Destinee Holland - Lecture Seven

07.  Lecture Topic | Managing Unforeseen Circumstances

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Thursday and Friday passed without anything catastrophic happening—which felt like an accomplishment after the first half of my week.

I made it to Professional Responsibilities on time Thursday morning, took plenty of notes during Professor Halpern’s lecture on client confidentiality, and made it through another shift at Caruso’s without tripping over my shoes too many times.

Suri got on the bus on time both mornings. I also managed to grocery shop and pick up chocolate chip waffles on Thursday, too, so Friday’s breakfast was a lot quicker.

Friday night, after Suri went to bed, I opened my laptop at the kitchen table and finished the written argument for Professor Kallvik’s class.

Or, I mostly revised what I had, hearing her voice so prominently in my head—

If your argument is identical to the one you walked into this room with, then you've either learned nothing, or you're too attached to being right.

I changed one sentence.

Then another.

Then I read the entire thing again.

Jesus.

Professor Kallvik wasn’t even here, and somehow she was still making me second-guess myself.

Eventually, I forced myself to hit submit.

Friday night. Three days early.

There.

One thing in my life was officially ahead of schedule.

Saturday wasn’t as chaotic. I spent my morning doing laundry and then cleaning up the house. I wiped down surfaces, vacuumed, mopped, and even dusted the bookcase behind the stair nook.    

Suri was busy coloring—then she followed me around asking me various what-ifs, until soon, I had to drop her off at June and Nisha’s so I could head to work.

Caruso’s was packed from lunch until close, and by the end of my shift, I’d started mentally adding up my tips before customers even left the table. Forty from table fourteen. Twenty-two from table seven. Another thirty from the couple who stayed long enough to see the lunch menu switch over to dinner.

It was money for groceries, gas, and the electric bill.

And whatever my Honda might need since the engine still sounds a little off when I start it.

By the time Sunday came around, I was more than happy to spend an entire evening nowhere near Harvard or Caruso’s.

I’d only worked the afternoon shift, which meant I was home early enough to actually enjoy the rest of my Sunday. As usual, we planned to head over to June and Nisha’s for dinner.

I didn’t bother getting ready fully. I just pulled on an old Harvard quarter-zip with a pair of black leggings. Then I picked out a princess Belle sweatshirt and pink striped leggings for Suri to wear, quickly pulling her hair into a ponytail like mine.

Before we left, I decided to briefly check Canvas for any assignments—and somehow within ten minutes, the house had gone completely quiet.

With a six-year-old, that’s never a good sign.

"Suri?" I called, closing my laptop as I glanced around.

Silence.

That’s not good.

I walked out of the kitchen in search of her, but she wasn't in the living room or the stair nook, where she likes to hide. Her bedroom was empty too. Then I noticed the door at the end of the hallway was open.

Anjali and Laurence's room.

I usually kept it closed to preserve whatever life was left in there.

Their bed was still made with the gray bedding Anjali had exchanged because the first set was apparently “the wrong gray.” A black-and-white portrait hung above it, with Anjali laughing at Laurence while he smiled up at Suri sitting on his shoulders.

Laurence’s nightstand still held three thick paperbacks, the top one with a gas station receipt tucked between the pages as a bookmark.

On Anjali’s side was a yellow legal pad, her slanted handwriting still covering the top page.

Coffee, eggs (the ORGANIC ones), call Navi re: Thursday.

I’d never been able to throw it away.

The only real addition to the room was the plastic bins of Christmas decorations stacked near the large bay window overlooking the front yard, mostly because the attic stairs scared me.

Everything else stayed where it had always been. Anjali’s perfume tray was still on the dresser beside Laurence’s watch case. Even her slippers were still at the end of the bed, right beneath Suri’s feet as she sat there kicking them back and forth.

"Hi," she said, like this was a totally normal place to find her.

"Hi.” I slowly sat on the edge of the bed. "What're you doing?" I asked softly.

