The Christmas Hope(51)

His questions were beginning to annoy me and I gave Roy a frustrated look. “It means they couldn’t take her,” I said, this time with more emphasis.

“Did you ask if any of them were Emily’s legal guardian, or did they think that you were calling to ask them to take on their legal guardian role and they were declining?”

I shot up in my seat. I finally knew what Roy was doing. I had been asking the same questions for years. How could I have forgotten to ask about legal guardians this time? I scrambled for the phone and picked up the receiver but realized I had to look up Greta’s number first. I dug through my purse for my Palm Pilot. “Roy, what have I done? How could I forget to ask such a basic question?” I asked, emptying the contents of my purse out on my desk. “How could I forget? What does this mean?” He pressed my hand to stop me from moving.

“It means that if one of those relatives can’t be the legal guardian that maybe they could name you and Mark as legal guardians until you find a permanent home for her.” He smiled and I fell back into my seat.

“How did you know?”

“Do you think I’m blind? Anybody can see that that little girl has you all tied up in knots. You’re not doing your job right, you’re decorating Christmas trees, and you’re dumping your purse out like a crazy person. I’m not the brightest guy in the world but after seventeen years I do notice some things.”

I picked up the phone and dialed Greta’s number. “Greta! I’m so glad you’re home. Do you know if Tracy made anyone in her family the legal guardian of Emily?”

“I don’t know. Why?” There was no time to explain everything.

“Do you know if Tracy had a lawyer at any time or if she had any important paperwork that she kept somewhere?”

“Let me think.” She was silent and I waved my hand in the air toward Roy as if trying to hurry her. “Hal!” She was calling Hal. This could take all day. “Hal,” she said, louder. “Did Tracy keep important paperwork anywhere? Did Tracy keep … hold on,” she said into the phone. She covered the phone and yelled. I heard mumbling and the gurgling sound phones make when someone covers the receiver. Out of nerves I started to bounce my leg up and down. What in the world was taking so long? “He’s got a whole box here filled with papers we found the day we cleaned Tracy’s house. He didn’t know if it was important or not so he brought it home.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” I said to Greta. “I’m coming right over.” I pushed everything back into my purse and ran down the hall toward the elevator. I turned to look at Roy. “Are you coming or not?” He grabbed his coat and ran after me. I thought I was going to explode. I had to call Mark. I picked up my cell phone but decided to wait. I couldn’t get him excited, too. Not yet.

On the way to Greta’s I told Roy everything that had happened. I told him the story of the watch and the note and he smiled ear to ear, listening. I rambled on and on about talking with Mark and listening to Sean’s last voice message. Roy leaned over to look at the speedometer several times and checked his seat belt. I was driving as fast as I was talking. I ran through Greta’s front door without knocking. The box was sitting on the kitchen table. I lifted the lid and it was chaos inside. Nothing was in files or in order. “Okay,” I said, dumping it onto the table. “Here we go. Look for anything that resembles a will or papers with a law firm listed at the top of the page.” Greta and Hal both reached for their glasses.

“Gas bill, electric bill, MasterCard,” I said, throwing the papers to the floor.

“Here’s something,” Hal said. I jumped. “No, never mind. It’s just a receipt from the guy who sold her her car.” He studied the paper. “She never should have paid that much for that car. It wasn’t worth that. Look at this, Greta.”

“Hal,” I said. “Please keep looking.”

He threw the paper down and picked up another stack. One sheet after another fell to the floor. There were fewer and fewer pieces on the table. Disappointment was setting in. I looked at the remainder of papers in Hal’s, Greta’s and Roy’s hands and knew they were only old bills. Nothing was here. Why did I let myself get so excited? I held a handful of papers in front of me and slumped into a kitchen chair. I handed them to Roy and he patted my shoulder, throwing the papers onto the table. Greta and Hal were quiet as they stared at them. Those papers were our last hope. I grabbed them and ran out the door.





Roy knocked on the door. No answer. He looked at the number on the paper and then to the door again, 4A. It was the right door. He balanced a cup of coffee in his hand and knocked louder. A man in his late twenties opened the door a crack and peered out at us. He was squinting from the light in the hallway. “Are you Randall Weist?” Roy asked.