He replied: She said you were difficult.
I stared at that sentence for a full ten seconds before typing:
I am acting according to medical advice and protecting a premature infant. If that is difficult for your family, that is not my responsibility.
He didn’t answer.
That evening, he called instead.
“I’m transferring thirty-five hundred a month for now,” he said. “Child support. Supplies. Caregiver hours. I’m also establishing a trust.”
“All right.”
“My assistant will bring paperwork tomorrow for you to sign.”
“No.”
A pause. “No?”
“I’ll confirm receipt of funds in writing. I am not signing anything without legal review.”
“It’s a standard acknowledgment.”
“I don’t care if it’s engraved by the Pope.”
He actually let out a surprised breath that sounded almost like laughter.
Then, immediately, his voice went flat again. “You’re impossible.”
“No. I’m careful.”
He was quiet. Then: “You really think I’m trying to trap you.”
“I think your family has been trying to trap me since noon.”
That ended the call.
The next day the lab results came in.
I picked them up in person.