“And what’s that?” Mia said, sitting back down. “What are the expansion plans?”
“Well, the property that she currently owns is at maximum, in terms of what can be gotten out of it,” Reena explained. “I mean, it’s a massive house and she’s renovated it to basically be several individual apartments for families. She’s done a good job, but the fact is that she’s dealing with the reality of square footage and property lines. She literally can’t add any more rooms to the building. The space is tapped out… but every week, she gets calls from counsellors and cops, begging for her to take in more abused women and kids. So she needs to find the space somehow, from somewhere.”
The women nodded.
“So she’s got a two-pronged plan,” Reena said. “First, she and her husband want to buy a whole new property together, and set up a second free-standing safe house.”
“Wow,” Maggie breathed. “These two sound amazing.”
“They really are,” Reena agreed. “I talked to him a bit as he walked me to and from the safe house to the car, and he totally supports her work.”
“Good man,” Katie said.
“Great man,” Reena corrected her. “Though Mitch didn’t really warm to him much, I must admit.”
“No?” Mia asked, holding back a laugh as she imagined Mitch’s scowl. “Not a fan?”
“Nope.” Reena grinned herself. “Anyway, the second part of this woman’s plan is to expand on the existing settlement part of the safe house.”
“The what?” Mia asked, her head tilted in confusion.
“Settling the women – and their kids, if they have them – in to their own home. Usually an apartment.”
“You mean that she rents an apartment for them?” Katie asked.
“Yep.” Reena drank some more wine. “She rents the space, she pays everything on it, she moves the families in. Stocks the fridge, keeps the light and heat on, pays the water bill. She does that until the woman gets a job that pays enough to cover the bills herself – then she lets them live there at a massively-reduced cost that’s really just symbolic, and she checks in every few weeks. If the woman is in school or needs some job-training, the safe house woman covers all of that, too.”
“Holy God.” Mia was stunned. “How many of these apartments does she rent right now?”
“Five. She wants to rent another ten, at least. That way, she can move some of the families out of the safe house and free up some of the space for women and kids who need intensive and daily in-house counselling, and a place to hide.”
“Jesus,” Maggie muttered. “Is this woman up for sainthood, by any chance?”
Reena giggled. “Right?”
“I can totally see why you’d fund her,” Katie said. “She’s actually changing lives, isn’t she?”
“She is.” Reena sighed. “And as selfish as it sounds, I’m so, so glad that it’s over now. I mean, I feel like now that I’ve allocated all the money from the judgment, the whole thing with Simon is really behind me for real and for good.”
“Well, I think that calls for a toast!” Katie declared, raising her glass. “To closure!”
The other women murmured their agreement, took deep sips of wine. Mia got to her feet and retrieved a second bottle of white wine from the fridge, uncorked it, headed back into her living room.
“So.” Maggie looked around the space, eyed the boxes scattered all over the place. She was sure that they were all just lying in wait for her to have her fourth glass of wine, and then they’d conspire to trip her as she wandered to the bathroom. “Nick officially moves in tomorrow?”
“Yep.” Mia poured out some wine in to Maggie’s glass with a generous hand, moved on to Reena. “He’ll hand over the key to his landlord, then he and Adam will drop Will and Marnie off at the airport. They’ll come here right after with the last of his things… and then he’ll live here, once and for all.”
“Weird that you guys didn’t do this sooner,” Reena commented. “Why didn’t you?”
Mia shrugged. “I mean, he has basically lived here ever since he finally told me about his leg – but he had to give thirty days notice on his lease. We decided to just take it slow with moving his things, we did it a few things at a time and around his surgery and parents’ visit and everything. His landlord was nice enough to give Nick an extra week, since he figured that the time in the hospital would make things difficult. And besides…” She looked around at the unpacked boxes. “The man has stuff. Like – stuff. So, so much stuff.”
The other women looked around, too.
“Uh, yeah.” Katie grinned. “I saw boxes in the bedroom, too.”
“Right?” Mia shook her head. “That’s all his clothes and shoes. All of this –” She waved her hand at the boxes in the corner of the living room. “– is his books and work stuff and dishes.”
“Huh.” Maggie contemplated the boxes. “Nick has way more stuff than I did when I moved in to Joe’s place last week. I feel much better about that now, actually.”
“Speaking of which…” Mia said. “How goes the living together thing?”
“Great,” Maggie said wryly as she helped herself to a raw carrot. “Except for the small matter of my rapidly-expanding ass.”
“Um.” Katie’s brow furrowed as she took in her friend’s half-frown. “Say what about your ass?”
“I’m gaining weight at an exponential rate,” Maggie announced. “I have done ever since me and Joe got back together, really, but since I’ve moved in, I’ve put on six pounds.” She glared down at her thighs. “I blame the croissants.”
Mia choked down a laugh. “Chocolate? Homemade?”
“Mmmm-hmmm to both.” Maggie grabbed a celery stick, contemplated the blue cheese dip, passed it up. “The man brings me breakfast in bed every single morning, guys.”
“That’s… nice?” Reena turned it into a question.
