PART 18 – The Last Ordinary Week

The agency called on Friday afternoon. Melissa’s voice was measured, but Claire heard a note of relief beneath it.

“We’ve completed the remaining consultations,” Melissa said. “The team has reached a recommendation. We’d like to meet with you and James on Monday to discuss it and explain the transition plan.”

Claire gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. “Are you able to tell me the recommendation now?”

“I can tell you that the team is recommending a gradual move to Rebecca’s home, subject to the final legal review. We want to discuss the reasons and answer your questions before anything changes.”

Claire closed her eyes. She had known this was possible. She had even told herself she would cooperate if the agency believed it was best. But hearing the recommendation made the possibility feel immediate.

“Does that mean Lily will leave us next week?”

“Not immediately. The transition would take place over several weeks. We’ll go through the schedule on Monday.”

After the call, Claire stood in the kitchen without moving. The refrigerator hummed. A spoon rested in the sink. Somewhere upstairs, Noah was singing to himself.

James came in from the garage and found her staring at the counter.

“They made a recommendation,” she said.

He stopped. “What is it?”

“They think Lily should move to Rebecca’s home.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he set his keys down and pulled out a chair.

“Are they sure?”

“They believe it’s the best option. There’s a legal review, but they want to start planning.”

James sat with his elbows on the table. Claire watched him struggle to arrange his feelings into something he could say.

“I thought we might have more time,” he finally said.

“So did I.”

He looked toward the stairs. “We have to tell the boys.”

Claire nodded. She wanted to wait until Monday, until they had the full plan. But the boys had been listening for clues for weeks. Another vague answer might only increase their anxiety.

That evening, after dinner, Claire and James gathered the children in the living room. Lily was asleep in her bassinet. Ethan sat on the couch beside Ben. Noah curled up with a blanket, sensing the seriousness before anyone spoke.

“The agency has made a recommendation,” James began. “They think Lily should live with Rebecca, Anna’s sister.”

Noah sat upright. “Why?”

“Because Rebecca is part of Lily’s family,” Claire said. “She can give Lily a home where she’ll grow up knowing her mother’s relatives.”

“But we’re taking care of her,” Ben said.

“We are,” James replied. “And we’ve done our best to make her feel safe.”

Ethan stared at the carpet. “So she’s leaving.”

“Not tomorrow,” Claire said. “The move would happen gradually, and we’ll learn more about the schedule on Monday.”

Noah’s face crumpled. “I don’t want her to go.”

Claire reached for him. He climbed into her lap, pressing his face against her shoulder.

“I know, sweetheart.”

“Can’t we tell them no?”

James knelt in front of him. “We can share our feelings, and we can ask questions. But the agency has to make decisions based on what they believe is safest for Lily.”

Ethan spoke without looking up. “Does Lily know?”

“She’s too little to understand,” Claire said. “But we’ll help her through every change.”

Ben rubbed his eyes. “Will she remember us?”

Claire felt the question like a hand closing around her chest. “She may not remember these days the way you do. But the care we give her still matters. It becomes part of how she learns the world is safe.”

Ethan shook his head. “That doesn’t feel like enough.”

“No,” Claire said quietly. “It doesn’t always feel like enough.”

They stayed together for a long time. The boys asked questions, some practical and some impossible. Would Lily keep the blanket they had chosen? Could they visit her? Would Rebecca send pictures? Would Lily still come to their house for birthdays?

Claire and James answered what they knew and admitted what they did not. They promised to ask about future contact, but they did not promise visits that had not been approved.

After the boys went upstairs, Claire found James sitting beside Lily’s bassinet. He was watching the baby sleep, his hands resting on his knees.

“She’s been here long enough that I can’t remember the house without her,” he said.

Claire sat beside him. “I know.”

“Do you think we should challenge the recommendation?”

She took a breath. It was the question she had been avoiding.

“Do you believe Rebecca is unsafe?”

“No.”

“Do you think she can care for Lily?”

“Yes.”

“Then what would we be challenging?”

James looked at her. “The fact that we want her.”

Claire nodded. “That’s real. But it may not be enough.”

