by Jenni Moen
My heart ached for both of them.
I knew Allie, and I’d witnessed her carefully controlled excitement over the past several weeks. Though she’d never said as much, she had already begun gearing herself up for the challenge ahead. She was a planner. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was already imagining late night feedings and diaper changes. She probably envisioned the two of us pushing a stroller through Central Park. In her head, our new one-day-old family was already a party of three.
That was why her reaction … or lack thereof … worried me.
“Hey,” Lizzie said. “How was the wedding?” Her question was directed at both of us, but it was only Allie that she looked at.
“It was wonderful,” Allie said. “Small, but wonderful.”
“Did you guys have a party afterward? That’s what people do right? They have a … what’s it called?”
“A reception,” Allie answered. “No, we didn’t. But we went out with our friends to celebrate. It was nice.”
“I wish I had been there,” Lizzie said, looking away. The air in the room got very still. “I just meant I wish I could have seen you. I bet you were really pretty.”
“She was,” I said.
“Are you going on a honeymoon?” she asked.
“No,” Allie said. “We’re going to hang around here so we can help you when you get out of here.”
There was no need to correct her. We wouldn’t be going anywhere tomorrow … or I guess today.
“I’m so sorry,” Lizzie said, her voice broken and apologetic.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault, and we weren’t going anywhere anyway.”
Lizzie just nodded in response and played with the frayed edge of the blanket that was pulled up across her lap.
“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Allie asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, I know. I just thought things were going to be different now. I believed in her.” When Lizzie looked up, she looked at me instead of Allie.
What could I tell her to make her feel better? She was just a kid. Should I tell her that my mom had been to rehab no less than eight times and still had relapses … though the last one had been more drama than a relapse. No, there didn’t seem to be much point in telling her that. Besides, according to Marlene, the police had taken Amber into custody. I didn’t know what they were charging her with, but I could think of a few things that might stick. I had a feeling Amber was headed to prison this time rather than rehab. “She’s got bigger problems now, Lizzie, but she’ll turn it around some day.”
Lizzie’s face fell, and she seemed to shrink into the bed. “I’m so sorry, guys,” she began, but couldn’t continue. She covered her face with her hands as the sobs began to wrack her small body.
“Oh, Lizzie, love,” Allie said, reaching for her and wrapping her arms around her. “Don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know but …,” Lizzie said through tears. “I let you down. I’ve been walking around like this for seven months. What for? What was the point of it?”
I thought of what Warren had told me about Joy and leaned down and kissed the top of Lizzie’s head. “It was an accident. Sometimes bad shit happens for no reason at all. And you can’t find meaning in it anymore than you could’ve prevented it.”
Lizzie nodded, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced yet. After what we had heard about the way her mom talked to her, blaming her for everything that went wrong in Amber’s life, convincing Lizzie was going to take some work.
As she began to cry harder again, Allie crawled up on the bed with her and pulled her into her side. “Shhh,” she said. “It’s going to be okay.”
I leaned down beside Allie and whispered in her ear. “I’m going to give you girls some time to talk. I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.”
I left the girls huddled up in a big ball on the small bed. I made my way back down to the first floor where I had seen a coffee stand near the front door. With the largest, blackest cup of coffee I could get, I returned to Lizzie’s floor and collapsed in a chair in the waiting area. Settling in for what I assumed would be a long night ... morning … whatever it was … I realized that I’d been spending way too much time lately in hospitals.
I must’ve dozed off, but woke to Allie sitting down in the chair next to me. She tipped her head over and rested it on my arm. I put an arm around and pulled her closer. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered.
“You seem to be taking this well … too well.”
She chuckled dryly. “You want me to fall apart?”
“No … I just … it’s okay if you’re sad. I’m sad, too.”
“I need to worry about Lizzie. Not be sad.”
“You can do both, you know. You’ve been the one holding everyone together lately. But it’s okay if you need to lose it a little.”
“Okay, I think I will, then,” she said.
I tipped her head up so I could see her face, only to realize that she was already crying. Big, wet, silent tears were running down her face.
“Come here,” I said, pulling her over onto my lap. I cradled her in my arms and held her tight until she cried herself dry.
“Thanks,” she finally said. “I guess I am sad. I keep thinking that I shouldn’t be. Everything has been happening so fast so I can’t believe how much I wanted this. For so long, I told myself not to want the baby because it wasn’t fair to you. I wanted her and then I didn’t and then I did. And then we decided to do it, and I guess I just sort of fell head over heels in love with her … or at least the idea of her.”
“I know. But you know what, I’m head over heels in love with you.”
“I love you, too.” She looked down at my hand, resting on her leg and ran a finger across the shiny new silver band that encircled my left ring finger.
A thought occurred to me.
A thought about the way I’d proposed to her.
“I still would’ve wanted to marry you. You know that, right? The baby had nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah, well, I hope so, because you’re stuck with me now,” she said lightly. However, she fidgeted in my lap, leading me to believe that the thought had occurred to her, too.”