"Sitting,” she stated simply.

I nodded once, determining that was a simple enough answer. I didn’t want to push her to tell me anything if she didn’t want to.

It was quiet for a brief moment as Suri stared at her feet.

One second passed.

Then another.

"Navi,” Suri suddenly turned to me.

I looked over at her, noticing her brows furrowed in an adorable way.

“Was I in here a lot?” she asked, her green eyes holding mine.

I drew in a deep breath, forcing a smile. “All the time,” I whispered. “Your mommy wouldn’t let you sleep in your own bed if she knew it was going to storm. She didn’t want you to get scared.”

My smile felt a little heavier at the memories of them. That same tightness also grew in my chest.

“I used to do my homework on that rug, too,” I said, motioning to the cream rug beneath the bed. "Your mom would fold your clothes and read me her work stuff out loud, and you'd fall asleep every time. She said it was the most boring thing and that's why it worked."

Suri was silent for a moment.

Then she pursed her lips and said, "I don't remember a lot of it."

I could hear it in her voice. How disappointed she seemed by that.  

"That's okay," I assured her in a whisper. "You were really little when it happened."

She frowned, now looking down at her feet again. "But I wasn't a baby baby.”

She was right. She was four years old when we lost them, which was old enough for some of the memories of them to stick slightly.

"You're right," I decided to say, wrapping my arm around her. "But that's just how memory works sometimes, Sur, even when we're a little older than a baby,” I tried my best to explain. “But it’s not your fault, and it doesn't mean any of it didn't happen. Or that they didn't love you like crazy."

Suri nodded but remained silent again, and the tightness in my chest managed to grow.

Maybe it was the familiar smell of their room. Or seeing the pictures on the dresser. Pictures of me and Anjali, Laurence holding Suri when she was a newborn, their wedding pictures. There was even one with me, Anjali, and our mom.

“We can come in here more, you know,” I suddenly said, realizing we never really came in here unless I was cleaning. “If you want to.”

Suri glanced up immediately. “Even if I just wanna sit?”

“Especially if you want to sit,” I assured her with a smile, gently squeezing her closer. “Although next time, maybe tell me where you're going first so I don't think you ran away, please?”

Suri nodded, and I naturally glanced down when my phone buzzed in my pocket, causing me to reach for it.

I clicked on the recent text from June, unlocking my phone.

│June: Roast is done!

"Okay," I said, standing up from the bed. "Dinner’s ready. Let’s head over.”

Suri didn’t hesitate to slide off the bed, clearly feeling a lot better after our conversation, which made me feel a little better too.   

Before we left for June and Nisha’s, I decided to check the mail, especially with all the bills I knew were waiting for me.

I quickly stepped out into the cool air while Suri finished getting her shoes on, walking past the driveway toward the mailbox.

Most of the stack inside was the usual. A pizza delivery flyer, something from my car insurance company, the electric bill, another bill from Harvard, an envelope addressed to me that looked like it involved the house, and one thicker white envelope with a law firm’s name printed in the corner.

The last one made my brows furrow, already tearing the corner to open it—

“Navi!”

I glanced over, noticing Suri in the open doorway. She had successfully gotten both sneakers on, although the tongue of one was folded underneath the laces.

“Coming!” I yelled as I tucked everything beneath my arm and headed back over to her.

I briefly set the mail on the entryway table beside the handmade ceramic dish, determining it would have to wait until later.

I leaned down and fixed the tongue of Suri’s sneaker before she could complain about it feeling weird. Then I grabbed my keys and stepped outside for the second time.

Once the front door was locked, we headed over, passing the patch of grass and driveway. The side door was left unlocked, and the light was already on for us even if the sun was just now setting.

The kitchen smelled like pot roast the second we stepped inside, and I immediately noticed Knox leaning against the island, stealing green beans straight out of the serving dish.

Suri kicked off her sneakers in the mudroom and made a beeline for Nisha by the kitchen table, who was already holding her arms out for her.

