“I don’t think I can do this,” Matt said after a few minutes. “Every time I think I’ve accepted it, I get some overwhelming realization that I haven’t. This is crazy. He doesn’t even know us. Why are we doing this?”
Maddie took a breath, remembering the reasons she had come up with to make it bearable. “Because he’s a little boy who needs, and obviously wants, a father. What a blessing this will be to him.”
“I’m not a father,” Matt said, staring at the steering wheel. “I’m no different than the other four guys who were tested—it’s all about biology and nothing else. Why are we forcing something that will be so uncomfortable and unnatural for all of us?”
Maddie took a breath. “It’s about a lot more than biology,” she said, though she agreed that his intent had been no different from that of the other possible candidates. “And the difference between you and anyone else is that you are his father. You have a responsibility to him. We have the chance to make a difference in his life. We should be grateful for that.”
Matt didn’t say anything, and Maddie knew he was a long way away from feeling gratitude for any of this. They pulled up outside Maddie’s office, and she leaned toward him and kissed him good-bye. “It’s going to be okay, Matt.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Just try to accept it, all right?” She hoped he didn’t pick up on the edge in her voice.
Matt looked at her. “I am trying,” he said stubbornly.
She held his eyes for a few more moments, and in them she could see his continuing obstinacy. Sighing, she kissed him once more and got out of the car. There was little more she could do; the rest had to come from Matt. But it bothered her. Shouldn’t she be the one with the hesitations and fear? She had more reason than he did. She pulled open the heavy glass door of her office building, smiling at a coworker she passed on her way to the stairs.
As she sat down at her desk, she realized that even though her arms were empty, her heart was full and ready to have children. She was a woman, a wife, and very much wanting to be a mother. Tears pricked her eyes as she pondered the idea that her longing might be what brought Matt to accepting his role in his son’s life. A warmth filled her chest, and she knew that just as she’d chosen to come home to her husband, at some point she’d chosen to do right by this child. She wondered when it had happened, and then realized it was likely a gradual thing. Every time she looked at Walter’s picture on the mantel, every time she prayed for strength, she was receiving it. Perhaps one drop at a time. But it was there, and she was overwhelmed with gratitude. She could only hope Matt would follow her example.
When she got home that night, Matt had left a note explaining he was with a client. He also apologized for having such a hard time with everything.
. . . I’m trying, Maddie, I really am, and I’ll do better. I don’t know what I’d do without your support in this. Thank you for being so strong, for pushing me forward and for being here at all. I picked something up for you on the way home from work—it’s in the fridge. Love you,
Matt
Maddie smiled and then turned to the fridge. Inside was a piece of German chocolate cheesecake, by far her favorite dessert. Matt used to do little things like that when they were first married. She had worked full-time while he went to school. Between class and study groups, they had struggled to find time together. His little gifts had been a sweet reminder that she was missed—as was this one. Calories notwithstanding, she enjoyed the cheesecake, reflecting on the fact that just as she had chosen to be here, so had Matt. He didn’t have to face the situation with this much conscience and maturity. It was powerful for her to realize that.
When she finished the delectable cheesecake, she changed out of her work clothes. She was hanging them up in the guest-room closet when she paused and looked around. Over the last six weeks she’d gradually moved her things into this room, and yet she hadn’t quite realized it until this moment.
She looked at the jacket in her hands. “What am I doing?” she asked no one. Lifting her chin, she pulled all the clothes from the closet and took them back into the master bedroom. For the next hour she moved all her things back—her books, her jewelry, everything that didn’t belong in a guest room.
Matt didn’t notice when he came home. It had become normal for them to sleep in separate rooms. They hadn’t even talked about it. She thanked him for the cheesecake, and he smiled, obviously pleased to have done something she appreciated. An hour later, Matt was deciding what he would wear the next day to work and gave her only a perfunctory glance when she came into the room and began changing into her pajamas. He stopped and watched her for a few moments, and then turned to study his shirts hanging in the closet. That was when he seemed to notice her clothes were back. He turned to look at her, but she spoke before he had the chance.
“I’m thinking of giving the bed in there to my folks,” she said as she pulled her pajama bottoms on. “Mom’s been talking about turning the den downstairs into a guest room. With so many kids and grandkids, she needs more room to put them up when they come in town.”
“What about a bed for Walter?” Matt asked, hesitation thick in his tone.
“Maybe we could get a twin instead.”
Matt was silent, and she sensed he was feeling her out. “Why not keep the double?”
She turned and faced him. “With a double bed in there, it’s too comfortable for me to make it my room, and it isn’t. It’s Walter’s room. I belong here.”
Matt smiled and came to sit next to her. He pulled her down to lie beside him. “Can I take the lock off the door as well?” he asked. “Just in case a twin seems too accommodating some nights.”
She scrunched up her face as if deep in thought. “I guess,” she said with a shrug as she began running her fingers through his hair. She smiled and cocked her head to the side. “When was the last time we made love for fun?”
“Fun?” Matt repeated. “People make love for fun?”
Maddie chuckled. “That’s what I hear.”
