LeMans was all too aware that he’d been chosen by this woman in the midst of a crisis merely because he lived in Fort Wayne and had been recommended by the Walkers. He doubted Mrs. Marquette had given a thought to the fact that his African-American heritage in large part dictated his clientele. He didn’t want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was, but he felt he needed to broach the subject. Shifting uneasily in his chair, he cleared his throat. “As you might guess, Mrs. Marquette, most of my clients are African-American. I assume that you are hoping for a white couple to adopt your child?”
“Oh, well…I …” She paused, obviously taken off guard by his question. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. You came highly recommended by the Walkers,” she explained. “But, yes, I guess my feeling is that it would be easier for the child if he were placed with parents of the same race.”
“That’s fine,” he said, holding up a hand to reassure her. “I tend to agree with you, but I just wanted to be certain of your intentions. Shouldn’t be a problem. I have a number of colleagues who practice here in Fort Wayne who handle adoptions regularly. I have no doubt that between us we’ll be able to give you the names of any number of couples for interviews. I’m sure you’re aware of the long waiting lists for healthy babies. And with an open adoption you will, of course, have the final say on the couple to whom your child will go.”
Again, she nodded wordlessly. She seemed nervous and close to tears. He could scarcely imagine how difficult this must be for her. He thought of his own wife—Margie was just a year younger than Mrs. Marquette—and wondered how he could ever accept something so horrifying happening to her—to them. Silently, he vowed to do everything within his power to help this woman and her husband get through the difficult days ahead.
He reviewed his role in the Walker adoption with Anna Marquette, outlining the legal and financial aspects, as Daniel had permitted him to do.
“You realize there’s a possibility that your particular case may be classified as an interstate adoption, especially since it is your intention to return to Chicago after the birth… Indiana has no residency law stated for adoption, per se, but I’ll have to do some checking into Illinois statutes. That may change some of the time frames we’ll be working with, but I’ll find out about that, and we’ll get started as soon as possible with some resumés for you to look at.”
He explained his fee structure and gave her some documents to read and have her husband look over before signing. “Again,” he explained, “the interstate nature of this case may affect some of the procedures, but since you were married at the time of the conception and birth, Indiana law automatically presumes your husband to be the father of the child. He has both rights and responsibilities toward the child, and we will, therefore, need his consent in order for an adoption to be legally sound. That shouldn’t pose a problem. I assume he is willing to sign adoption papers?”
“Oh yes,” she stammered. “Yes, of course. It’s a decision we made together.”
“Good.” He steepled his fingers over his desk. “Now, I think the next thing that might help us make some headway is to make up a list of qualifications that you would like the prospective parents to meet. We’ve established that you’d prefer a white couple.” He scribbled a notation on a yellow legal pad. “Other things you might consider: is a particular religious persuasion important? Do you wish for there to be other children in the family? Do you have objections to a prospective mother working outside the home or a father who travels a great deal?” He enumerated the list on long tapered fingers. “We’ll make every effort to see that your child is placed in the kind of home you want him to be raised in.”
“Do… do you want me to list those things right now?” she asked uncertainly.
“You may if you wish, or if you’d like some time to think about it and talk it over with your husband, you can bring me a list whenever it’s convenient. Let’s see…” He glanced over the brief notes he’d taken earlier when Daniel had presented the situation to him. “The baby isn’t due until December thirteenth. Is that correct?”
Again, Anna nodded silently.
“There’s no rush,” he said kindly. “You take your time and make sure about this. There will always be couples waiting for babies, but you will only make this decision once. You just take your time,” he repeated.
Mrs. Marquette rose to her feet. “Thank you so much,” she said. “I do want to talk this over with my husband. Paul will be here this weekend, so we’ll try to make some decisions, and I’ll get back to you next week. Will that be all right?”
“Absolutely.”
When they parted, her handshake was firm, and he thought he saw a growing confidence in her eyes. It was rewarding to know he would play an important role in helping this woman through a very difficult crisis.
Paul and Anna sat on the sofa in the apartment, stockinged feet tucked under them, legal pads spread in front of them. It was Paul’s third weekend in New Haven, and they’d spent the entire time designing a composite of the perfect mother and father.
“Okay,” Paul said, all business. “Read what we have so far.”
Anna leafed past the early drafts of their list to the neat row of attributes they had composed. She read the checklist aloud to him with detached objectivity. “Must be devout Christians who will raise the child in the Christian faith; prefer couple who have been married at least seven or eight years, with no history of marital problems; prefer well-educated couple; must be financially stable couple; siblings okay, but not essential; prefer supportive grandparents living nearby; prefer home in a rural community or small town …”
She looked up at him. “What else?”
“Do you think we should say something like about there being no opposition from close family members to the fact that the baby was conceived by rape?”
She hadn’t thought of that. “Definitely. Oh, Paul… It would be awful if this baby was rejected by his own family.” The fierce sense of protection she’d begun to feel for this growing life, reared up.