“Hi, stalker,” Knox said as soon as he noticed us walk in.

I gave him a blank look, easily remembering one of the most embarrassing moments of my life in Professor Kallvik’s office.

“Cut it out, Knoxious,” I mumbled, lightly nudging his arm.

“What?” Knox smiled in response, nudging me back. “I was just saying hi.”

"Knox," Nisha said from the table. "Leave her alone."

"Stop teasing her, sugar," June added as she stood by the stove, a smile suddenly growing on her lips. "What is he talking about?"

"Nothing," I quickly said, glaring at Knox before he could answer them.  

Knox laughed through his nose. “Yeah, nothing," he agreed with me.

And the second June turned back to the stove, he mimed walking face-first into a door.

I smoothly reached over and threw a green bean at him.

Suri gasped by Nisha’s side. "Navi! We don't throw food,” she said, which was probably something I had told her before.

That, or playing with her food.

"Yeah, Nav," Knox joked. "We don't throw food."

I rolled my eyes at that and walked over to June, wanting to help her transfer all of the food to the table. Suri had already started helping Nisha set out all of the napkins and silverware. Knox also grabbed a few glasses.

Kennedy was supposed to be joining us later since she had to finish up at the ER, so we all went ahead and got seated, passing around the various dishes.

June had slow-roasted pot roast with carrots all day, while Nisha made mashed potatoes from scratch. There were seasoned green beans too.

I helped make Suri’s plate while she went on about how excited she was for school. Nisha got up midway to write Early Dismissal on the calendar on their fridge, in the column that had been Suri’s for years. That led us to going over the schedule for Suri this week, which was mostly the same aside from her getting out early that one day. June also insisted that they take care of Suri one morning for me so I could go straight to class.

I agreed after they all tried to convince me to take the extra help. Even Suri managed to chime in.

Towards the end of dinner, the side door creaked open, and Kennedy walked in still in her blue scrubs. She slipped off her OnClouds in the mudroom and fixed her curly hair falling out of its clip.

June had already reached for the empty plate, making it for her daughter before she had a chance. Meanwhile, Kennedy plopped down in the empty chair beside Knox with a sigh, tucking a few curls behind her ears.

I was a little less keen on discussing Suri’s schedule with her here. Mostly because of the conversation we had nights ago, which involved her disapproval of this new schedule.

So I smoothly switched the topic by asking about her shift instead, and Suri ended up showing Kennedy one of her loose teeth for her to inspect, even if she’s very much not a dentist.

Later, while I rinsed off my plate at the sink, Kennedy came up beside me with a stack of Tupperware with leftovers. June was busy washing the other dishes, Nisha was clearing the table, and Suri was in the living room with Knox testing out another game.

“I’m sorry about the other night.”

Kennedy’s words were softened, stepping off to the side with me as I set the Tupperware on the slim table near the mudroom.  

“It’s fine. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t already thought about,” I assured her.  

“No, but I was harsh. I just had a long shift, Nav, and I’m worried. It’s all so much for you, and for Sur,” Kennedy whispered, her green eyes not wavering from mine. “It was out of love, that’s all.”

Yeah, you’ve said that before.

“I understand,” I decided to say instead.

Kennedy was silent for a moment, her green eyes trailing my face until suddenly—

She lifted her arms and pulled me into a hug.  

It caught me off guard at first. Kennedy isn’t really the type of person to show affection. There have only been a few instances I’ve had with her.

“Look at our girls. Making up,” I heard June say.

Kennedy pulled away at that, glancing over at her mom with a narrowed look. “Don’t make it a big deal.”

Nisha laughed as she carried a few glasses to the sink. “My dear, a hug from you is always a big deal,” she determined, earning an eye roll from her daughter.

Then Kennedy faced me again, briefly squeezing me one more time before pulling away fully.

That was it.

Nothing else was said about the other night, Kennedy’s apology, or the hug. We all just went back to what we were doing before.

