by Nicole Deese
“Not mocking—just admiring your discipline.”
He laughed. “Well, staying up till two and three in the morning every night this week is probably not discipline as much as it’s succumbing to the pressure cooker of panic that I won’t get this storyboard finished in time. I still need to send it all over to Sam for a final test before the presentation.” He lifted his gaze from his screen. “But it was either work at home and not get to see you on New Year’s Eve—which was completely out of the question—or bring my work to you. Sorry I haven’t been the best company today,” he added with the most endearing of smiles.
I hugged a throw pillow to my chest. “You won’t hear me complaining. It’s nice to spend a day together like this—relaxing, even. Also, I can’t wait to hear what happens at that meeting. Brian thinks you’re a shoo-in.” I still couldn’t believe how quickly Brian had set up a meeting with the board of pediatrics, or perhaps I couldn’t quite believe how quickly Joshua had been able to translate Brian’s big-picture vision into a detailed, animated proposal. Whatever the case, the two of them had been on the phone more than Jenna and I had been during the winter break.
“You feel ready to get back to reality on Monday?” he asked.
I blinked, trying to center my brain around the word reality.
“Teaching? Kids? Brighton Elementary?” he prompted teasingly. “Has the extended break made you forget your real life?”
My brain refused to move past the words extended break and real life. Each of them triggered an entirely different meaning that had nothing to do with school and everything to do with a future I’d been trying to avoid. “Oh. Ha. No, I haven’t forgotten, but I won’t pretend the early wake-up calls won’t be brutal.”
“I can relate. If I don’t get to the halfway point by tomorrow afternoon, I’ll likely be heading to bed when you’re getting ready for school next week.”
I rested my head on the back of the sofa. “It’s gonna be weird, going back to school without you there.” And then because I didn’t want to come off as an overly needy female, I added, “Don’t get me wrong, I really am thrilled for your contract with the hospital. It will open up a whole new world for you in consulting, won’t it?”
He reached over, covering my socked foot with his hand and giving it a squeeze. “It’s only a potential contract for now—a lot has to happen for it to move past these initial stages. But yes, it will be an expansion into a whole new territory. That said, it’s not uncommon for something this big to take upwards of a year, with all the trial and error and waiting on the legal teams to sign off on this or that. The timing is rarely ever quick.” He slid me toward him and kissed the top of my head. “But if God does allow this thing to move forward, I’m confident it still won’t top my time with you at Brighton.”
We shared a ridiculously sappy grin, and I wondered, not for the first time, if we were headed in the same direction as those overly mushy couples I’d often accused Brian and Jenna of being.
I snuck a glance at the clock on the bottom of his screen. “You sure you’re still up for going to Jenna and Brian’s tonight? Because if you’d rather just stay here and work—”
He silenced me with a kiss. “I have five more days to work on this before my deadline. We’re going over there. Brian owes me another game of Risk.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jenna and I are probably better off in another room, watching a movie. I doubt either of you would notice we were missing.” The last time we played, the night they’d come over to . . . to visit after my time off from work, their strategy planning had been all-consuming.
After setting his laptop on the coffee table, he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into his side. “I’d notice.” He rested his chin on top of my head. “Believe me, I notice every time you’re not around. That’s part of how I knew.”
“Knew what?” I coiled one of the strings from the neck of his hoodie around my finger.
“That you were it for me.” He shifted and smoothed down my hair. “When you didn’t come to school in the days following all that happened with . . .” When he didn’t continue the statement, the breath I’d been holding released. “I thought I was gonna lose my mind if I didn’t see you, Lauren. I’ve never felt like that before, about anything or anyone.”
His thudding heartbeat pressed against my ear, steady and secure. “I feel that way about you, too.”
He tilted my face up to his, kissing me with a tenderness that begged for tears. Because I’d fallen in love with him. There was no other way to spin it. No other way to write this story. I was in love with Joshua Avery, and everything in me wanted that to be enough.
Our evening with the Rosewoods was going exactly as I’d predicted: Brian and Joshua were huddled over the official Risk handbook, researching obscure plays, while Jenna and I shared several how-do-we-get-out-of-this glances over the top of their heads.
She lightly cleared her throat and then mouthed, “Cookies?”
Careful not to draw attention to myself, I slid my chair out from the table and slinked away to the kitchen. Jenna opened a narrow cupboard near her spice cabinet, rose up on her tippy-toes, and reached way into the back to pull out a box of Samoa Girl Scout cookies.
My eyes rounded at the sight of her holding a treat made with actual cane sugar.
“What is even happening right now? I figured we were coming in here for one of your sweetened-with-date-juice energy balls,” I teased.
She wiggled her eyebrows conspiratorially. “Nope. Technically it’s not New Year’s yet, so I’m still eating whatever I want. Brian’s mom actually gave me two boxes of these in my stocking. I’m pretty sure she thinks supplying me with Girl Scout cookies means I owe her a grandchild now, though.” The minute her joke was out, she slapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, Lauren. That was insensitive—”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sure she does want grandkids. And you and Brian will make some beautiful babies together someday.”
