My chest contracted. “Yes.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I know you’d rather have him alive, but he was an amazing soldier. I read the book a few years ago, and I remember the part about him.”
Hot tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away, determined not to cry. “I am very proud of him. He was a good man.”
Nick reached over and squeezed my hand. “Hey. I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
I squeezed back. “It’s okay. I know what you meant; it’s just hard. Not something I’ve ever been able to get used to.”
Letting go of his hand, I pulled a tissue from my purse. Nick said nothing as I dabbed at my eyes and tried to compose myself. “I was angry and depressed for a long time. It’s still hard, and I know I’m often afraid for irrational reasons, but I’ve grown a lot.”
He gave a silent nod, and I continued talking. “After Marcus died, I lived with Bianca until Jillian helped smooth things over with her mother. Then I moved back to the ranch until they offered me the beach house.”
“What do you mean,
smoothed things over
?”
I chastised myself for saying so much, but I had to finish the story. “Well, at first, Luella blamed me for Marcus’s death. Not directly, but he never would’ve joined the military had I not gotten pregnant.”
Nick tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “You never would’ve gotten pregnant had he not impregnated you.”
“True, but Luella lost her son, and . . . well, we all kind of went crazy for awhile. Later, she apologized, insisting she had no right to blame me. But it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re very close, and I’ve forgiven her.”
Nick stared straight ahead. “It was unfair she held you even the least bit responsible for her son’s death. Every soldier accepts risk when he or she joins the army. Especially when they deploy.”
“You’re right.” Nick’s adamant insistence of my innocence both surprised and touched me. I hated seeing him upset by something that’d occurred years ago and was no longer important. At the same time, his loyalty moved me. Nick was the kind of guy who protected his friends.
“I’m glad you worked things out,” he said. “I don’t know if I would’ve been as forgiving.”
“Life is all about forgiveness. People make mistakes, and if you let resentment dominate your thoughts, you’ll be disappointed. Besides, I can’t sit in church every Sunday and not believe in forgiveness.”
He frowned. “Do you go to church every Sunday?”
“I try. Do you?”
His face tensed. “I used to love going, but other than the funeral, I haven’t been in a long time.”
I made a mental note to add
doesn’t go to church
to the list of reasons why I shouldn’t get involved with Nick.
“How long has Jillian been divorced?” he asked, changing the subject.
I gave him odd look. “You like to ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”
“I’m just trying to get to know you better, Anna,” he said with a bashful grin.
My stomach jolted. What was that supposed to mean? Tamping down on my anxiety, I turned the tables and asked a question of my own. “What about you? Have you ever been married or divorced?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No, I’ve always wanted a career in the military.”
“And that means you can’t get married?” I teased. “Is there a new vow of celibacy I’m not aware of?”
He laughed again, the rich, deep sound filling the car. “No, I just think with all the continuous deployments it wouldn’t be fair to a spouse. I think marriage is hard enough without that added pressure, don’t you?”
“Of course, but . . . you
never
intend to marry?”
“My father’s had six wives. I didn’t exactly grow up with the best view of marriage. If I ever marry, my wife would have to understand the sacrifices military spouses endure. And she’d have to be willing to put up with those sacrifices. I think a woman like that would be hard to find.”
I gave an involuntary shudder because I completely agreed with him. Throughout the years, I’d watched my parents struggle with the deployments, politics, and sacrifices of army life; and I’d made those sacrifices myself while married to Marcus.
Moreover, I’d seen Jillian’s marriage crumble under the pressure. So, while I deeply admired military families, army life wasn’t anything I wanted to experience again.
Our conversation drifted to more neutral topics, including the latest product from Apple and a recent movie we both wanted to see. Nick talked about Ranger school and the first time he jumped out of an airplane. I told him about Fin’s Steakhouse, my favorite restaurant on the River Walk in San Antonio.
When we pulled into the parking lot of the adoption agency, disappointment washed over me. We’d had such a nice drive, I’d temporarily put the reason for the trip out of my mind. Now that we’d arrived, I wanted to turn around and go back home.