For me, that was getting Suri home since it was already past eight. I had so much to prepare for tomorrow.

But Suri was still testing Knox’s game, so it took another ten minutes to actually get her out the door.

By the time we made it across the yard, inside the house, and upstairs, she’d gone from arguing that she wasn't tired to barely keeping her eyes open, so I had to keep her bath on the shorter side.

Once she was changed into fresh pajamas, with her teeth brushed and her hair braided for tomorrow, I tucked her into bed.

And I swear she fell asleep within five minutes. I pulled the quilt higher over her body and then stood, already thinking about everything I had to do.

I had some leftover laundry to finish, then I needed to prepare the three-minute oral argument Professor Kallvik wanted us ready to give in class tomorrow. Professor Halpern had also posted a supplemental case on Canvas for Professional Responsibilities that I wanted to read over.

I switched off Suri’s lamp, leaving the star projector on before I stepped into the hallway and closed the door only partially behind me.

Then I headed downstairs, deciding to fold the rest of the laundry first. My sister had designed the laundry room intentionally, so there was a wood countertop to fold everything on, making it a lot easier for me.

Once I finished in there, I carried the basket of folded laundry upstairs as quietly as I could and shoved everything into the right drawers. I’d washed all of my nicer stuff yesterday, so this load was mostly pajamas, T-shirts, leggings, and some socks.

Next up was Suri’s lunch for tomorrow. I decided to switch things up this week and made her a turkey sandwich instead of her usual PB&J, then threw in a bag of Lay’s Baked chips, a mandarin fruit cup, and an applesauce pouch.

I briefly checked her book bag too, making sure all of her homework was done, and she didn’t have anything for me to look at.

My own schoolwork was my next focus, but then I noticed the stack of mail on the counter.

Oh right.

The same ball of dread grew in my lower stomach as I walked over to the mail, but I couldn’t ignore opening it all. That was the worst part about it. I had to be responsible and deal with it a few times every month.

I grabbed the stack and carried it to the dining nook, sliding onto the wooden bench with the mocha brown cushion Anjali had picked out herself.

The electric bill turned out to be first, which wasn’t terrible. It was the usual amount, so that felt decent.

I set it over to the left, then reached for another.

My car insurance notice was next, but it was only confirmation that my automatic payment had gone through. Same thing with my Harvard student loans, which were well over eighty grand.

Good. Two bills already paid.

The envelope involving the house turned out to be a tax statement I already expected but hoped got lost on its way to me. Another monthly payment toward the estate taxes I still owed.

The original balance had been well into the six figures, and with interest piling on, paying it off anytime soon felt nearly impossible.

But that’s what happens when you inherit a house like this. My sister didn’t just have money because she was a lawyer. Her husband came from money himself, with a pretty successful career as an architect on top of it.

This house alone was worth well over a million dollars. Not just because of the location, but because of everything Anjali and Laurence had put into renovating it.

And maybe my sister would’ve advised me to just give it all up.

As a lawyer, she definitely would’ve. And logically, I agreed.

But then I remembered the walls they painted themselves. My mom setting foot in this house for the first time with the proudest smile on her face. The bassinet Suri slept in as a baby that was still folded up in the attic. Cooking with my sister late at night, or trying my first sip of alcohol in this very house—then my first beer with Laurence.

I had my first day of high school here, then college, all of Suri’s firsts—

And, god.

I just couldn’t do it.

I suddenly reached for the white envelope, noticing the law firm’s name printed across the top left corner.

Brenner & Cole LLPBoston

It was already slightly torn from attempting to open it earlier.

I slid my finger underneath the flap and tore it open completely, sliding out the several pages folded inside. 

The first page had my name at the top.

Ms. Navira Rao.

Suri's name was below it.

My brows furrowed at that.

And then I read the first paragraph. One that identified the firm as counsel for Harlan and Meredith Corbett.

The familiar last name made my stomach physically sink, reading over their names one more time.  

Harlan and Meredith.

