“Tell me you aren’t kidding!” She squeals.
“Baby girl, I may not be the funniest guy around, but I believe I have a better sense of humor than that.”
She throws her arms around me and squeezes me tight, “Liam, oh my God. I’m so happy.”
I hold her close, “Baby girl, that’s all I want.”
“Go get dressed. I’ll make coffee.”
“Where are we going?” She asks as she pulls back to look at me.
“I thought you might want to go tell our Princess that it’s time to come home. I need to call Isabella and tell her to set up an extra place tonight,” I wink at her and leave her to shower while I start the coffee.
As it’s brewing, I call Xander.
“What do you want, asshole? I have surgery in twenty minutes.”
“That’s a rude way to answer the phone. Let Isabella know that we will be bringing Ivy to dinner tonight.”
“Does that mean?”
I chuckle, “It does. We are going to the hospital shortly to bring her home.”
“I know Mercy must be happy but are you okay with this? That’s going to be a big adjustment.”
I grab our cups and pour the coffee, “I just happen to love this kid. But Mercy is so fucking happy. So even if I didn’t want her here, I’d deal with it.”
“I have to go. I’m happy for you. See you later.”
“Alright, bye,” I disconnect the call and place Mercy’s coffee on the island while I sip my own.
She comes in and picks up her cup, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I have to go get ready. Give me five minutes.”
“Okay,” she says.
I go to the bedroom and get ready as fast as humanly possible. I know she won’t want to wait. I’m sure my girl is itching to see Ivy.
When I walk back into the kitchen, her back is turned to me. I take a moment and just stare at my beautiful girl, drinking her coffee.
“Are you going to stand there and gawk all day?”
“I might,” I said dryly.
She turns to me with a huge grin on her face. It’s been hard for her to stay patient with this situation. It’s time to give her what she so badly wants.
“Let's go, baby girl. Let’s get our Princess.”
As we drive to the hospital, she rambles endlessly, “Oh God, what if she doesn’t want us to be her foster parents. Maybe she will wish she could go home with her mom. I mean that would be normal even if her mom is an abusive bitch. What if she hates living with us? Oh my-”
“Baby girl, take a breath.”
She intakes a breath, and I chuckle.
“She has to go to a foster home. Going home with her mom is not an option. She adores you. I guarantee you, if she could pick her foster home, she would pick you. Relax, babe. It’s going to be okay.”
I pull into the parking lot and park. Getting out, I go around to her side and open the door. When she gets out, I pull her into my arms, “It’s going to be okay, baby girl. You’ll see.”