“Don’t say that too loudly,” she rebuked with a smile. “We’re not quite ready to be parents yet. We still have some traveling we want to do, and Brian’s plotted out this whole financial graph thing he wants us to follow. All I know is that we’re currently on the green dot and we have to get to the blue before any mini Rosewoods can be made.”
“Ha, sure,” I said, though I hadn’t a clue what wanting to wait for children felt like. I’d dreamed of becoming a mother since before I graduated from high school.
Jenna hopped up on the counter, prying open the bottom of the cookie box. “So what about . . .” She ticked her head toward the room where the guys were still nose-deep in the Risk rule book. “What does he think about adopting?”
The phrasing of her question threw me for a minute. Not What does Joshua think about you adopting—but adopting. Period. As in a process that might involve him. I knew Joshua wanted to be a father. He’d told me as much, and I also knew he’d been ultra-supportive of my plans to bring Noah home, but . . . but I hadn’t asked him about his thoughts regarding adoption directly. It had become one of the many hot topics I’d avoided when we talked about the future.
“What?” she asked, pulling out a cookie and holding it between her fingers. “What’s that face . . . you have talked with him about it, right?”
My spastic breathing was probably Morse code for I’m a coward. I’m a coward. I’m a coward. “Not specifically, no.”
“Not specifically?” Jenna’s head jerked back. “What do you mean not specifically? Lauren, it’s all you’ve talked about with me for the last two years. How have you not mentioned it to each other? I mean—” she paused to release a deep breath—“I understand that this last month was tough, but your dossier is still over there . . . just waiting for you to say you’re ready to be matched again. What has Stacey said about all that? How long can you be ‘on hold’ with the agency before your documentation expires?”
Truth? I had no idea. I knew there were expiration dates, ye
s, but if I asked my agency about the specifics, then I’d have concrete answers. And if I had concrete answers, then I would have to make concrete decisions, and that seemed far too . . . concrete.
“I haven’t had much contact with Stacey.” Or any contact since asking to be placed on hold. I reached for the box of cookies even though I had zero appetite in light of this conversation. My stomach always seemed to knot when I thought about the future these days.
“So . . . you’re not talking to your agency, either?” Jenna’s restraint to keep her inside voice intact was impressive. “Help me understand this, because I’m super confused right now.”
That made two of us. “I’m on hold. Till after the New Year.”
“Well that’s tomorrow.” She lowered her voice again, nearly hissing. “When you said things had progressed between Joshua and you, I assumed that meant vital conversations were happening about the future. It’s not like he doesn’t know you’re a half step away from becoming a mother. I’d think he’d at least ask some questions about what—”
“Don’t put this on him.” Defensiveness crept up inside me. “He’s always willing to talk about anything I’m willing to talk about.”
“So it’s you who’s shut him out, then.” Her on-target chastisement hit the mark.
“It’s not exactly a first-week-of-dating kind of conversation. It’s hard and complicated.” Words I didn’t want anywhere near my relationship with him.
She shook her head, staring down at the stylish holes in the knees of her jeans. “I guess I just really hoped the two of you had discovered a loophole together. Like . . . like sometime during the holiday break you called the agency and figured out how you could be in a healthy romantic relationship while still moving forward with your plan to adopt from China. I just never would have guessed . . .” She shook her head, and I braced for her next words. “That you would give up on something you’ve been so passionate about for so long. Something you’re only a few steps away from now.”
“I never said I was giving up. I simply haven’t made a decision yet.” And yet even as I spoke it, my heart bucked in rebuke.
Joshua’s deep laugh sailed through the dining room and into the kitchen, where Jenna’s gaze remained trained on me.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t get to look at me like that. Don’t pretend you weren’t the one who pushed me toward him every chance you got or that you didn’t purposefully arrange for me to spend Christmas with his entire family before you flew off to Tahoe.”
“I did, yes, but my hope was that you’d get to have both your dreams come true, Lauren—the adopted child you’ve been praying for as a single woman and an awesome guy who wants to be a part of your future.”
I caught myself a half second before I rolled my eyes at her naïveté. “Well, it doesn’t work that way.” At least, not as things were now. If I was willing to wait a full two years after the day I married—if I married—then I could reapply to adopt from China, which then would mean starting the long wait to be matched to a child all over again. So sure, could I potentially have both dreams come true at once? Yes. In a minimum of four-plus years.
All the information on my application was legally binding, an oath designed to give a vulnerable child the most stable home life possible. If I continued with a match, I’d have to do so as a single woman.
Jenna jammed the cookie from her hand back inside the crinkly plastic tray and shoved the package closed. Apparently, this conversation had soured Jenna’s sweet tooth, as well.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I think you’re wrong for not at least involving him in this conversation—hard as it may be. If he’s going to be a part of your future, then you have to discuss the whole picture with him.”
I knew she was right, especially after what Joshua had disclosed to me about his last relationship. But how could I talk to him when I was still so confused myself?