He lowered his head. “I hate that.”

“So do I.”

On Monday, they returned to the agency. Melissa explained the recommendation in detail. Rebecca’s home had been assessed as safe and stable. She had a close connection to Anna, a support network nearby, and a willingness to preserve Lily’s relationship with her biological father as appropriate. The agency believed placement with Rebecca would offer Lily a lasting connection to her maternal family.

Claire listened carefully, asking about each part of the transition. The plan called for short visits at Rebecca’s home, then longer daytime visits, followed by an overnight stay once Lily was comfortable and the team agreed it was appropriate. Claire and James would provide a written account of Lily’s routines, feeding preferences, sleep patterns, and health information.

“Can we attend the first few visits?” James asked.

“Yes,” Melissa said. “We’ll coordinate that. We also want to discuss what ongoing contact might look like after the move. Rebecca has expressed openness to regular updates and visits, depending on how Lily adjusts and what the final plan allows.”

Claire felt a cautious thread of hope. It was not a promise that Lily would remain part of their daily life. But it meant the agency recognized the importance of the bond they had formed.

“What about the boys?” she asked. “They’re attached to her.”

“We can include them in a child-centered way,” Melissa replied. “They may participate in some visits if everyone agrees it would help Lily and the children. We’ll avoid making them feel responsible for the transition.”

Daniel handed them a schedule of proposed dates. The first visit at Rebecca’s home would take place the following Saturday.

Claire studied the page. The dates seemed too close together. She had imagined a slower process, though she knew the agency had already planned for a gradual transition.

“Can we have a few days between visits?” she asked. “I want to make sure Lily has time to settle after each one.”

Melissa agreed to review the timing. The team wanted the process to move steadily, but they did not want to overwhelm the baby.

After the meeting, Rebecca approached them in the hallway. She looked relieved and nervous at once.

“I know this is hard,” she said. “I don’t expect you to be happy about it.”

Claire nodded. “We want Lily to be safe with you.”

“She will be.”

“I believe you.”

Rebecca’s eyes filled. She reached for Claire’s hand, then seemed uncertain whether the gesture was welcome. Claire took it.

“Can we talk about how to keep her routines consistent?” Claire asked.

“Absolutely.”

They spent the next twenty minutes discussing practical details: Lily’s favorite bottle, the lullaby James hummed, the blanket she reached for when tired, and the signs she made before crying. Rebecca wrote everything down in a small notebook.

Claire watched her carefully. Rebecca was not simply waiting for Lily to arrive. She was preparing to understand the child who would be coming into her home.

That evening, Claire began making a list of Lily’s routines. She wrote down feeding times, nap patterns, the names of the pediatric clinic and pharmacy, and the small habits that might seem unimportant to someone who had not spent nights learning them.

James helped. He added the way Lily settled when someone walked slowly around the living room and how she disliked having her hands covered during naps.

The list grew to several pages. Claire placed it in a folder with medical documents and a few photographs.

When she finished, she found herself staring at the blank space beneath the last line. She wanted to write something that could not be measured in ounces or hours.

Finally, she wrote: She is loved. Please tell her that whenever she needs to hear it.

James read the sentence and touched the paper lightly.

“That’s the part they need to know,” he said.

Later, Claire carried Lily upstairs. She changed her into pajamas and held her against her shoulder while the baby grew drowsy. Claire hummed the tune James used, softly enough that the sound barely reached the hallway.

Lily’s breathing slowed. Her hand rested against Claire’s collarbone.

Claire knew this might be one of the last ordinary nights before the transition began. She tried not to turn the moment into a farewell. Lily was still here. She was warm and sleepy and entirely unaware of the meeting, the recommendation, and the dates on the schedule.

Claire kissed her forehead.

“Tomorrow we’ll take another step,” she whispered. “And we’ll make sure you’re cared for.”

She laid Lily down gently and stayed beside the bassinet until the baby settled.

Downstairs, the boys were arguing over a board game. James called up that he needed help finding the missing pieces. Claire smiled despite herself and went to join them.

For a little while, the house sounded exactly as it always had.

Click here to continue reading: PART 19: The First Goodbye