“Listen, Allie. This was no shotgun marriage. I know it’s been a whirlwind, but I’m happy we went ahead and just did it. We did it for us. We didn’t worry about what anyone else would think about it. We didn’t invite anyone who would try to talk us out of it. I think it’s the first thing that we’ve done that’s truly just about us.”
“For me, it was never about the baby,” I finished. “It was about you.”
“And I’m all about you,” she said, looking up. A smile played across her lips.
“Well, today, you can also be about Lizzie. She needs you.”
“Yeah, I guess she does,” she said. “Hey, can I ask you something?” She sounded hesitant, but curious.
“Sure,” I said, patting her leg.
“Did you ever really want it … the baby? I mean, I know you said you did, but it was such a drastic change from how you felt before. I want to know. Did you really want her? It’s okay if you didn’t.”
It was going to be tough for me to answer this one. I gathered my thoughts for a second. “After Joy died, I made up my mind that I would never have kids. Until I went away for college, I’d been the one raising her for the most part. And then I left, and the guilt from leaving her behind was terrible. I didn’t want to ever feel that way again. I didn’t want anyone to depend on me like that again.”
“But while we were apart, someone helped me realize that that was no way to live. And I also realized that I wouldn’t be doing it alone this time. You’d be doing it with me, and then the idea didn’t seem so terrifying. You wanted it, and I want to give you everything your heart desires. So while I didn’t want it the same way you did, I wanted it. I knew it would make you happy, and after a lot of thoug
ht, I realized that it wouldn’t make me unhappy.”
She nodded, and we sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes while she absorbed my brutal honesty.
Finally, I broke the silence. “You know … that baby wasn’t the only child we know who needs a home.”
She pulled back away from me and leveled her eyes on me. “What are you saying, Adam?”
“I’m saying exactly what you think I’m saying. You’re an attorney. She’s got a shitbag for a mom who’s probably going upstate and an invalid grandma who can’t even come get her. Figure out how to make her ours.”
“Are you serious?” she asked. Her expression was a mixture of wonder and disbelief. “Taking on a teenager is a big job.”
“I’m up for it. Are you?”
She looked at me, her eyes still wide, while she mentally rearranged how she’d been looking at the situation. “We’ll have to get a bigger place.”
“I’ve already got Jay checking one out for us.” Her expression morphed into one of shock.
“We’ll need to find her a new school, and it will be expensive.”
“It’s just money. We’ve got plenty. Besides, you’re my six figure bitch.”
“You’re terrible,” she said even though there was a happy glint in her eye. “There will be times when she’s not very much fun. Girls her age are tough.”
“I’ll rule with an iron fist.”
“We’ll have to send her to college. That will be expensive, too, and we’ll only have a few years with her before she’s gone.”
“We’ll be empty nesters by the time you’re 30. Sounds perfect. Are you about done?”
She cocked her head sideways and thought for a second. “Yeah, I think I am.” Tightening her arms around my shoulders, she nestled her head into my neck and sighed contentedly.
This felt right. Completely and absolutely right.
EPILOGUE
We rolled into the driveway on a roar, and Adam cut the engine. After being in that car for the better part of two days, I feared I was going to be deaf for the rest of my life. The car was so loud. And not really a vehicle that you wanted to drive across the country, but we had made it.
Of course, we could’ve flown … and it would’ve been a first for Lizzie … but since she had never been out of the state, Adam thought it was a better idea to show her the country from the backseat of his car. Lizzie set up shop in the cramped quarters with candy, magazines, headphones, and the new iPad that we’d given her for her birthday last month. I wasn’t entirely sure how much of the scenery she actually caught along the way.
“Holy shit. This is where Lulu lives?” she asked, referring to my mother and the house where I had grown up. I turned in my seat to give her a look.
“Lizzie,” Adam said sternly from the driver’s seat.
“What?” she said, taunting him from the tiny backseat. “Do you know how many bad words I’ve heard come out of your mouth during the past two days?”
“Irrelevant,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m the grownup. When you’re 18, we’ll discuss whether you can say ‘shit.’”
“See, you did it again!” she said.
Listening to the two of them banter back and forth was one of my new favorite pasttimes. I looked over at Adam to see the small smirk on his face and was absolutely engulfed by the emotion I felt for him.
The man blew me away.
On a daily basis, he positively and completely blew me away.
I learned from Marlene that he’d contacted her on his own to be screened for the Big Brothers/Big Sisters program. He had done it months ago when Lizzie had gone into foster care the first time. It hadn’t had any bearing on the adoption process since that was through the state government, but it had gone along way with me. He was dedicated to her even before it had occurred to us to adopt her.
Our relationship with her was probably unconventional. We weren’t your typical adoptive parents. She had been too old when we’d taken her in, and I’d been a ‘big sister’ to her for too long. We’d had to be creative in our parenting. Adam had taken on the role of the disciplinarian while I was still more of a friend to her than anything else. Sometimes we crossed over and the boundaries blurred, but the arrangement had worked well for us for the past two months.