Jenna’s eyes turned glassy. “I may not be the most faithful churchgoer around, but I saw your face when you got that first picture of Noah. . . .” Her voice hitched half an octave. “And I told Brian after you left that night that watching you walk this journey over the past two years has changed something in me. I’ve always believed God was real, but I . . .” As she searched for the right words, the faint knock in my chest strengthened. “I hadn’t understood how much He cared about all the personal details in my life until I saw you open that little boy’s file. It was like all your struggle and sacrifice to get to that point was nothing in comparison to the reward of your faith in Him. It made me believe that He might have a plan for my life, too. That maybe the very things I’ve been so afraid to say yes to all these years are the very things He wants me to trust Him with.”
At her vulnerability, I swallowed down the bitter truth that rose like bile. A truth I hadn’t trusted myself to speak aloud to any person. But here it was: That little boy hadn’t been God’s plan for me. He’d been a mistake, a neon sign stating that all my struggle and sacrifice had been in vain. That my deepest desires hadn’t mattered much after all.
“I love you, Lauren.” Jenna slipped off the counter and wrapped me in a hug I was too detached to feel. “And that won’t change, no matter what you decide to do.”
“Ah . . . there you two are,” Brian said, walking into the kitchen and swiping the box of Girl Scout cookies off the counter. “I don’t want to interrupt whatever girl-power conversation is happening in here, but in the dining room I’m dominating poor Joshua, and he could use a boost of moral support.”
“Afraid it’s the other way around, bro,” Joshua said as Jenna released me from her embrace.
I met his eyes for the briefest of moments to see a flicker of worry cross his features.
“Unhand my cookies or you will lose far more than the territory you’ve conquered on a board game.” Jenna jabbed a pointed finger at Brian.
He dropped the box to the counter immediately, raising his palms in surrender. “Man. Where can a guy find a good snack around here?”
“There’s some guacamole in the fridge and your favorite chips in the pantry. But if you touch my cookies again, you’ll be the one on the surgeon’s table.”
Brian kissed her on the cheek before rummaging through the fridge.
Jenna looked from me to Joshua. “I’ll grab the chips and bring them to the dining room.”
“Thanks,” Brian said as he swung the fridge door closed. “Oh, babe, you’ll have to hear Joshua’s latest ideas on the app he’s been working on for the hospital. I think the board’s gonna be blown away by the new options he’s come up with. I don’t know of anything like it.”
“Cool, yeah. I want to hear all about it,” Jenna said, prodding Brian out of their kitchen and glancing back at me with a look that said talk to him.
As if we could have a big-picture conversation in the middle of my best friend’s kitchen on New Year’s Eve. Sure, I hadn’t been totally open with him, but this wasn’t the time or place for that to change.
“Everything good?” Joshua asked, coming to stand in front of me.
“Of course, we just had a lot to catch up on.”
He nodded but in no way looked convinced. “You know you can talk to me, too, right? About anything.” He scanned my face. “You’re a tricky balance for me sometimes. I’m torn between thinking I need to give you space to process and wanting to be in your head with you. I know I came into your life in the middle of a big journey, but I’m here now, and I don’t plan on being anywhere else.”
Guilt chomped on the soft spot in my conscience, and once again, I felt an almost reckless desire to pull him close and hold on to him with every morsel of strength I possessed. I snaked my arms around his waist. “And I don’t want you to be anywhere else.”
We’d managed to finish over half a game of Risk without Brian threatening to overthrow Joshua and his strategies from the Rosewood Kingdom. They did, however, start a Risk winner’s graph. My hope
of transitioning to simpler—and quicker—games like Yahtzee or UNO had become a moot point.
The purse I’d left hanging on the back of my chair vibrated during yet another lengthy discussion, this time involving an illegal play by Jenna. I reached into the inside pocket and glanced at the voicemail notification waiting there for me: Stacey—Small Wonders.
What? Why was she calling me on New Year’s Eve?
Somehow, I managed to slip the ticking time bomb back into my purse for the remainder of the game, assuring myself every few minutes that my curiosity could wait, that Stacey’s message was probably just a routine check-up since we hadn’t spoken in a while. But as soon as Jenna tuned the television to the ball drop at Times Square, I snuck away to the restroom so I could listen in private. No small irony that the last time I’d received a voicemail from Stacey I was also standing in a friend’s bathroom.
I locked the door, swiped through my recent call list, and tapped on the voicemail play icon. Holding the phone to my ear, I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw began to ache.
“Lauren, hey . . . it’s Stacey at Small Wonders. I’ve been wanting to check up on you and see how your Christmas was and how the last few weeks have been.”
Okay. It’s just a check-in. Nothing more.
“And I know you asked to be placed on hold until after New Year’s, but a really special file came across my desk this morning, and I believe you could be her perfect match. I’d love to send her information over to you. I’m leaving here in the next hour, but I have everything uploaded and ready to send to you. We’re closed tomorrow for the holiday, so I’ll leave my personal cell number for you—just call or shoot me a text if you’re open to reviewing it, and I’ll send it right over.” Stacey paused. “She’s a little older than the age window you originally provided us, but I’m telling you, this is a very special little girl who deserves a special mama. You’ll have forty-eight hours to place her file on hold if you’re interested in pursuing her. Happy New Year, Lauren. I hope to talk to you soon.”