She started to add the requirement to the list. But she stopped abruptly and looked at him. “Do you think we’re being too particular?” She tapped the list to emphasize her point. “At the rate we’re going, you and I wouldn’t even qualify.” She smiled, but her question was serious.
“I know it sounds like we’re asking for a lot, Anna,” Paul answered, “but these aren’t hard-and-fast requirements. We’re just making a wish list. Maybe we could divide it into two separate lists,” he mused aloud. “One listing the absolutes, the other would be things we’re willing to compromise on.”
Anna nodded and began writing at the top of yet another clean sheet of yellow legal paper, this time dividing the page into two separate columns. By the time they were finished, they’d concluded that the only things they were truly unwilling to compromise on were that the couple raise the child in the Christian faith, and that there be no history of marital problems. Some of the other things were more important to one or the other of them, but they decided those issues would wait until they met the couples before deciding what was acceptable and what was not.
Anna sighed and leaned her head on Paul’s shoulder. Sometimes she wondered if they would ever get through this.
One thing was clear: they would not get through it unchanged.
“Come on, Anna. Just say yes, and I’ll quit bugging you.”
Tanya Walker stood in the living room of Anna’s apartment, hands on hips and exasperation in her voice. She had been trying to talk Anna into joining them for supper all week, and now, though Tanya’s voice held teasing annoyance, Anna knew that her continued refusals were becoming truly frustrating to her generous landlady. But she felt she’d already imposed on them enough. They’d invited her to picnic with them on the deck several times during her first couple of weeks in New Haven, and she’d happily accepted those invitations. But she didn’t intend to make a habit of imposing on them. She certainly didn’t want them to regre
t having asked her to live in the apartment.
Now, Anna sighed and smiled weakly. “I really do appreciate the invitation, Tanya. Just please don’t go to any trouble. You’re treating me like an honored guest, and I never intended that to be our arrangement.”
“Just hush, Anna. I wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t want you to come. Besides, since when do honored guests spend their evenings baby-sitting free for the hosts’ ornery little boy?” She gave Anna a jubilant smile that said “Aha! I got you on that one.” Before Anna could argue, Tanya continued, “And don’t worry, I promise you filet mignon and créme brûlée are not on the menu. In fact, I’ll probably just toss a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and some Cheetos out on the table.”
Anna laughed. “You know, that actually sounds pretty good.”
“You are hopeless,” Tanya snorted, rolling her eyes. She playfully picked up a small throw pillow from the couch and tossed it across the room at Anna.
In the few short weeks she’d been in New Haven, Anna had grown to love Tanya Walker. The young woman reminded her more of Emma every day. She had the same easygoing playful manner, and like her mother, Tanya made Anna feel comfortable just being herself. It was such a blessing not to have to work at being friendly and cheerful when she so often didn’t feel that way. And yet, Tanya’s joking allowed Anna to put her worries aside for a few minutes each day and just enjoy some plain old fun.
Tanya looked at her watch. “Oh my goodness!” she said with feigned astonishment. “I’d better get up there and get the silver polished and the crystal washed.”
“Oh, you!” Anna laughed. She lobbed the pillow back in Tanya’s direction, but Tanya was already halfway up the stairs, and the cushion hit the door as it closed behind her.
A week after Anna delivered their list to Walter LeMans’s office, Daniel brought home a thick folder for Anna, accompanied by a short note from the attorney. LeMans had sent resumés of three couples for her to look over, telling her he felt any one of the couples would be excellent prospects.
When Anna called Paul that evening to tell him, she was surprised that her hands were trembling. Having actual names of prospective parents made it all so real. Here in her fingers were brief biographies of six complete strangers––and she was going to hand her baby over to two of them. She put a protective hand over her belly and sat down on the sofa in the tiny apartment to look over the papers.
Her study and knowledge of psychology made these glimpses into other people’s lives intriguing. If she could just be objective about this, it would be fascinating.
The first resumé was from a couple in their early thirties, Tom and Wendy Scott. Tom was an engineer, and Wendy taught English at a private high school in Fort Wayne. Though Wendy’s biography stated that she loved her job, it also assured that Tom’s salary was large enough that Wendy hoped to stay home when they had children. The couple had been trying to conceive for three years, and there didn’t seem to be any medical reason for their infertility. They were just beginning the adoption process, and though they had their name listed with two agencies, they liked the idea of open adoption, and for that reason felt they might have more success going through a private attorney.
As Anna read about the couple’s hobbies, self-identified strengths and weaknesses, and their brief philosophy of child-rearing, it struck her that no intelligent person would state on a resumé of this kind that she had a raging temper, for instance, or that her main weakness was deceitfulness. Instead, their lists of weaknesses were couched in euphemisms intended to be perceived as strengths. Tom’s weakness was that he tended to be a perfectionist. Who wouldn’t want a father who strove for perfection? Wendy’s statement about her weakness was “I sometimes worry too much, and am overly cautious, at the expense of not taking risks that might have positive results.” It was obvious this was intended to convey the assurance that a child would be unquestionably safe with such a conscientious mother.
