“What do you mean she won’t be coming around? Did she give up her parental rights or something? There’s definitely more to that story …” Marlo questions.
“Yes, there is more to the story, but it’s not my story to tell. Bottom line is Adam is a single parent. I hope you guys can respect that answer.” I know I’m being vague, but I simply refuse to break Adam’s trust. He gave me a piece of himself when he told me about Grace, and I won’t give that away.
“Yeah, we get it, Sara. You know I’m just fucking with you. I’m just glad to know that Adam lays it down. If he was a lame lay, then that would just mess with the equilibrium of the universe. You know what I’m sayin’?”
“Yeah, Marlo, I know what you’re saying.” I shake my head and laugh. “There is one thing that has been bugging me, though.”
“Our sweet, little Sara.” Alex cocks her head at Marlo. “You know she can’t jump into this without overanalyzing a little bit. It’s who she is. You’ve got two minutes to obsess, my friend, and then I’m shutting you down. Your time starts … now!”
“Very funny, Alex. Well, Adam has always kept girlfriends or dates away from Lily and Gage, and I totally respect that. What kind of father would he be if he let random women walk in and out of their lives, right? He plans to do the same thing with me, and I totally get it, but if I never see him with his children will I really know him? I mean, those kids are his life. And while it makes sense to not introduce me now, what about later down the road? Will I always be on the sidelines? His dirty little secret hidden in the shadows—”
“Okay, stop right now, before you work yourself into a panic attack, girl!” Marlo throws her hands up in the air and shakes her head at the ceiling like she’s praying for strength. “Enjoy the ride, Sara. Don’t worry where it’s headed this time. You have the uncanny ability to talk yourself out of anything. I seriously doubt that Adam would marry you and make you live in a separate house, okay? But you’ve known each other for a few weeks, so get your head out of a hypothetical future and enjoy the present. Because the present is oh-so-delicious.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. What is wrong with me?” I drop my head in my hands, embarrassed about my little meltdown. Who does this shit? Me, that’s who.
“You’re a planner, babe. Nothin’ wrong with that. Quit beating yourself up.” Alex sits on the arm of the chair I’m sitting in and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “We’re here to remind you to quit analyzing and enjoy life. And I need you two to keep my head out of the clouds sometimes. And Lord knows what Marlo needs. Duct tape for that big mouth would be my best guess.”
“Fuck y’all! I’m fantastic.” Marlo glares at us, looking a little dejected.
“That you are, Marlo. That you are.”
“Nothing More” by Alternate Routes
“I’M SO NERVOUS. I just want everything to be perfect.” I shift nervously from side to side as I wring my hands.
“Sara, nothing about this situation is perfect. I promise you this meeting won’t be either. You’re setting yourself up to be disappointed if perfection is your goal.” Adam squeezes my shoulders as a sign of reassurance.
“Don’t you think she’s been through enough, though? I know it’s unrealistic, but I wish I could erase all the pain that the next few months will bring for Abby.”
Adam shakes his head at me. “It’s sweet that you want to protect her, but you know that’s not what she needs. She needs to feel this in order to heal. As much as it sucks, it’ll make her stronger. All any of us can do is be there to support her and help her cope with her choices.”
Before I can respond, I hear the jingle of the clinic door, and glance over to see a middle-aged couple standing in the lobby in their best Sunday dress. The man looks distinguished, wearing silver wire-rimmed glasses, and the woman appears modestly attractive with blonde hair swept back in a French braid and minimal makeup. Caroline squeezes my shoulder from behind as she makes her way to the front lobby.
“I’ll escort the Broussards back to the meeting room. You wait here for Abby, okay?”
“Sure, Caroline,” I say and plaster on my best smile.
After giving Abby a stack of prospective adoptive parents to wade through, she walked into the clinic with one application in her hand. Tom and Ellie Broussard.
“I want to meet them,” was all she said. Her facial expression gave nothing away. She offered no explanation as to why she chose this particular couple. Caroline and I assumed she would have several adoptive parents that she would be interested in meeting. That’s the norm with most birth mothers. But Abby breaks the mold in so many ways, so I don’t know why I’m surprised.
Once Adam and I are alone, I turn to him with a questioning glance. “They look nice, right? Very … parental?”
“Most parental people I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Does that make you feel better?” Adam chuckles softly, and I give him a stern glare. The door jingles again, saving him from my wrath.
“Saved by the bell, smart ass!” I elbow him in his ribs and take off to greet Abby.
“Remember, perfect is not the goal. Just support her, and you’ll do great,” Adam offers encouragingly as I make my way to the lobby.
“Hey, Sara. Are they here? Did they come?” Abby appears nervous and excited at the same time. While she didn’t dress up, her clothes are neat and pressed, and her hair is swept up in a bun with ringlets falling onto her face and neck. Quite simply, she looks lovely.
“Yes, they’re here. Caroline brought them back to the meeting room, probably to sign some paperwork. We can go back right now and meet them.”
I turn around to lead Abby to the meeting room, but she grabs my arm and pulls me back into the lobby.
“Will you stay with me? I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. Do you think they’ll like me?”
