Saying Good-bye to London

by Julie Burtinshaw

  “We have a rich spiritual life,” Sawyer mimicked. “One down and crossed off the list. Three to go.”

  “Oh god,” her mother groaned. “Let’s hope it gets better, not worse. They were horrifying. That poor man. At the same time, I think you are all being a tad judgmental about religion. You can’t fault people because their beliefs don’t align with your own.”

  Sawyer dismissed her. “Francis, you’d better call Kevin and let him know what happened.”

  “I will,” Francis said. “He’ll be disappointed.”

  At three o’clock, Michelle and Winston, Jack’s candidates, took their seats in the chairs vacated by Beth and David. Sawyer, her mom, and Francis liked them immediately. Winston exuded warmth, and Michelle’s bright eyes and soft voice betrayed a vulnerable honesty. They held hands. Michelle asked if she could feel Sawyer’s tummy, and when the baby kicked, her eyes welled up. “I think she will be beautiful like her mother and tall like her father. No?”

  “What will you tell the baby about her adoption, about the birth family?” Francis asked, eager to get on with the interview and skip the preliminaries.

  Winston’s face lit up. He looked at Michelle. She nodded, trusting his words. “Your baby will know the love in this room. We will tell her that you were very young when you had her and that you wanted the best for her. Of course, every year, she will receive your letters and photos, and she will tell you all about her life. There will be no secrets, no shame.”

  “Are you religious?” Francis asked nervously, Beth and David still at the forefront of his mind.

  Michelle focused her large green eyes on his. Although she did her best to be calm, she tapped her leg with her fingers.

  Mrs. Martin felt a wave of sympathy for her. “Michelle,” she said kindly, “there are no right or wrong answers. We are gathering information to help Sawyer with her decision.”

  Her husband squeezed her hand and Michelle let her breath out slowly. “Thank you, Mrs. Martin. You probably understand how hard this is for us. We want a baby so badly…” Her sentence trailed off, and they all waited patiently for her answer. “We do not attend a church. We are not dogmatic people, but we believe that if one respects oneself, one, in turn, will respect others. We believe that we are all equal and that we are stewards of this planet.

  “Your baby will travel the world and will learn these lessons. She will be bilingual, as we have a large family in France as well as in Montreal.” Winston laughed, delighted at the thought of what the future might hold.

  “Do you have pets?” asked Mrs. Martin.

  “We’d like to get a puppy, but not until the baby is old enough to play with it.”

  They talked about their corner apartment and the bright, yellow room they’d prepared for a child. Mrs. Martin’s heart went out to them as she imagined the empty nursery they faced daily. They described in detail their careers, their love of reading, and how they hoped to pass that on to their child. They wanted to know Sawyer’s favorite books and music.

  “Ska,” Sawyer answered. “And I like classical, as well as show soundtracks from musicals too, like Rent or Les Mis.”

  “I can play them for the baby, and also opera,” Michelle offered.

  When Mrs. Martin asked about their history, they explained their years of trying to get pregnant, the in vitro that failed, the roller coaster of emotions they’d experienced; and the more they spoke about themselves, the more likable they became. The only hitch revolved around the baby’s name. They reluctantly agreed to London, although they jokingly said they’d prefer Paris. Sawyer suspected London would be given a nickname directly following her birth. It was a small thing, she knew, but it bugged her.

  Francis asked, “Winston, who is your role model for a father?”

  Winston didn’t hesitate. “Ben Parker.”

  Francis beamed. “Are you kidding me? Excellent!”

  Sawyer leaned forward in her chair. “Who?”

  “Peter Parker’s dad.” Francis scoffed. “Peter Parker, aka Spiderman? His uncle Ben and Aunt Mary adopted Peter when his parents were killed in a plane crash. They loved him unconditionally, and ‘Uncle’ Ben was an awesome dad. He adored Peter. He died.” Francis thought of Kevin. “Tragic. Peter was devastated.”

  “That is right,” said Winston. “If not for his Uncle Ben, Peter might have used his powers for evil, but he didn’t, because he was so loved. And London will be too.”

