ANNIE

17 ☼ You Make Me Happy

A N N E T T E

The moment Beckham announced the arrival of the social worker the atmosphere in the mansion went from casual and lighthearted to stiff and uncomfortable.  Mom gave me a reassuring smile and encouraged me to get up from my school work to join her at the main doors. Taking a deep breath, I did as I was asked and followed loosely behind the woman. I took a half step behind her right before Beckham opened the door. I surely hoped that it wasn't Mrs. Stewart again.

Upon first glance, I breathed a sigh of relief that the man looked just as I would have expected. He was dressed down in some khaki slacks and navy sweater over a buttoned shirt with a name badge clipped to his collar and a large bag in his hand. The hand that wasn't holding tightly onto the case was being held out to my mom. "Hi there, you must be Aquela Kenslee. I'm Marcel Reyes from the New York Department of Family and Children's Services."

Accepting the hand being held out to her, mom immediately switched into her business persona, turning towards me with the intention of introducing me. Only the man cut her off before she could get the words out.  "Nice to meet you. This is-"

"-Annette Castellanos," the man finished for her as he glanced down at his paperwork before looking past me to lay eyes on granny, who was standing further into the foyer.  "...and are you Rhea Castellanos?"

Taking a few steps forward, granny offered her own hand to the man. "Yes, it's nice to meet you, Mr. Reyes."

The very first thing I noticed about Mr. Reyes was that he seemed to be a no-nonsense kind of guy.  He didn't seem interested in polite remarks and hadn't even really acknowledged me at all, outside of making it clear that he knew my name.  In fact, he'd jumped right into business the second he'd confirmed everyone's identities.

"Alright, well how about we get started here. Do you have all the paperwork that was sent over to you completed, Ms. Kenslee?" Mr. Reyes asked as he looked through what appeared to be some sort of checklist that he'd pulled from his bag.  Then upon taking the items mom had collected for him, he looked towards granny, who also seemed to have her paperwork ready.  "...and you Ms. Castellanos? ...Perfect.  We can do the interview or the home inspection first.  Which do you prefer?" the man asked no one in particular, though mom seemed to have taken control of the situation.

"Why don't we take a seat and talk first. Can I offer you something to drink?" she asked politely as she gestured towards the large couches and chairs of the sitting room.

Once mom, granny, and I had all sat down along the couch, with me in the middle, Mr. Reyes sat in a chair cornered to us and was already pulling out a pen and several sheets of paper. "I'm fine, thank you. Now, as you have no doubt been informed, I'm going to be asking you all several questions regarding your relationship."

"Of course," mom said with a warm smile.  "Ask away."

The man seemed to be ready to get down to business and turned towards granny, pen in hand ready to make notes. "Ms. Castellanos, who initiated the idea of a second parent adoption?"

"No one initiated, so to speak. We discussed options, leaving things as they were, guardianship and adoption, and then allowed Annéta to have the final say. She chose adoption," she answered without hesitation.

The man then flickered his eyes over towards me, who had yet to say one word since his arrival. "Is that right, Annette?" he asked quickly as his pen continued to scratch across the paper. 

"Mm-hmm. Yes, sir," I readily replied, but the man didn't acknowledge me outside of a small nod of his head, and for a moment I thought I wasn't going to be asked anything else. Then the social worker looked up from his paper and I could feel my heart rate quicken.  I just hoped that whatever the man was about to ask would be simple.

"Can you tell me how you and Ms. Kenslee met?"

Despite the fact that the question wasn't a hard one at all, I stumbled. Everything I wanted was riding on this interview and I suddenly forgot how to speak. Mom must have noticed because she reached her hand over and patted my knee, whispering a quiet, 'calm down, hun. You're alright.' and that seemed to be enough for me as I took in a sharp breath and began answering.