I’m not sure what Abby read in the Broussards’ application, but something obviously struck a nerve with her. It’s evident that their opinion of her matters greatly.
“Caroline and I will be with you the whole time. I’m sure they’re gonna love you, Abby. But the most important thing for you to focus on for this meeting is the Broussards as parents. Are they the adoptive parents you want raising your child? Hopefully, you’ll be closer to answering that question by the end of this meeting. I know you’re nervous, but I promise you, they are just as nervous, if not more so. Okay?” I squeeze Abby’s hand and give her a reassuring smile.
“Okay.”
When Abby and I enter the meeting room, everyone stands and offers the obligatory greetings. The nerves in the room are palpable, and Caroline does her best to ease the tension with benign small talk. The Broussards sit on one side of the table, Abby and I sit on the opposite side, and Caroline is at the helm. Once everyone settles in their seats, Caroline pushes her cat-eye glasses up on her nose, clears her throat, and begins.
“Tom and Ellie, why don’t you tell Abigail a little bit about yourselves? You know, get the ball rolling?” Caroline gives the couple a supportive smile.
Ellie looks expectantly at her husband and then faces Abby. He gives her a small nod, and she makes eye contact with Abby and smiles warmly. “Sure, we’d love to start. Tom and I have been married for twelve years. We’re both in our mid-thirties, and we’ve lived in Providence since we were eighteen years old. I’m originally from Monroe, and Tom is originally from Shreveport. We both attended Northern Louisiana University and fell in love with Providence. Coincidentally, that’s also when we fell in love with each other. Tom is an English professor at the university, and I’m an art teacher at Willow Elementary. I’ve actually worked with Caroline on a few projects throughout the years.”
Abby doesn’t attempt to hide the surprised look that flashes across her face.
“Yes, Abigail, over the years I’ve had the pleasure of working with Ellie. I’ve known Tom and Ellie for many years. I didn’t tell you this beforehand because I didn’t want to influence your decision in any way. T
here are several couples I know in the stack of applications I gave you. Providence is a small town, so that’s inevitable.” While Caroline doesn’t apologize, her tone is sympathetic. There’s a possibility that Abby may feel deceived, but I don’t think that was ever Caroline’s intention.
“It’s not a big deal, I guess. I was just taken off guard.” Abby smiles weakly at Caroline and then faces the Broussards. “I guess it’s my turn, right?”
“Of course, Abigail, please go ahead,” Caroline prompts.
“Well, I’m seventeen years old, and I’ll be eighteen next month. I live at home with my mom. It’s just the two of us. I’ve lived in Providence all my life, and I’ll graduate high school next month. I have pretty good grades, so I’m hoping to attend Northern in the fall. Caroline’s been helping me apply for scholarships and grants to help pay for it. I’m thirty-three weeks pregnant, and it’s a girl. I guess … that’s it.”
“What do you plan to study?” Tom’s voice is soft but strong. I imagine him to be a man who uses words deliberately. Someone who is thoughtful in his questions and responses.
“I’ve always done well in math, and I love science. I would like to major in engineering. Math and science have always made sense to me.”
“In a world of chaos, it’s comforting to know some things are constant and reliable.” Tom smirks knowingly at Abby, and she giggles softly.
“Exactly.” They both shake their heads knowingly at each other. It’s obvious they understand each other without the need for frivolous words.
“Abigail, do you have any questions for Tom and Ellie? Anything that will help you get to know them better?” Caroline prompts.
“I just have one question. Why do you want to adopt my baby, and what does that adoption look like to you?”
I hear the scratch of a chair on the floor and see Tom leaning forward and enclosing Ellie’s hand in his.
“Well, I suppose I’ll take my turn. Abigail, I’m going to give you a little bit more of my personal history so you can understand our intentions. Like Ellie said, I’m originally from Shreveport, and in my early childhood I lived there with my parents. My dad worked a lot and drank more than he worked, so the only communication I really had with him was through his fists. He wasn’t much for talking, and he didn’t discriminate. He didn’t care if it was my mom or me—he just wanted to pound on something. When I was about nine years old, a teacher at my school developed an interest in me and decided to dig a little deeper. I entered foster care that year. I was passed around to a few houses, never really fitting in anywhere. No one took a great interest in the little boy sitting in his room or the public library with his nose stuck in a book all the time. I learned early on that life went much smoother when I kept my mouth shut.”
“Do you ever wish the teacher had kept her nose out of it?” Abby’s voice is timid, as if his answer may hold too much weight for her to bear.
“Never,” Tom’s response is quick and decisive, no room for question. “I don’t know who I would be if I would have stayed in that violent home with my parents, but I’m certain I wouldn’t like him.”
Abby nods knowingly as she holds Tom’s gaze.
“After my fourth foster home in a year, I met Mimi and Pop. They were an older retired couple that had already raised their three sons, and somehow I was lucky enough to be placed with them. They were the parents I was meant to have. They saw something in me I didn’t know was there. When I was twelve years old, they adopted me. Their love changed the course of my life. Mimi and Pop both passed away when I was a junior in college.”
A cloud of silence hovers over the room. We respectfully give Tom a moment to compose himself.