Adam was good at playing the bad cop and took his job very seriously. After all of the things that Lizzie had been exposed to in her short life, he felt it best to keep her on a short leash. Not that we really had anything to worry about. Lizzie was a good kid. And since for most of her life no one had really given a damn about her, she tried really hard to please us.
“Lulu,” she screamed again, running up onto the front porch with her arms spread wide.
My usually restrained and very dignified mother bounced on her toes and wrapped Lizzie in a hug. “Maria, she’s here!” she called over her shoulder into the open house.
My mother had taken to grandparenting like a duck to water. She’d already made three trips to New York ‘to get to know her new granddaughter.’ What that really meant was that she made three trips to New York to take Lizzie shopping. Lizzie had become my mom’s personal Barbie doll.
‘Lulu,’ as she had named herself (because ‘grandma’ felt too old), spent an exorbitant amount of money on Lizzie. Though it was ridiculous, I sat back and let it happen. For the first time in her life, Lizzie wasn’t forced to creatively piece together thrift shop finds to make an outfit. I’d taken her shopping a few times over the years, but I realized now that she lived with us that I hadn’t been doing enough. I was content now to let my mom spoil her. It was good for both of them. My mother had never had more fun.
Having joined us on the porch, Maria grabbed each of Lizzie’s hands with one of her own. “Little niña, aren’t you just the most beautiful one?” she asked, spinning Lizzie around so that she could get a good look at her. “Come in. Come in. Ms. Lydia and I have been making cookies. Allie says you like cookies.”
“I love cookies,” Lizzie said, already following her inside.
“Garrett’s coming home early to see you,” my mother said to Lizzie’s retreating back.
My dad had taken a less hands-on approach to grandparenting than my mother had, but he’d been more involved than Lizzie knew. Getting custody of her … or rather officially adopting her … hadn’t been the fight that we were expecting. Amber pled guilty to a child abuse charge. In exchange for the more serious charges being dropped, she’d signed away her parental rights, relieving us of the burden of trying to prove her unfit, not that it would have been a challenge.
Lizzie had once again been made a ward of the state, and we had immediately started the process of adopting her. That was where my father had come in. Somehow, he’d tracked down Lizzie’s dad, who had been missing for most of her life, and my he’d managed to obtain a relinquishment of his rights as well. With both of her parents out of the picture, it had just been a matter of greasing it through family court. My dad had come to the rescue again, pulling strings, calling in favors, and, I feared, lining pockets to get it all done in record time. We were still within the 45-day grace period. Technically, her parents still had 22 days to change their minds, but none of us were concerned. My dad had assured me that her father wasn’t going to be a problem, leading me to believe that he’d probably lined his pocket as well.
“So we’re good then, Lydia?” Adam asked.
“Absolutely,” my mom answered. “You kids go have fun.”
I looked between the two of them. Though I had no idea what they were talking about, they had clearly been conspiring against me. “I know we just got here, but take a short drive with me,” he said, pulling me back toward the car.
I groaned. “My legs hurt, Adam. I need to walk around.”
“We can walk around in a few minutes. We aren’t going very far.”
“Okay,” I said, climbing back into the car. “But make it snappy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered with a smirk. “S
o bossy.”
He started the car, and we rumbled on around the circular drive and onto the street again. For a second, I panicked, thinking that maybe he was taking me to his mom’s house. But he turned in the opposite direction and started weaving his way through the residential neighborhood that no longer felt like my home.
I shouldn’t have worried. To my knowledge, he’d barely spoken to Aileen during the past few months. Though I was pretty sure that he had called her on her birthday, he hadn’t done it in my presence. His feelings about his mom were complicated, but he’d made it clear that she would never interfere in our lives again. He kept his interaction with her to a minimum.
I didn’t realize where he was taking me until we pulled into a parking lot just off of Greenville. “You hungry, babe?” he asked. “’Cause I could really go for some chips and queso.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I said, while opening my car door to get out.
We walked hand in hand through the door of the Goose, and Adam asked for a table for two in the back. After we were seated and the waitress had scurried off to get our drink orders, he reached across the table for my hand. “So here we are … almost 11 years too late,” he said smiling. “I’d hoped that Lizzie’s spring break would match up with St. Patrick’s Day, but no such luck. Unfortunately, I don’t have any control over that fancy new school’s calendar.”
I squeezed his hand. “That’s okay. I bet it was crazy in here last weekend. Besides, I kind of like having you all to myself.”
“I kind of like having you all to myself, too,” he said.
In all truthfulness, we had spent a lot of time together over the past few months. He had found a temporary job working as an intern for a network morning show that filmed in Rockefeller Plaza. His early mornings were busy now, but he was usually finished around three or four in the afternoon. It worked out perfect since he could be around for Lizzie after she got out of school.