Maggie nodded. “It is. Except that he brings me a tray loaded down with caffeine and carbs, and I have exactly zero willpower to say no.”
“Does he at least help you work off the calories after?” Katie asked innocently.
Mia and Reena giggled and Maggie huffed.
“Yeah. But apparently not enough.”
“Double down,” Mia suggested helpfully. “Double the workout, double the calorie-burning, right?”
“Oh, shut up,” Maggie said, only semi-joking. “You three and your slim little bodies couldn’t possibly understand what I’m talking about.”
“Bullshit,” Reena said with spirit. “Joe adores your curves. He says so right in front of us, for God’s sake.”
Now Maggie blushed. “Well… yeah. Yeah, he does.”
“So what’s the issue?” Reena said. “He loves your body, you look and feel great… what are you complaining about, woman? Eat something and maybe you’ll feel better.”
“I – uh. Well.” Maggie paused. “Right. Gimme some of that veggie dip. Maybe some of the spicy shrimp, too.”
With a huge grin, Reena passed the plates over to Maggie, who helped herself with enthusiasm.
“And how are things with you, Katie?” Mia asked hesitantly. “I mean – if you want to talk about it…”
Katie was silent for a few seconds, and the other women froze. Mia felt a chill running down her spine, and she suddenly wondered if she should have just kept her big, fat mouth shut about Adam and Katie not being able to get pregnant.
Well, maybe they could. They’d gone back to the fertility specialist the day after Katie’s meltdown in her office, and they’d calmly examined all the options at their disposal. The doctor’s final word was that there was a miniscule chance that Katie could get pregnant with some treatments, and an even smaller chance that she’d carry the pregnancy to term. The odds weren’t in favor of any of that happening, but the doctor had seen women beat the odds. Not many wome
n, to be sure… but ‘miniscule’ didn’t mean ‘totally impossible’.
‘Miniscule’ meant a chance. Not much of one, admittedly, but still. There was a chance.
But Katie and Adam had talked about it for ten hours straight – they’d talked all through the night after the doctor’s visit – and they’d decided that they didn’t want to take the gamble. They hated the odds; they hated the uncertainty; they hated the fact that Katie would have to be pumped full of drugs to even have the tiny shot on offer.
Most of all, Adam hated the emotional toll and toil that it would all take on Katie. He thought that she was the strongest woman that he’d ever known, but even strong women had their limits. And he was pretty convinced that Katie submitting to months – if not years – of endless procedures, and internal examinations, and quite probably miscarriages, was asking far too much of her.
He’d told her that the final call was hers, though, and that he’d stand by whatever she decided. Said that he loved her more than his own life, and if trying made her happy, then that’s what they’d do.
But Katie had decided to not try. She’d decided to walk away from her dream of pregnancy, and her friends were humbled and astonished at her grace. They were also heartbroken for her.
They’d given her space and time over the past few days, but they were worried at her continued silence about the next steps that she and Adam were going to take… if any. Mia’s gentle, careful question was asked out of love – but she was terrified that love wasn’t enough right now.
In an odd way, for Mia, perhaps the most surprising thing to come out of that marathon ten-hour discussion with Adam was his insistence that Katie start seeing a therapist. When Katie had told her that over coffee, Mia had stared at her in total confusion and consternation.
“Why?” Mia had asked. “Why now?”
Katie had squirmed a bit. “Well… because I never really – dealt with things.”
“No?”
“No. I mean… I got away from home young and I started my own life here in Denver. I just – I got on with it, you know? And time passed and I just coped as best I could. Then Adam came along and I guess I thought – we both thought – that we could fix everything with love.”
“But now you think you can’t?” Mia had asked gently.
“My first thought when I couldn’t get pregnant was to blame myself for failing,” Katie said, her voice almost toneless. “And when Doctor Reed told me about the scarring on my uterus and how that would make things difficult, if not impossible, my go-to reaction was to tell Adam that I was broken. That I was damaged and faulty, and that he should leave me and find a real woman who could make him happy, because I wasn’t ever going to be able to do that. That I’m too damaged and dirty to do that, and I don’t deserve him.” She’d hesitated, then choked out the next words. “On some level, I believe that I don’t deserve happiness.”
Mia had been horrified. “Katie… oh, my God.”
“I know.” Katie had tried to smile, but both her hands and her lips had been shaky. “It’s my default setting, you know? And Adam says that he can love me fully – but he can’t help me the way that I need to be helped. So he insisted that no matter what we decide to do about having a family, I need to get some help.”
“You agreed?” Mia had held her breath, praying hard that Katie hadn’t been pig-headed or stubborn about this. It was way too important for her to dig in her heels.
“I did,” Katie had said quietly. “I start next week.”
Since then, Mia had heard nothing more from Katie. Not about therapy; not about next steps; not about her headspace. Mia’s gentle, careful question about Katie maybe wanting to talk now was a risk, and they all knew it. So it was nothing but an immense, staggering relief when Katie sighed and gave her friends a small smile.
“Yeah,” she said. “I do want to talk about it.”
