Adoption
The day after my dad's amazing dinner, he woke me up really early and sat on the end of my bed in his sweatpants and t-shirt. "Katherine, we need to talk," he said. I was a little bit scared by his serious tone, wondering if I'd done something wrong.
He took my hand and held it. "Harold wants to formally adopt you."
"What?" I asked, my eyes instantly stinging with tears.
Dad just looked at me for a minute. "I—thought you'd be happy. You like Harold."
"But you're my dad!" I said. The words were still new, and they felt a little bit strange, but I said them with all the conviction I could muster. "Do you wish you hadn't asked me to live with you?" I bit my lip anxiously.
"No—no, it's not that," said Dad, smiling. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you'd be confused. You'll still live with me. It's just that I have some things to do in the next few days that may be dangerous. I'm not going to lie to you. This is to protect you in case anything happens to me, now or later. If I—if you ever needed someone, Harold would take care of you like you're his daughter."
"Oh," I said.
"Just think about it."
"That's ok," I said. "I want to do it."
Dad leaned over and kissed my forehead. "That's my girl. I was hoping you'd say yes. The reason I woke you up early is because Harold has a judge who owes him a favor. He's willing to put us on the docket this morning if we get there by nine. We're meeting Harold for breakfast at seven-thirty to give him our answer.
"Ok," I said, looking over and reading 6:45 on the clock.
After Dad left the room, I looked through Harold's presents and tried to come up with something appropriate for court. I ended up picking a green dress, brown clogs, and a violet scarf that I tied around my neck.
When I came into the living room, I found my dad in his usual suit. He was wearing a violet necktie. "Nice scarf," he said.
"Nice tie," I replied. He smiled, and we left the apartment.
We found Harold in a booth at his favorite diner. He was also dressed in a black suit, with a red tie and pocket square—a little bit loud for him, I thought. He smiled when he saw us, but I caught a hint of anxiety in his face.
"Tell Harold what you've decided," said Dad as we approached the booth.
"Um," I said, suddenly feeling shy about telling Mr. H. "I—want to," I finished.
Harold stood up and came over to me. "I want you to know that I'm going to mean everything I say to that judge," he said. I did something then that I'd only done once before. I kissed Harold on the cheek, and I enjoyed how red he turned.
"You sure about this, Finch?" Dad teased. I ordered a huge breakfast with waffles, bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. I ate almost every bite.