His lip curled. ‘So you want to sell our kid?’
‘It’s not like that.’ Why did he have to act like I was happy about this? Didn’t he realize how it was tearing me up inside so I didn’t know if I’d ever put myself together again? I’d just be bits and broken pieces. ‘There’s a limit to how much you can take from the adoptive parents. Usually it’s just the basics covered – hospital costs, maternity clothes, that kind of stuff, plus help with bills if you need it. And we do.’
Kevin shrugged like it didn’t matter, but we both knew it did. ‘And this baby would have a really good life,’ I pressed on. ‘We could be happy about that.’
‘Better than I could provide, you mean.’
‘Well, yes.’ How could I not admit that? ‘But it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It just… is. Wouldn’t it be nice to know this baby is having a good life?’ A better life, maybe, than the three girls we’d kept, although I didn’t say that. I tried not to think it.
Kevin didn’t speak for a long moment and then he picked up the remote control. ‘Do whatever you want,’ he said, and clicked the power button. A second later the room was filled with the sound of football. I stood there for a few seconds, fighting both fury and despair, wanting to say something to get him out of his sorry-for-himself stupor, even if it was something mean, but I stayed silent. It wasn’t worth it, even if I felt like screaming at him that I couldn’t keep everything going. I couldn’t keep doing this all on my own.
I walked into the dining room and I emailed Open Hearts to ask Tina for an appointment. When I told Kevin he had to go in with me, he just nodded. In the office, a few days later, he stayed sullenly silent, and didn’t even look at Tina or me, just scrawled his name. Later, when he’d left the room, Tina said something about needing to make sure he was okay with this, and I shook my head.
‘We’re having a hard time with a lot of stuff,’ I told her, trying to keep my voice firm and sure. ‘But this is what we need to do. Kevin knows that.’
‘Do you know that, Heather?’ Tina’s voice sounded too gentle, and I forced myself to meet her compassionate gaze without flinching, or worse, falling apart.
‘Yes, I do. It’s a hard decision, of course it is, but…’ My voice wobbled and I took a quick, steadying breath. ‘I’ve come to terms with it. I have.’
At least, I thought I had. I’d told myself I had. But now that I’ve met Grace Thomas, seen her apartment, heard her talk? She was so elegant and self-assured, everything I’ve never been able to be, not that I’d even know how to try. How do her clothes look so smooth, like they’ve never seen a wrinkle? And her hair is so shiny.
But she also seemed untouchable and a little brittle, and I wonder how she’ll be as a mom. Will she love my baby? Will she be able to handle the nighttime feeds and all the poop and puke and whining, the way it never, ever stops, even when they get older? Especially when they get older. I can’t picture it, but maybe I just don’t want to.
‘So are you happy to proceed?’ Tina asks as we step out onto Fifth Avenue, a freezing wind funneling down the sidewalk. ‘You can think about it, of course, and talk to Kevin. And if you’d like to meet with Grace again…’
Suddenly I am filled with panic. I didn’t ask Grace anything. I don’t even know why she wants to adopt, or what kind of mother she’ll be. Will she have a nanny? Is she good at hugs? Does she have a boyfriend? I am completely, utterly ignorant. And I’m meant to hand her my baby in a couple of months?
‘Heather?’ Tina looks at me, her face filled with concern. I whirl around, some desperate part of me intent on going back into Grace’s building, marching right up to her front door. But then I see her coming out, an expensive-looking leather bag over one shoulder. She is cradling her cell phone between her shoulder and ear as she waves down a taxi with her free arm. Before I even know what I am doing, I stride up to her.
‘Heather—’ Tina calls, sounding alarmed, but I don’t listen.
‘Grace.’ My voice comes out loud and hard. She looks up, her eyes widening. She drops her arm and says something into the phone, ending the call, before sliding the phone into her blazer pocket.
‘Heather.’
We stare at each other, two women, both wanting something. Grace’s expression is calm and steady, almost as if she expected this. I know I must look wild.
‘You never told me why you want to adopt. Why you want a baby.’ I’m breathing hard, ragged gasps tearing through me as I practically glare at her.
Grace hesitates, as if she’s thinking through her options, and then she settles on the truth. I see it in the way her shoulders square, her jaw sets. ‘Because my father died a few months ago and I realized how alone I was. Am. I work a lot, I don’t have any family and not even that many friends. My dad was everything to me, the best dad I could have asked for. And now I want a chance to be the best mom.’ She lifts her chin a little. ‘I know I probably don’t seem very maternal to you, and the truth is I’ve barely even held a baby before. But I know I’ll love this child with everything I have. Every breath, every heartbeat.’
The air rushes out of me; I feel relieved, because I believe her, and I needed her to say that, as much as it hurts.
‘Now it’s your turn,’ Grace says, surprising me. ‘Why, really, did you choose me, a single career woman, to be the adoptive mother?’ She eyes me appraisingly and I decide on honesty, just as she did. Maybe it will draw us together in some strange way.
‘Because I didn’t want to give my baby to a couple who already has everything, who would be like Kev and me, only a better version. It’s hard enough as it is.’ I meet her gaze unflinchingly. ‘You’re different. I won’t… I won’t compare myself to you all the time. And you might have a lot, I know that, but you don’t have something that I have.’ I realize how petty that makes me sound, and I bite my lip. ‘It makes it easier somehow, and I need this to be easier. Otherwise I don’t think I can do it at all.’
Grace nods slowly, accepting. Understanding. ‘Okay,’ she says, and waits. Another tense second passes; I feel as if we’re both standing on a set of teetering scales.
‘Okay,’ I finally reply, a farewell, and then I turn back to Tina, who is waiting a few yards back, looking uncertain. I nod at her; I feel strangely satisfied, even though the pain is still there. It always will be.
‘I want to go ahead,’ I tell her, and keep walking.
‘You know,’ Tina says once we’re at the car, ‘it would be a really nice gesture to invite Grace to your ultrasound. Isn’t it next week?’
‘Okay,’ I say as I hunch my shoulders against that unforgiving wind. ‘Can you ask her?’
Back at home Kevin flicks a glance my way and then back at the TV. ‘How did it go?’ he asks after a second, his voice low, and my jaw practically drops because he’s acknowledging that this is happening. Sort of.