Don't Go by Lisa Scottoline Page A

the uncle and aunt of the abovementioned minor child.
    Mike wasn’t sure what plenary meant, but it didn’t seem like it mattered, so he read on:
    I, Michael Patrick Scanlon, believe that it is in the best interest of the aforementioned minor child that she remain in the physical and legal custody of her uncle and aunt, the aforementioned Robert and Danielle Voulette, and that they be granted full and plenary powers of temporary guardianship, including but not limited to the following …
    Mike scanned the list, which seemed to cover every conceivable situation:
    In the event of an emergency or nonemergency situation requiring medical treatment, I hereby grant permission for any and all medical and/or dental attention to be administered to the aforementioned minor child.
    In the event of an accidental injury or illness, I hereby grant permission for any and all medical attention to be administered to my minor child.
    This permission includes, but is not limited to, the administration of first aid, ambulance, and the administration of anesthesia and/or surgery under the recommendation of qualified medical personnel …
    Mike read to the next page, under a section that was titled Finances:
    The parties have jointly agreed that such guardianship shall be provided by Robert and Danielle Ridgeway to me, Michael Scanlon, completely gratis and free of charge, and that all reasonable expenses of care of the minor child shall be borne by the guardians, Robert and Danielle Ridgeway. In the event of extraordinary medical, legal, or other expenses relating to her care, the parties agree to discuss reimbursement of same, and will use best efforts to arrive at a mutually agreeable reimbursement and settlement.
    Mike felt amazed by their generosity, but he didn’t expect Bob and Danielle to pay Emily’s bills and would leave a lump sum for them to draw from for the next three months. He knew how to fix it in the contract, because Bob himself had told him when he’d reviewed the partnership agreement for Suburban Foot & Ankle. Mike picked up the pen, drew a line through the section, initialed his change, then read to the bottom:
    This agreement is effective upon signature of all parties, and will extend as long as necessary, beginning on the date of execution.
    He thought that sounded right, and a red flag had been affixed next to his signature line, SIGN HERE . Bob and Danielle had already signed on their signature lines, and he picked up the pen, but paused, feeling strange. He couldn’t shake the sensation he was giving Emily up, and the papers made Chloe’s death so real, even before her wake. He wondered what would happen if he was killed in Afghanistan, then realized this agreement would probably remain in place.
    “Mike?” Danielle called from the kitchen. “Your eggs are ready.”
    “Be right in.” Mike stared at the signature line, holding the pen. He felt the weight of the world, but the opposite was true. If he signed, he was completely unencumbered. He had signed away his child and he had no wife. He didn’t even have a cat anymore. If he died in Afghanistan, it would be as if he didn’t exist at all and never had. Emily wouldn’t remember him, but he hoped they would explain to her who her father was and why he had signed these papers.
    For her.

 
    Chapter Nineteen
    Pewter clouds concealed the sun as Mike cruised down his old street, relieved to see that none of his neighbors was out, undoubtedly because it was twenty degrees. He pulled into the driveway, cut the ignition, and got out of the car. He avoided looking at Chloe’s Beetle, hustled up the porch steps, unlocked the front door, and went inside. His gaze went automatically down the hall to the kitchen, but he caught himself. His pity party was supposed to be over.
    He glanced at the family room, relieved that he hadn’t messed it up. The couch and chairs were a cheerful paisley pattern that Chloe had loved, and they looked good next to an end table