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. I had no idea.” He put a hand behind her head and pulled her closer until their lips met. The spark she felt was something she barely remembered but wanted very much to become familiar with again. She’d missed it over the years and vowed not to let it slip away this time.
Chapter 26
Maddie woke up remembering what day it was—as if she could forget. The second Sunday in May: the worst day of the year. Matt was still asleep. She crept out of the room and dressed in the jogging clothes she’d left in the bathroom for this very reason. As quietly as possible, she slipped them on, put on her running shoes, opened the front door, and escaped to the great outdoors. Thank goodness it was a nice day. In past years Matt would get her flowers, or make her a Mother’s Day breakfast in bed. Even though she’d never really deserved it back then, she’d gone along with it and enjoyed the day based on the promise that the next year . . . But this time was different, and he seemed to understand when she told him she wanted to skip it altogether.
Last year’s Mother’s Day had been the hardest one up to that point. Before then she’d been so excited and hopeful. Last Mother’s Day, however, the blissful hopefulness had begun to fade, and she’d decided not to stand to get her obligatory flower at church. Everyone knew by then that she and Matt were getting infertility treatments, and she didn’t want the looks of pity as she stood above everyone and waited for her mum. Rather than stand and feel conspicuous, she shrank into the seat. Matt elbowed her, but she’d shut him down with a hard look he couldn’t help but understand. Then Sister Christiansen, in the row behind them with her seven kids, had leaned down.
“Stand up, Sister Shep,” she had whispered.
Maddie turned and looked into the woman’s meaty, but kind, face. “It’s okay,” she whispered back, humiliated that someone had noticed and dared call her on it.
Sister Christiansen pushed at her shoulder. “It’s not okay. You get on yo
ur feet and get your flower.”
Maddie shook her head and prayed she would be left alone. But Sister Jensen, standing in front of them with her two kids and eight-month-pregnant belly stretching out in front, had turned and chimed in as well. Apparently they felt it their duty to make sure Maddie got the flower she didn’t want and didn’t deserve. Finally she had stood, beet red, looking at her shoes and willing herself not to cry or scream. Maddie was out the door within seconds once the meeting was over. She placed the flower back in the plastic tray in the foyer and hurried to the car. She felt certain Matt remembered, which was probably why he had agreed to let the day pass by this year.
They had taken their gifts to their moms yesterday, so they didn’t have to face anyone today. This year she would have just as soon slept through it.
Maddie and Matt had been walking together for almost three months now and had just started running—but she didn’t feel like running today. Besides, it was Sunday. They didn’t usually exercise at all on Sunday, but she needed to get out of the house. Thanks to the months of exercise, Maddie was in better shape than she had ever been. In fact, she was beginning to enjoy it. When she finished circumventing the neighborhoods and side streets, she reached the park and followed the jogging trail. She’d forgotten her headphones, but even musicless walking was better than church. She looked at her watch after what she thought had been about an hour and smiled. Another hour and she would be too late to have time to get ready, thus staving off any argument from Matt, should he decide to try to talk her into going after all.
“You can’t run from your problems—or walk, for that matter.”
She whipped around and narrowed her eyes as Matt jogged to catch up. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” she told him. She wanted to be alone. To make that clear, she started jogging once he stopped to catch his breath. He caught up in a few steps.
“I wanted to wish you a happy—”
“Stuff it,” she said, giving him a hard look.
“No—this is important. So happy—”
She turned and stopped, putting a hand over his mouth as he stopped too. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you to not say anything about it, okay. This is the mother of all bad days for me, no pun intended. Please,” she begged, wanting him to hear the sincerity in her voice. “Please let it go by this time. I don’t want any flowers. I don’t want to stand up and have people give me encouraging smiles. I don’t want it—really.”
Matt grabbed her wrist and removed her hand from his mouth. “I know all that, Maddie. I’m talking about No Socks and Have a Coke Day.”
Maddie furrowed her brow. “What?”
“I looked it up, and May eighth is No Socks and Have a Coke Day. So . . . happy No Socks and Have a Coke Day.”
Maddie tried to hold back the smile, but she couldn’t resist. “You looked it up or you made it up?” she asked as they resumed walking.
“I looked it up,” he said with a nod of his head. “It’s official.”
Matt found her hand with his own. They walked for several minutes in silence, enjoying the spring day.
“I’m not going to church,” she said when she realized they were turned toward home.
“Me neither,” Matt said with a nod. “I suggest we take a few Cokes, drive up into the mountains, lay out a blanket, and take off our socks.”
“We’d have to buy Coke on Sunday,” Maddie said. “I might be a heathen for walking on Sunday and not going to church, but I don’t know that I can justify that level of heathenism.”
“Well, see, I actually thought about this before today,” Matt said, casting her a sidelong glance and winking. “And I bought the Coke—and some cute fuzzy socks.”
“But it’s No Sock day.”
“Well, after the No Socks, we could put on some socks. Our own little holiday.”
