Page 58 of Call You Mine
“As you know, when I first came here to discuss next steps, your mom was very unreceptive,” Patricia explains. “She was asked to complete a substance use assessment and told that she would be subject to random alcohol testing, and she refused. I mentioned it to her again today, and I was met with the same response from her.”
My mom woke up in the midst of me dragging the trash bags she had sitting in the living room, but luckily, Patricia got here before my mom could register what was happening. She was able to keep her settled.
I was worried she’d be belligerent or completely inconsolable—but she didn’t even remember what she was doing before she passed out. She just thought Patricia was there for another one of her surprise visits. She didn’t even register that I had been there—that’s how drunk she is.
“Yeah, I can imagine she wouldn’t take that news all that well.”
Patricia lets out a dry chuckle, one that sounds more exasperated than humored, as she drops her hand from my shoulder. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Did she even remember our conversation from this morning?” I ask Patricia.
Patricia shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
We’re both silent, our gazes on the ground in front of us.
“So, what happens now?” I ask after a minute or two.
Patricia sighs. “Today, I offered her some information about treatment referrals, counseling, and parenting services, assuming that she would want Georgina back. But, it sounds like evaluating your sister’s placement with you and having it become more long-term will be where we move next.”
“Wait, why? Not that I’m not happy to hear that Georgie staying with me doesn’t have to be temporary, but what changed?” I ask.
“While our investigation has shown us that your mom isn’t capable of being your sister’s primary guardian, her unwillingness to seek any help or treatment is concerning. And today, she voiced that she isn’t interested in ‘pleading her case’, to use her words.”
“She doesn’t want to plead her case?” Anger clouds my vision. My fingers, numb from the cold, cramp with how clenched my fists are. With everything that’s happened, I shouldn’t be surprised, but hearing it is more jarring than I anticipated. “You’re saying she didn’t eventryto convince you to give her back Georgie?”
“I’m afraid not,” Patricia answers. “She actually asked to give up her parental rights.”
My mind begins to spin.
I never wanted this to turn into a nasty custody battle—I didn’t want to put Georgie through more than she’s already had to deal with. But I didn’t think it was all going to be so…Easy.
I tap each of my fingers to my thumb, the repetition of the movement helping me keep my mind focused on the conversation at hand.
I should’ve known better.
I’m pissed and frustrated, but I’m also just so sad.
My mom didn’t even fight for Georgie.
I clear my throat, trying to keep a handle on my emotions, on my compulsions, on anything that isn’t Georgie. “So howdo we move forward? With the adoption? I want to get the process going as soon as possible.”
“Well, when a parent voluntarily terminates their parental rights while a child is in temporary, court-ordered custody with an older sibling, the legal relationship is permanently severed, opening the door for legal adoption.”
“So, she just signs a paper, and then all her ties to Georgie are cut?”
“In theory, yes. If and when your mother signs the voluntary relinquishment, she waives her rights as Georgie’s mother.”
“And you think she’s really going to do it?”
“Do you?” Patricia prompts.
The words sit between us as I think about her question for a moment—I was always so thankful to whatever higher power is out there that Georgie grew up with the mother I wish my other sisters and I had. She had the mother I always wanted and the father I never knew could exist for the first twelve years of her life.Thatmother would never give up Georgie, would never do anything to hurt her.
But she’s not that mother anymore.
She’s the oneIgrew up with.
“Yes,” I answer.