  “We would be honored if you’d allow us to be at her birth—that is, if you select us.” Michelle smiled.

  The two hours they’d set aside for the interview flew by, and all too soon, Michelle and Winston said good-bye. When they left the apartment, their footsteps were much lighter, and their hearts brimmed with hope for a baby.

  “They were a thousand times better than David and Beth,” Francis observed. “Definitely front-runners. Winston would be an incredible dad. I mean, totally hands-on and no yelling, and he likes Marvel Comics. Jack did a good job on those two.”

  “Yes,” Sawyer agreed. “What do you think, Mom?”

  “I liked them,” her mother replied. She had one big concern, but she decided to bring it up when it was time to vote. “Let’s wait until we’ve met them all to decide.”

  “I think you can safely tell Phoenix that David and Beth are out,” Francis said with a laugh. “Boy, did Kevin ever misread those two. We all did.”

  “I agree,” said Sawyer. “But we have to wait until we meet all of them and talk to Jack and Kevin before we call the agency.” She hugged him. “That’s why there are four of us on the panel. By the way, what did you think about their request to be at the birth?”

  Francis grinned. “I think it said a lot. The other two never even brought it up.”

  “Guess who else wants to be there,” Sawyer said.

  “Who?” Both Francis and Mrs. Martin spoke at the same time.

  “Jack! And I think it’s cool, but I said no. Actually, I said no frigging way. You, Mom, you’re my birth coach, and I want the nurses, doctors, and the new parents there. That’s it.”

  “I’ll hang in the waiting room with Kevin and Jack. Someone can give us the play-by-play. I don’t have a problem with that,” Francis said.

  Sawyer nodded. “Actually, I was hoping you’d say that. You guys can supply food in the waiting room. Deal?”

  “Deal. Now, I’m going home. I’m wiped. Will you let Jack know he did a good job of screening his choice?”

  “You bet. He’ll be here anytime now.”

  Francis hugged Sawyer. “See you tomorrow.”

  He bussed home, replaying the day over and over in his head. They’d met one really weird couple and one really great couple. Tomorrow would be interesting.

  • • •

  Maria Del Ray vowed to be on time for once, but she forgot to ask the concierge to give her a wake-up call and ended up sleeping in. Not by nature a morning person, she knew she’d have to change her internal clock once she became a parent. She’d do that willingly; she’d do almost anything to hold a baby of her own in her arms. It wasn’t fair. Maria had blocked fallopian tubes, a tilted uterus, and had wasted years in a bad relationship; and now, here she was on the downward side of thirty-five and her doctor had given her little chance of conception. She had everything—a lovely home, a career she loved, good friends, family, a lovable dog—everything but a child. Never one to give up, she’d taken matters into her own hands and registered to be on a wait-list for a child. Specifically a baby, although she knew her single status would make that difficult.

  When the social worker from Phoenix had called, Maria experienced a glimmer of hope. Now here she was in Vancouver, a lovely city by the sea, racing in a cab to meet the teenagers who held her destiny in their hands.

  She’d listened to Ms. Yeung’s description of the interview process with a sinking heart.
Teenagers were unpredictable, fickle, interesting for sure, but—capable of choosing a mother?

  At a quarter past eleven, fifteen minutes late, Maria knocked on Sawyer’s front door. Hearing the light tap, Sawyer let out a sigh of relief. “That’s her! I was starting to think she got cold feet.”

  Maria looked much younger than her thirty-seven years. Like Sawyer, she wore leggings and a long shirt. Her short, curly black hair framed a caring face, and her big smile was genuine. “Sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly. “Alarm problems. Gosh, you must be Sawyer!” She embraced Sawyer warmly. “And look at your sweet baby bump.”

  Sawyer blushed. “Please come in and sit wherever you are comfortable.” Introductions were made all round.

  Francis asked the first question. “Do you think it will be difficult to raise a child without a father?”