Mia exhaled, her knees feeling weak even though she was sitting down. “OK.”
Katie drank some more wine, took a deep breath. “We want to adopt.”
“Oh, Katie,” Reena said, her blue eyes shining with tears. She’d been adopted at the age of ten by a couple who had introduced her to painting. “I’m so happy to hear that.”
Katie returned her smile. “I knew you would be. I know that adoption changed your life.”
“It totally did. And it changed my parents’ lives, too. For the better all around.”
“That’s what we’re hoping for,” Katie said. “We’re starting the whole application process tomorrow – that’s how we’re spending the weekend. Filling in forms and getting documents from the bank and The Rock’s accountant. Letters and testimonials from work associates, both past and present. We’ll be at it for weeks, we figure.”
“Lots of work,” Maggie commented. “You working with an agency?”
“Ummm.” Katie hesitated. “Actually, we’re going to take a slightly less-traditional approach.”
Her friends looked up, totally alert.
“Alright,” Reena said cautiously. “What’s that?”
“Well, adoption agencies tend to prefer married couples, and we’re not one,” Katie said. “I mean, we want that and we’ll do that… but we don’t want to rush to the altar just to be more attractive adoption candidates. You know?”
The other women nodded. They did know.
“So, Adam found this one organization that’s way more open to unmarried couples. We have to apply to be put on their potential adoptive parents list, and once we’re on it, then we’re shown to young women who are putting their babies up for adoption. They decide if they want to meet us, and then the women decide if they want their baby to go to a certain couple.”
Her friends stared at her.
“So… you mean…” Mia stammered. “You mean that the babies’ mothers look over the prospective parents, and they choose where their baby goes?”
“Yeah.” Katie drank a bit of wine. “And they often make that decision based on personal preferences, like location or city where the baby will be raised, education level of the couple, their jobs, even their appearances. In lots of cases, the birth moms want a relationship with their baby and not every adoptive couple is open to that. So that’s a factor, too, in the birth mom’s decision.”
“And how do you feel about that?” Reena asked gently. “Having the birth mother in your lives?”
“We like it,” Katie said. “Adam and I both like that idea a lot, and we’re checking the ‘open to birth mother relationship’ box on all the forms.”
“My God,” Maggie said. “Any sense how long it might take to get on the list?”
“Maybe a month to be accepted by the organization, but we may never be chosen by a woman.” Katie shrugged, trying to not let the thought sink her hope. “It’s a crap-shoot, in the end, that we’ll meet a birth mom’s criteria and we know that. So we’re covering our bases and we’ll apply to at least three other adoptive agencies after we get married.”
The women perked up.
“And when will that be?” Mia asked, her golden eyes sparkling. “The whole marriage thing?”
Katie laughed. “You guys’ll be the third, fourth and fifth people to know. I promise.”
Chapter Eight
One week later
Nick had never felt so weak, so vulnerable. Not ever, in the whole of his almost-thirty-five years on earth.
Oh, sure, since losing his leg he’d been weak and vulnerable, and he’d been so more times than he could count, or that he cared to think about. But what was going on here and now was a whole new level of weakness and vulnerability – and he fucking hated it. Hated it hard and deep and with everything that he had.
He stared down at his prosthetic, trying desperately to get a feel for it, trying to will it to feel natural on his body. Maisie had told him that he’d have to learn to see it
as an extension of himself – but right now, all he saw was an alien object, something that didn’t fit and which sure as hell didn’t belong anywhere near his large, muscular body.
Fuck, he missed his leg right now. Loss rolled over him, crashed over him, threatened to take him down. He blinked back tears, determined to not lose his focus or his hope.
God, it was hard, though. Right at this moment, it almost felt impossible.
“Nick?”
He looked up at Adam, saw nothing but worry in those blue eyes.
“Yeah?” he replied, trying to look more together than he actually was.
“I’m ready when you are, man.” Adam shifted his massive weight on both feet, his arms hanging loose at his sides. “Take a step. I’m here.”
Nick nodded, but remained frozen in place, holding the parallel bars in a death grip. He’d been standing there for more than ten minutes now, just standing there, trying to work up the courage to take a step as one nightmare scenario after another played out in his head.
Every single one of the scenarios ended with him catapulting forward and landing flat on his face. In the worst ones, he broke his nose, knocked out a few teeth, knocked himself out cold. In none of them did he manage to take one step, and definitely in none of them did he walk the full length of the bars.
Maisie sat to one side, watching impassively. She hadn’t said a word the whole time that Nick had stood there silent and shaking. She’d just sat there, watching and waiting. She knew that the battle he was fighting inside himself was huge and it was intensely personal. Right now, Nick was struggling with Nick – with his fear and faith.
This was one battle that every single person waged alone, up there on that walking platform. Some of them retreated, came back to fight another day. And some plunged head-long into the fray, taking the chance that they’d be defeated and betrayed by their own bodies. Maisie was pretty sure that Nick was going to enter the arena – eventually.
Fighting Back (Fighting For Love Book 5) Page 8