“Ellie mentioned earlier that we met in college, and very much like Mimi and Pop, her love also changed the course of my life. She and her family have taken me in and embraced me as one of their own in a way that I’ll be forever grateful. So you see, I’ve been adopted in one way or another my entire life. So when we were unable to conceive a child of our own, it never even occurred to us to try fertility treatments. We both took it as a sign that we were meant to make our family in a different way. We would choose our family the way that my families have chosen me throughout my life.”
Tom reaches across the table and grabs Abby’s hand, keeping eye contact the entire time.
“You asked what we would want this adoption to look like, and my answer is that we want it to look like a family. A family that would be proud to have you as a member.”
A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek as I watch Tom and Abby smile at each other through watery eyes. Ellie’s hand finds its way to the middle of the table, and the three of them hold hands in silence.
Abby’s soft voice cuts through the silence and tears at my heart.
“My friends call me Abby.”
As we file out of the meeting room, I notice Adam watching me from across the room with a hopeful expression. After all the pleasantries and goodbyes, I make my way over to him, unable to hide the grin on my face.
“Well, how did it go?” He grabs both of my hands and squeezes affectionately.
“Better than I ever could have imagined. Perfect, yes, I said it. Perfect!” I shrug my shoulders and hop enthusiastically from one foot to the other. “I know the important thing is to find Abby’s baby a safe and loving home, but I think Abby may get the family she deserves, too. How great would that be?”
Adam envelops me in a tight hug, and I brush my nose into the base of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent. He pushes away just enough to meet my gaze.
“That sounds just … perfect.” Adam smirks. I’m taken in by the mischievous look in his eyes, and I giggle softly to myself.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had a meeting with a birth mother and adoptive parents go that smoothly. I’m so happy for Abby.”
I turn out of Adam’s embrace and face Caroline. I see the question in her eyes as she studies Adam and me. I realize too late that this public display of affection between us may be considered unprofessional, and I feel a bit of trepidation about Caroline’s reaction. Will she mind that we’re dating? I never considered if there was a fraternizing policy at the clinic.
“I feel the same way, Caroline. Thank you for letting me be a part of the meeting.” I force a smile on my face and do my best to push my anxiety aside for the moment.
“Of course I wanted you there. You’ve developed a special relationship with Abby, and she’s more at ease when you’re around. She trusts you, and let me tell you, that’s no easy feat. This success deserves a celebration. What do you say to a girls’ lunch, Sara? We’ll grab Celia on the way out. Adam’s a big boy, so he can man the fort for a little while.”
“I’d love that,” I tell Caroline, but she doesn’t stay to hear my reply. She’s already across the office looking for Celia. Adam spins me around and holds me firmly by the shoulders.
“So, we kind of just let the cat out of the bag with Caroline. You know she’s like a second mom to me, right? There may be a little interrogation at lunch, you know, about your intentions and what not. Just stick close to Celia; she’ll protect you.”
“You’re fucking with me, right?” I squeak, blush creeping up my neck and onto my face.
“Of course I’m fucking with you … I think.” Adam winces and shrugs his shoulders apologetically.
I’m gonna kill him … that’s if Caroline doesn’t kill me first.
Just Friends is the quintessential ladies luncheon spot in Providence. The restaurant is quaint, with a mismatched array of china, teacups, antique chairs, and local artwork. Each table is adorned with a crystal vase of fresh flowers and hand-embroidered linen napkins. I’m fairly certain any guy with the guts to enter would have to relinquish his man card at the door.
After the waitress delivers our sweet iced teas and takes our orders, Caroline raises her glass and waits for us to do the same.
“I’d like to propose a toast. To successful meetings … and t
o new revelations.” Caroline sets her gaze on me, and I know with certainty that Adam was right. I’m about to be interrogated. Shit. I square my shoulders and quickly decide the best defense is a good offense.
“Caroline, I didn’t think to tell you about Adam and me because it’s so new. It just kind of happened. I’m sorry, but it never occurred to me that it would be a problem with me working at the clinic. In hindsight, I should have checked with you about the policy concerning dating—”
“Oh, please Sara, I’d never try to stop any of you from dating each other. It’s hard enough to find love without people placing rules and restrictions in the way. I care about both of you, and I’m happy if the two of you are happy.”
I breathe a huge sigh of relief, and Celia laughs at my response.
“Caroline is a matchmaker at heart, Sara. I knew she’d be over the moon to hear about the two of you. Quite frankly, I’m glad that my fat’s out of the fire for a little while!”
“Make no mistake, girl, your fat is firmly placed in the fire. This changes nothing. They’ve done the heavy lifting for me already by finding each other. I still have more than enough time to devote to you, my dear.” Caroline smiles lovingly and Celia lowers her head and groans.
“I take it this is an ongoing argument between you two?” I glance back and forth between them for confirmation.
“Celia has decided at the ripe old age of twenty-four to give up on love and live a solitary existence. I, on the other hand, have decided that she is out of her mind.” Caroline exacts her stern gaze at Celia, and even I cringe.
“I have not given up on love, Caroline. I’ve had the love of my life already, just like you. Lucas was it for me. That part of my life is done.”
Hope Over Fear (Over #1) Page 15