Nick parked the car next to a hawthorn tree, and as soon as he turned off the engine, Gabby began to cry. She settled down when he leaned into the back seat and unbuckled her.
“Did you have a nice nap, cupcake?” he asked, lifting her into his arms.
She gave a sleepy smile and pointed at me as if surprised I was still there. Leaning forward, I started to kiss her chubby fingers, but before I could, Nick spun her out of my reach.
She chuckled and so did I. Nick grinned at the both of us, and everything inside me melted.
A thick raindrop hit the windshield, causing Gabby to jump. The baby laughed as the rain increased, and I smiled at Nick.
It would not be difficult to fall in love with this man who so easily blended strength with tenderness. Hardening my heart, I looked out the window at the sign for the adoption agency and reminded myself I was here to help Nick. Not to complicate matters.
I
nside the adoption
agency, I entertained Gabby while Nick completed several forms. A young and pregnant girl no older than sixteen sat across from us, playing on her phone. She had well-manicured nails and expensive shoes. Was she here to give up her unborn baby? Maybe she’d changed her mind and had come to cancel her arrangement.
I glanced at Nick, his head bent over the clipboard. Would the agency really be able to find a loving family for the girls?
Nick returned the completed forms to the receptionist and took a seat next to Gabby and me. He unzipped the diaper bag and fixed a bottle as the baby squirmed in anticipation.
“I think she’s hungry,” I said.
“I think you’re right.” He handed Gabby the bottle, and she thrust it into her mouth with a grunt of pleasure. Her wide blue eyes darted between Nick and me as if trying to make sense of it all.
“My little piglet,” he said, smiling as he rubbed a large hand over the baby’s head.
Gabby pushed the bottle out of her mouth and let out a belch. Nick placed a hand over his heart. “Such a talented child,” he teased.
Both Gabby and I giggled.
After a while, the receptionist led us down a carpeted hallway where a tall, thin woman with curly brown hair greeted us. “I’m Lucy Jenson. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Mr. Peterson. This must be Gabby. What a cutie-pie.”
The baby buried her face in my neck and giggled. Nick leaned over and took her from me, leaving me feeling empty.
We entered Lucy’s cheerful office, which was lit by the sun streaming through large windows. Several purple African violets lined the windowsill. Nick and I sat next to each other on a comfy couch while Lucy took the straight-back wooden chair beside us.
With incredible calmness, Nick spoke about his desire for an open adoption, so he could maintain a relationship with his nieces. “Giving them up is a difficult decision, but keeping them isn’t something I can do right now.”
“I completely understand,” Lucy said. “We have a number of families that would meet your criteria and are open to adopting a sibling pair, especially given the girls’ circumstances. Why don’t I take you into our conference room where you can use our computers to get started? Afterwards, we can talk about what appealed to you, and I can get a better sense of what to look for.”
I had a strange feeling of déjà vu. Recently, I’d helped Jillian look for a new house. At the real-estate office, the realtor—whom Jillian was now dating, the one Bianca called Boring Bryan—had said almost the same thing regarding prospective homes. How much more important was this decision than finding a dream house?
Lucy showed us the conference room and issued instructions on how to use the
Family Find Program
. “I’ll come back and check on you in about half an hour, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you.” Nick set Gabby on the floor with a chunky board book, which she promptly stuck in her mouth.
Sitting at separate computers, we scrolled through the list of prospective families. Each profile showed a happy couple, boasting various hobbies, favorite children’s books, and holiday traditions. Many of the couples had posted pictures showing them baking, swimming, and playing at the park with their nieces and nephews.
I never imagined there’d be so many couples looking to adopt a baby. I didn’t know whether I felt sadder for the couples without kids, or those with just one who wanted another child. I’d grown up as an only child, and it’d been lonely. My mother had desperately wanted another baby, but it’d never happened. Had my parents ever considered adoption?
