Christina
One
As Curt listened to the attorney he’d contacted to explain the probable timeline, he pulled the painters’ tape off the wood trim around the bedroom window. He’d done so much painting over the past few years, he rarely used it these days. If he’d done all the work in here alone, he wouldn’t have used it over the weekend either, but he’d had a nine-year-old helper painting the room.
“Are there any other questions I can answer for you?” Christian asked.
Not wanting to simply do an internet search for adoption attorneys in New Hampshire, Curt had called his cousin Derek, an attorney in Providence, yesterday. Although Derek didn’t practice in New Hampshire, he knew plenty of attorneys who did. Within a matter of a few hours, Derek had called him back with Christian Stratford’s name and number. According to Derek’s contacts, there wasn’t anyone better than Christian in the state when it came to adoptions and family law. And first thing this morning, he’d called the office and left a message with the man’s secretary. Christian had called him back about an hour ago, and they’d been speaking ever since.
“No, I think you answered all the ones I have for now.” Tossing the tape in the trash bag, he gave Honey, the yellow lab he’d adopted in September, a scratch behind the ears before he started removing the tape from around another window.
“Do you want me to start the process?”
The word yes almost slipped out of his mouth because there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he wanted to adopt Reese. In all the ways that mattered, he already considered the girl his daughter and had for a while now. However, before he gave the lawyer the green light, he needed to discuss it with Taylor. While he didn’t expect any objections from his fiancée, it was a conversation they needed to have because, as Reese’s legal guardian, she had the final say in the matter. Actually, she wasn’t the only one he planned to talk to. Reese might only be nine, but it seemed only right that he asked her if she wanted to legally be his daughter and take his last name. Again, much like with his fiancée, he didn’t expect any objections, but he’d been wrong in the past.
“Not just yet.” He’d spent most of the past month thinking about it, so another few days wouldn’t make a difference. “But I’ll be in touch soon, either way.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be here when you’re ready. And if you think of any other questions or if your fiancée wants to speak with me, just call.”
“I will, thank you.”
Curt finished pulling the tape from the second window and stepped into the center of the bedroom. Sometime in July, he’d completed the renovations in his office and his bedroom. With those two areas out of the way, he’d turned his attention to getting a room ready for Reese. And since she’d be calling it her bedroom for at least the next nine or ten years, he’d let her first pick which of the five empty bedrooms she wanted, and then he’d included her in as much of the remodeling process as possible. Although compared to some of the other rooms in the home, the one she picked had required little aside from refinishing the hardwood floors, new light fixtures, and a fresh coat of paint.
Regardless, he’d made some significant changes; the most substantial of which had been converting the extra office located between this room and another bedroom into a bathroom. Although Reese would have to share the bathroom if he and Taylor ever had children and they moved into the room on the other side of the bathroom, at least for the time being, she’d have it all to herself—a situation she was looking forward to. The other major change he’d made had been at Reese’s request. Her best friend, Hazel, had a window seat in her bedroom. Naturally, when he and Reese began discussing plans for her new room, she’d asked if he could build her a window seat too. For better or worse, he found it difficult to say no whenever Reese asked for anything—not that she did it often, which was probably a good thing. It’d required some creative thinking, but he’d managed to build her one that also doubled as extra storage and had two built-in bookcases on either side of it. The girl was an avid reader and owned more books than many adults.
While he would’ve chosen a different color for the walls, overall, he was pleased with the way the room turned out. More importantly, Reese loved it. Not only had she told him as much, but he’d overheard her telling Hazel how great it was and how she couldn’t wait to show her while he was driving the two girls home from soccer practice last week. He suspected she’d love the room even more when her new furniture arrived on Thursday and after they put the decals she’d picked out on the walls, which was something he expected her to ask if they could do tonight when he picked her up from soccer practice. She’d asked to do it on Sunday afternoon as soon as they finished painting. If she brought it up, he’d let her get started after she finished her homework.
Since Reese’s winter soccer league had started, he’d been picking her and Hazel up from p
ractice on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Unlike the team she played for in the fall and spring, which practiced only in town and not until about five o’clock, her winter team started its practice after school at an indoor sporting complex about twenty minutes away. If the coach had held practices any other days, his future mother-in-law could’ve gotten Reese to and from soccer practice, but back in September, her schedule had changed. Now she worked at the library on Tuesdays and Thursdays until it closed at seven. Rather than force Reese to quit the team, they’d arranged for Hazel’s mom to bring the girls to practice, and then he picked them up. And if he hoped to make it to the sports facility on time, he needed to leave now.
A chilly thirty-five degrees greeted him when he stepped out of his car. It was the first time he’d been outside all day. With his and Taylor’s wedding so close, he wanted the initial draft of his current manuscript finished before they left for their honeymoon—a manuscript he’d hoped to be much farther along with by now. But between wedding preparations and assisting with his uncle’s reelection campaign, he’d fallen behind. Now he had to play catch-up, an activity he hated, because whenever he felt rushed, the creative side of his brain often went on strike. So far, writer’s block hadn’t struck, and he had his fingers crossed it wouldn’t. Especially since not long after they returned from their honeymoon, they were taking Reese to the theme parks in Florida for a week.
The temperature inside the facility wasn’t much better than the one outside. He’d learned from watching many of Reese’s games last winter that either the HVAC system in the complex was insufficient for the building's size or it needed additional insulation. More than once, he and Taylor had kept their winter jackets on while they watched Reese play.
Several other parents, many he’d come to know, already sat on the bleachers waiting for practice to end, and he didn’t hesitate to join them.
“Do you think they’ll finish on time tonight?” William, the father of one of Reese’s teammates, asked, glancing over at him. Unlike some of the other girls Reese played with in the winter, William’s daughter was also on Reese’s town travel team, so of all the parents there, Curt knew him the best.
Coach Bruno and his assistant coach did an excellent job with the girls, but when it came to keeping track of time, forget it. If Curt knew the man better, he’d suggest the coach set a timer, so he knew when to end the practice.
“Last week they managed to on Thursday night, so it’s possible. But I wouldn’t bet on it.”
William gestured toward the field. “It’s crazy how much Reese has improved in the past few weeks.”
Curt watched Reese in goal, a somewhat new position for her. In the past, she’d always preferred to play the position of striker, but after spending time with his sister’s stepdaughter, who loved to play goalie, she’d asked her coach if she could give it a try. Now, it was one of her favorite positions, and she seemed to get better at it every time he saw her play it.
“By the time the spring season starts, she’s going to be better than both Hannah and Cassidy,” William continued, referring to the two primary goalies on their other team.
Pride surged through him. “A lot of that is thanks to Coach Laurie. Reese told me that for the first thirty minutes of practice on Thursdays, Coach Laurie works with her and the other two goalies. She’s also been practicing at home whenever she can get someone to kick balls at her.”
“The RedHawks should do the same thing. I don’t think the goalies get any specific training.”
Out on the turf, the coach blew his whistle, ending the scrimmage on the field. Like most afternoons, the girls took their time getting to the sideline. From what he’d observed, every practice was about socializing as much as it was soccer. All the girls spent whatever time they could talking and joking around. He’d played enough team sports to know comradery amongst players helped make a better team, but some nights he just wanted to leave as soon as Coach Bruno ended the practice. And once Reese and Hazel started talking to their friends, some of whom they didn’t go to school with and only saw here, it was hard to get them out of the building.
“They ended on time twice in a row. Maybe Coach Bruno is turning over a new leaf,” William said as he stood. “If I don’t remind Malory we need to pick up her sister, she’ll sit over there all night. I’ll see you on Thursday.”