  “Not at all. I was raised in a two-parent family, but I’d describe my own mother as distant and my father as emotionally absent. I would be a fully engaged and loving mom, and I’ve loads of brothers and friends who will provide fun and positive role models. Besides, I’ve yet to meet the right person, but I will one day, and then, well, I hope he’ll love the baby like his own.”

  Alarm bells went off in Mrs. Martin’s head, but her face remained passive. “Dr. Del Ray,” she asked, “what made you decide to go the adoption route, instead of…well, you know…”

  “I want my child to know that she was loved by her birth parents and by me. There are children who need homes, and I need to be a mother. I don’t want to bring another child into the world when so many are waiting for good homes.”

  Sawyer swallowed. “What sort of school would you send the child to?”

  Maria smiled and her face relaxed again. “A private school and, of course, a university education. But while she’s young, she can come to the clinic with me—that’s one of the advantages of owning your own business. I’d probably have a nanny. I’ve got plenty of room at the clinic to set up a small nursery.”

  “What does your tattoo mean?” Sawyer lifted her own sleeve. “I’ve got one too. London. It means two things to me—it helps me to remember where I used to live and it’s the name of my baby girl.”

  “Nice. I like the name you’ve chosen. I love London. I go there at least once every two years. Mine means exactly what it says: Trust in yourself. I learned at a very young age that self-confidence leads to self-respect, both of which I would give your child.”

  Sawyer smiled, happy with the answer.

  Maria told them all about her renovated Victorian home in Calgary and her dog, Benny. She chatted on about her parents and her friends in an easy and relaxed manner. She told them how much having a baby would change her life. “Sorry. This means so much to me and I get emotional talking about it.”

  The interview went on for more than two hours because they felt so comfortable with her, and when she left, they were sad to see her go. “She feels like a big sister,” Sawyer noted. “Did you notice that quirky habit she had of scrunching up her nose? I really liked her. She’s bubbly and down to earth at the same time!”

  “And she looks a bit like you, Sawyer,” Francis added. “Plus, she’s funny. I loved it when she described pulling that ‘stubborn little calf’ out of a cow.”

  Francis and Sawyer both agreed that she’d made it to the finals, but Mrs. Martin seemed more hesitant. “What didn’t you like about her, Mom?” Sawyer asked, picking up on her mother’s hesitation.

  “It’s not easy to raise a child on your own. I’d know that more than anyone. In my book, that’s a big strike against her.”

  Francis didn’t want to get involved in an argument between Sawyer and her mom; if he had, he would have said, But Maria has a great career and money. It wouldn’t be the same struggle. Instead, he said, “Let’s talk about this as a group. My candidates should be here soon, the last ones. The hardest part of all of this will be choosing.”

  Mrs. Martin nodded in agreement. Sawyer sighed. “I know.”

  • • •

  Taylor Laberge and Sydney Fox were five minutes early. When they shook hands with Mrs. Martin, they both had strong, confident grips, and she liked them immediately. But it was their daughter who won everyone’s hearts.

  She bounced into the room, clutching a raggedy, love-worn doll. “Where’s the baby?” When she didn’t see a baby, her face fell. “I’ve got a dolly for her. Where is she?”

  Taylor scooped her up in his arms and, smiling apologetically at Sawyer, said, “The baby is in her tummy, like you were before you were born. Remember the story about your birth?”

  She nodded solemnly, looking directly into his eyes. “Can I tell it?”

  “Of course, sweetie.”

  “I have a mamma and a daddy and a poppa. I’m Star.” The little girl’s scanned the room, and then she made her way to Jack, who had the afternoon off and who had begged to be present at this interview. She tilted her head and regarded him seriously. “You’re the daddy.”

  He burst out laughing. “I’m not, actually. But it’s a common mistake around here.” Jack pointed at Francis. “He’s the daddy.”

  Francis blushed, then quickly changed the subject. “Star is an interesting name. How did you get it?”

  “Daddy and Poppa wanted a baby more than this,” she said, holding her hands out wide. “More than the whole universe. They used to wish on a star for me. ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little Star, how we wonder where you are.’ They wondered where I was. I was hiding, like your baby is hiding. What’s her name?”