Sometimes I felt sorry Travis was an only child. I consoled myself with the fact that at least he had his cousins, Matt and Drew. When Travis was younger, he often talked about his imaginary brother, but it’d been a long time since he’d mentioned Ole Meatball Tutu. While I had no idea how he’d come up with that crazy name, it made me laugh every time he said it.
As I sifted through the list of families, I could see Hailey and Gabby living with several of them. Maybe adoption was Nick’s best option.
But just like searching for a house, until you met the families face-to-face, how would you know? And even then, it took a while to make a final decision. If Nick was supposed to leave after Christmas, he didn’t have much time. Thanksgiving was next week and Christmas would soon follow.
I clicked on the next page and froze. “I know this couple. It’s the Woodalls. She was Travis’s kindergarten teacher, and he’s a principal at the middle school. They’ve been trying to have a baby for years. They’d be perfect parents for Hailey and Gabby. Nick, take a look.”
Turning my computer screen toward him, I glanced up to gauge his reaction. He gave a cursory glance at the screen, then looked down at Gabby who sat on the floor, pulling out the baby wipes one by one.
“Nick?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Without a word, he leaned over, clasped my hands, and closed his eyes. My heart cracked wide open as he took several ragged breaths.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered.
Gabby crawled across the floor and pulled herself up, using Nick’s leg for balance. He bent down and scooped her into his arms. “Hey, sweetheart.”
I started to ask what he’d meant by not being able to do this, but Lucy entered the room. “How are we doing in here?”
Nick came to his feet and shifted Gabby in his arms. “We need to head back home, but I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Lucy studied him closely. “I know this is an emotional decision for you, Mr. Peterson. Is there anything I can do to help? Anything you need me to clarify or want to discuss?”
“Not now, but I’ll be in touch.”
I put the baby wipes back in the container and repacked the diaper bag. Then Nick and I walked outside. The rain had stopped, and bright sunshine warmed the earth. The grass and trees were green and alive, reminding me of spring instead of late fall.
“Are you okay?” I asked Nick once we reached the car.
He gave a sad smile. “Yes, but I’m hungry. What about you?”
“Starving.”
“And what about you?” he asked Gabby, tickling her tummy. “Are you starving?” She giggled and he kissed her fat little cheek.
Smiling down at me, he said, “I know this fabulous hamburger place. I’m sure it can’t compare to Fin’s Steakhouse on the River Walk, but I’d love to buy you lunch.”
“I’d like that.”
As I climbed into the car, I wondered how many people at the restaurant would assume we were a happy, little family.
I also wondered how wrong it was for part of me to wish it were true.
I
n between clients
at work the next day, I iced my back. Unlike Bianca, who could work for hours without complaint, I often suffered from aches and pains associated with standing on my feet all day, washing, cutting, and coloring hair.
I loved being a hairstylist and making people feel beautiful, but it didn’t compare to flying. No job compared to flying. Completing the Flight Instructor’s training had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done. Afterward, my confidence had exploded, making me believe I could accomplish anything.
And now? Now, I was a mess of nerves and anxiety. As Oprah would say, I wasn’t living my
Best Life.
Rocking side to side in the salon chair, I thought about Nick’s difficult decision regarding the girls. On the drive home, I’d tried talking to him about a few of the prospective families, but he’d quickly changed the subject.
“Don’t look now,” Bianca called, wiping down the front window. “But Mr. Sweet and Spicy is coming this way.”
“Nick?” I asked, my heart involuntarily leaping out of my chest.
“No, not Nick,” she hissed sarcastically. “Some other six-foot, dreamy-eyed, gorgeous hunk of a man who happens to be into you.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s not
into
me.”
“
Please
.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like he’s going to stay. Eventually, he’ll go back to the army, and you know how I feel about that.”
Bianca batted the air with disgust. “Until then, would it be so wrong to enjoy a little romance with the man?”
“Romance?”
“Yes. Dinner, dancing, a little handholding. Maybe a little walk on the beach or a little kissing under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the salon. Nothing permanent or too serious, but an enjoyable short-term diversion.”