will, they were thoughtful and deliberate about every detail. They spent two days deciding on guardianship. They wanted you two.”
Ivy and I glanced at each other and held our stares.
All the color had drained from Ivy’s russet brown skin. I was pretty sure I looked just as pale.
“They entrusted you with their most precious responsibility, and that decision wasn’t made lightly,” Mr. Grant continued. “And legally, this document I’m holding gives you the authority to act as parents would.”
“Wow,” I exhaled, emptying all the air I had with that word as I dropped my head forward and into my hands.
Ivy let out an audible breath and ran her hand down her face. “What kind of legal steps do we need to take now?”
“What?” I popped my head up out of my hands. “Ivy.”
“What?” She focused on me.
“You can’t be serious,” I said low, even though it didn’t matter who heard us.
“We should at least know how this will all work.” Her chin began to quiver, her eyes filling with tears. “No?”
“Well, first,” Mr. Grant started, waiting for our attention to return to him, “you’ll need to formally accept the guardianship. We can take care of the paperwork today if you’re ready.”
I shut my eyes and held them tightly closed.
My heart was racing so fast at this point—faster than any moment on the court while trying to block a shot. Sometimes the block was successful; other times, a failure. And that was okay. I could learn from the failure and do better in the next game.
But that was a game. This was not.
“Babies are expensive,” Ivy muttered. “I make a good living, but that’s just for me. My apartment is small as hell?—”