  “London.” Francis look helplessly at Sawyer, who shrugged and rubbed her belly.

  “Do you want to touch her?” she asked.

  Star extended her small hand and placed it on Sawyer’s tummy. “Hello, London,” she whispered, her face inches from Sawyer’s taut skin.

  “She’s pretty excited about the possibility of a baby sister,” Taylor said. “Please, go ahead and ask us anything you like, and we’ll try to get a word in edgewise.”

  “Well…” Sawyer rubbed the side of her nose. “Do you think it might be hard for Star to suddenly have a sibling to contend with? I mean, she’s obviously the center of your world, and that’s great, but could it cause problems?”

  Sydney glanced at Taylor. “There would be a period of adjustment, and we are prepared for that. We’d be very careful to ensure that Star continues to feel loved and included, while teaching her that we have enough love for both of them.”

  “Do you think it’s hard on Star—the fact that she doesn’t have a mother?” Jack asked.

  “Uh,” Sydney said, “do you mean, can a gay couple be as good parents as a straight couple?”

  When Jack opened his mouth to protest, Sydney held up his hand. “It’s a fair question. This is what we know: Children need unconditional love, guidance, and some structure. One good parent is a gift, but two committed parents—be they two committed moms or a regular mom and dad or, in our case, two committed dads—are double the gift.”

  Francis felt a surprising affinity toward the two men. He knew he’d picked well. “If you were chosen, would you like to be at the birth?”

  They nodded in unison. “We’d be honored. Will all of you be there?”

  “No. Just my mom—she’s my coach—and the doctor and the medical staff. Jack and Francis will be in the waiting room.”

  “Sawyer, if you choose us, your daughter will grow up knowing the sacrifice you made for her, and she’ll know how many people cared about her.” Taylor’s voice broke, and Sydney reached over and patted the back of his hand.

  “I’m hugely impressed with you kids.” Sydney directed his next comment at Francis. “It’s a brave and very responsible thing you’re doing.”

  “Can you tell us a bit about your lives in Montreal?” Mrs. Martin handed Star a carrot stick. She munched on it contentedly, twirling
her hair in her plump fingers.

  “We live in a big Victorian house minutes outside the Old Port. Taylor’s hours are flexible, so he’s home in the mornings. On any afternoons he has a commitment, he’ll drop the baby off at our wonderful on-campus daycare, so no nannies. Star is being brought up in both French and English, and the baby would have the same advantage. We have a cabin in the Laurentians, where we spend a month every summer, and in the winter, we spend two weeks somewhere warm. She’ll learn to ski, play soccer, go to galleries—have opportunities to discover her own passions.”

  Taylor said, “The baby will have her own room, next to Star’s and across the hall from Sydney and me. When the kids are older, we’d like to get a dog. My two brothers and their families live in Montreal, as do Sydney’s mom and dad.”

  “Do you keep in touch with Star’s mom?” Francis asked.

  “On her birthday—”

  “We eat la crème glacée et les gâteaux and have a party,” interrupted Star. “We write a letter to my mama with my best picture in it. Before I go to sleep, we read her letter and open her present.”

  As the two hours drew to a close, Taylor, Sydney, and Star had even won the heart of skeptical Sawyer. When they left, nobody said anything. They were all lost in their private thoughts.

  Mrs. Martin broke the silence by stating the obvious: “Needless to say, those three made the final round?”

  Sawyer smiled. “I didn’t think they’d have a chance, but I really liked them.”

  “Maybe,” Jack said hopefully, “if we choose them, I could get to know them a bit better.”

  “What’s the next step?” Francis asked.

  Mrs. Martin suggested they invite Kevin to join them and order Chinese. They could discuss the choices and then, if they were all willing, move on to the vote. “That way, we’ll have time to think about who we like and why. When we’ve finished dinner, we can argue for or against our choices. If there is a tie after a show of hands, I’ll come in as the tiebreaker. Fair?”

  She was about to pick up the phone and order when there was a knock at the door. She opened it to Francis’s dad.