Laurence’s parents.

Suri’s grandparents.

My dark eyes trailed along the paper, reading more despite the lump slowly growing in my throat.

There were concerns regarding Suri’s long-term welfare and stability, followed by their clients’ intention to seek my removal as Suri’s guardian and petition for one of them to be appointed in my place.

My eyes paused on that, looking back to the beginning of the paragraph to read it again.

Then once more.

My removal as Suri’s guardian.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the paper.

“No,” I whispered as I continued reading.

More frantically now.

It outlined their relationship to Suri, despite not even meeting her once. Also, their interest in providing a stable home, and a request that any further communication regarding the matter be directed appropriately once I retained counsel.

Once I retained counsel.

My eyes froze on that, and I dropped the thick stack of papers on the table, burying my face in my hands when tears burned in my eyes.

I’ve done everything right. I-I make sure Suri’s fed, she’s doing great in school, and maybe-it’s probably because I work too much?

No, but I haven’t done anything wrong. Why are they doing this to us?

“Everything works out,” I breathed, sucking in a breath. “It does. It’s going to work out.”

My words were barely audible, and all I could see was Anjali. I could see her face and how disappointed she would be.

And Suri. Suddenly, I could see them taking her—and then what? Would I ever see her again?

They hated Anjali, and I know they hate me too, and maybe that’s why they’re doing this. They never cared about Suri before. They had disowned their own son for marrying my sister. They-why are they doing this?

They didn’t even bother to call me. They never asked to see Suri or asked how she’s doing. They just hired an attorney and decided to take her from me.

Anjali named me as her guardian. I’m supposed to take care of her—and is that why they’re doing this?

“It works out. It all works out,” I repeated twice, but suddenly lawyers and the fees attached popped into my mind—

And they’re going to have a good lawyer. They might have a team of them, and I’m going to lose—

“No,” I breathed. “No. It works out. I can do this. I’ll win. I can win—” I dropped my hands from my face. “Anjali, why?”

My words were broken and nearly pleading, as if she would magically show up here and give me the solution to all of this.

I suddenly glanced toward the shiny refrigerator, blurred by the tears in my eyes.

Suri's drawing from school was still stuck to the front with a cinnamon roll clay magnet my sister had made years ago.

Two uneven stick people stood beneath a giant yellow sun.

One was small with yellow hair; the other was tall with darker hair.

ME + NAVI

I quickly looked away, staring at all the scattered papers and torn envelopes on the table in front of me. Then the papers challenging my guardianship.

How will I tell June and Nisha?

Or Knox?

God, Kennedy might even think it’s best.

She’ll probably ask me how I expect to juggle law school, working, Suri, and a guardianship case. And all of the bills that come with all of it and—

I don’t have an answer. I don’t know what I plan to do or if this will actually work out like I always say.  

Not if I lose custody of Suri. I lose everything if I lose her.

I closed my eyes, drawing in a careful breath as I used my sleeves to wipe away my tears.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

My inhales and exhales echoed in my ears, trying my best to calm myself down again.

“I won’t let them take her,” I determined, nodding at least five times. “That’s what matters. I can fight this.”

I barely believed my own words, but it was all I had. I need to keep being positive, despite how hard it feels right now.

Negativity won’t help this. I need to be determined, and I especially need to be strong for Suri.

I can do this.

I will do this.

A deep sigh spilled from my lips as I slid out of the nook, walking toward the front door where my leather tote was.

I needed my laptop. I had to start looking for an affordable but effective lawyer tonight, especially if they were already making moves.

I have to be prepared if I plan on winning this.

Then I’ll skim over the assignment for Advanced Litigation tomorrow. The supplemental case for Professional Responsibilities would have to wait another day, I guess.

I slid back into the nook, setting my heavy tote bag down on the table with a thump. My laptop was the first thing I reached for, quickly logging in and searching for guardianship lawyers in Boston.

One week back in law school, and somehow I already had my own case. Great.