He squeezed her hand, and she felt the emotion rise in her throat. It was hard to believe that a few months ago she’d been so disappointed in their marriage. That he had thought of something so sweet and so simple melted her. “You’re delectable,” Maddie said, leaning into him. “I think it sounds fabulous.”
And it was. After drinking their Cokes in the mountains, they sprawled out on an unzipped sleeping bag with bologna sandwiches packed in a cooler at their feet. They took off their shoes and fell asleep. When they woke up from their alpine nap, Matt put the bright pink fuzzy socks on her feet and took a picture—several, in fact. They got home as the sun was setting.
“This was the best Mother’s Day I’ve ever had,” she said as they got ready for bed a couple of hours later.
Matt gave her an exaggerated look. “What are you talking about? It’s No Socks and Have a Coke Day.”
She laughed. “Thank you for making it the best No Socks and Have a Coke Day I’ve ever had.”
“I’ll do anything for a smile.”
She grinned as widely as she could and wrapped her arms around his neck, grateful for the opportunity to focus on what she had instead of what she was missing.
Chapter 27
During the weeks that followed No Socks and Have a Coke Day, Maddie put together a care package for Walter, hoping it would make it easier for him to come. Even though she felt herself growing excited for the experience, it was nerve-wracking as well. The little she knew about Indian reservations wasn’t positive, and though she promised herself not to put too much stock in rumors, it made her nervous. She worried that his beliefs would be very different from theirs, that their lifestyle here would be overwhelming to Walter. Allen had come over one night and answered many of their questions. It had helped immensely. He had suggested that they not push the Church, but include it as a normal part of their lives and let Walter ask questions as they came. Mostly he counseled them to be as patient and loving as possible, pointing out how hard it would be for Walter to leave the life and people he knew. Maddie found herself watching other boys his age and trying to prepare herself.
Another half-day Friday at the end of May gave Maddie the afternoon off, and she headed toward home deep in thought. The subject of adoption had occupied her thoughts a great deal, but she’d avoided taking any steps forward in the process. Then, over the last week or so, she had seemed to see adoption everywhere. It turned out that a woman she worked with had adopted two children from Korea almost fifteen years ago. Maddie had never noticed the multicultural family picture. The talk radio show she often listened to on the way home spent a whole day discussing adoption and, more specifically, how to integrate multiple races in one household. She had a dentist appointment, and the People magazine she picked up focused on celebrities who had adopted. She felt surrounded and couldn’t seem to escape thinking about it. She kept telling herself she wasn’t ready. But if God was giving her subtle hints, it was working. She couldn’t shake the thoughts from her mind.
By the time she arrived home that Friday she had managed to transition from not feeling ready to finding herself excited. They had Walter coming, so why not get started on the rest of their family? Over the weeks since her surgery, her heart had softened to the point where she felt capable of loving any baby who might come her way. She hungered to be a mother—anyone’s mother—and saw the hunger as a true gift from God.
She called LDS Family Services, and they said they would send her an information packet. Then she went online and ordered the books Dr. Lawrence had recommended to her months ago.
“What’s this?” Matt asked when he returned from work that afternoon. Maddie was at the kitchen table, surrounded by things she had printed off the internet.
He picked up an article and scanned the page.
“I think I’m finally ready to get started on this,” she said, underlining another tidbit she wanted to go back to later. Then she looked up at him. “I don’t want to rush it, though, and if you’re not ready we can wait.”
Matt leaned forward and kissed her. “I’d been thinking the same thing. But I didn’t want to push you.”
“Yeah, ri
ght,” she said and shook her head. They spent the rest of the evening getting started on their research. They figured out what they had in savings—less than they’d had several weeks ago, thanks to the medical bills for Maddie’s surgery and six weeks of unpaid medical leave. LDS Family Services had said the costs were based on a sliding scale relative to household income. With that as a guide, they knew how much longer they needed to save up.
“It’s almost hard to believe anyone ever has a baby for free,” Maddie said as she compared some prices for private adoptions. They were so expensive—up to thirty thousand dollars.
“Yeah, with all we’ve spent, you’d think we’d get a discount somewhere,” he said. “The guys I work with are in these nice houses with nice cars. Their wives don’t work, and here you and I work our tails off.”
“Ugh, I don’t want to think about that,” she said, shaking her head. “LDS Social Services is looking better and better. We could have the money by July.”
“Do we want to start all this with Walter here?”
Maddie shook her head. “No, so maybe we should shoot for September. By the way, Walter flies in on the twenty-first. We had to change the day.”
Matt just nodded and started punching numbers into the calculator. He had made some strides in accepting the situation, but Maddie had been the one who had stepped up and taken over all the arrangements.
“Sonja isn’t bringing him, is she?” Matt asked a minute later. Maddie had gone back to reading an article, and it took a moment to realize what he was talking about.
“No, his grandmother is going to fly with him to make sure he’s settled.”
“I thought his grandmother was dead.”
Maddie gave him a look showing her disapproval of his blunt statement. “She is. This is a woman he calls Grandmother. She sounds cool. She taught Native American Studies at Penn State back in the sixties, then went back to the Reservation to teach at a high school there.”
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