Though Anna knew that she herself would have filled out such a questionnaire in exactly the same way, she found herself wishing to see an honest admission of weakness, an honest assessment of human frailty. Perhaps then she wouldn’t wonder what actual weakness lurked in each applicant’s personality.
She glanced briefly through the other two resumés. On paper, each couple glowed. Even the attached photographs didn’t give Anna a clue as to the true character of each subject. They were all well-dressed, smiling, hand-in-hand or arm-in-arm, looking happily married and stable.
By nine o’clock, Anna was too exhausted to read any more. This was too difficult. She couldn’t make a decision of this magnitude on her own.
She tossed the stack of folders on the coffee table and wearily went back to the bedroom.
Chapter 17
“Oh, look, Mom. Isn’t this darling?” Kassandra pointed to a headless mannequin sporting a stretch-denim maternity jumper that accentuated the very pregnant figure of the model. They were shopping at Glenbrook Square in Fort Wayne. Kassi had flown into the city after her last class the day before, and Anna rented a car in New Haven and picked up her daughter at the airport.
Paul had flown out of Chicago on Friday morning and wouldn’t be back until late Monday afternoon, unable to get out of a weekend conference with a client in Dallas. It was the first time since Anna had been in New Haven that he hadn’t been there on the weekend. She’d dreaded the thought of a long weekend alone in the apartment, so she was especially grateful for her daughter’s presence now.
After a leisurely breakfast that morning, Anna happily suggested their favorite activity together—shopping.
Now she looked dubiously at the maternity outfit Kassi was admiring. “Honey, at my age, darling isn’t exactly what I’m going for.”
Kassi laughed and began to browse through the merchandise displayed on the racks. She picked up a simply tailored navy and white dress. “How about this?”
“That’s better,” Anna said, considering the possibility. She took the dress from Kassi and held it at arm’s length. She squinted, trying to imagine how it would look on her. “Oh… I do like that—as far as maternity clothes go,” she added sardonically. “What size is it?”
Anna had always been slim, and until now, she’d been able to get by wearing a few of her loose-fitting outfits. In the past weeks, though, her waistline had ballooned at an alarming rate.
With her other pregnancies, she’d begun to wear maternity clothes in her fourth month—not out of necessity, but because she wanted to announce to the whole world that she was expecting a baby. She’d loved the flowing feminine lines of maternity smocks, and they had flattered her lithe frame. Now she was grateful that until now she’d been able to hide her condition under layers of loose tops and sweaters—grateful, too, for the cooler days since she’d arrived in Indiana, which made their wearing acceptable. But there was no question that the inevitable undisguisable changes in her figure had taken place. It was time to shop for bona fide maternity clothes.
Anna hadn’t seen either of her daughters since she’d left Chicago almost eight weeks ago. She had been afraid that Kassi would be uncomfortable with her now obvious pregnancy, and she’d hesitated at even allowing Kassi to come to New Haven. But the truth was, she missed the girls terribly. Both of them.
She’d secretly hoped Kassi might persuade Kara to come along. But while she hoped for that, she dreaded it too. Kara would not be able to ignore Anna’s figure and the significance it held. And Anna didn’t feel strong enough for another confrontation with her headstrong daughter.
Kassi had arrived at the airport alone. Anna rushed forward and hugged her tightly, struggling for composure. As she released her daughter from her embrace, she saw the look of shock on Kassi’s face, as she stared down at Anna’s round belly.
“Kind of hard to get your arms around me now, huh?” Anna joked.
Kassi looked embarrassed, but a smile caught the corners of her mouth. “You’re big as a barn, Mom!”
Her candor had broken the ice, and they’d dissolved in laughter and walked down the concourse arm in arm, back to “normal” again. Whatever that was.
Now she and Kassi were enjoying a wonderfully close time, shopping and visiting together.
Kassi had found several outfits on sale for herself, and Anna splurged and bought her daughter an expensive pair of running shoes. Now they were shopping for Anna. She was determined not to spend a lot of money on this necessary but short-lived wardrobe, and she’d already found several pieces that would work together well and that weren’t too terribly expensive.
She tried on the navy dress and was pleased with Kassi’s genuine compliments. Anna and Paul had begun going to church with Daniel and Tanya on Sunday mornings, and it would be nice to have something new to wear. She added the dress to her purchases, and mother and daughter walked back through the department store toward the entrance that opened into the enclosed mall.
As they passed the department store’s cosmetic counter, a heavily made-up young woman stopped them. She wore a black smock over stylish designer jeans, and her russet hair was a mass of lacquered curls. She carried a basket brimming with colorful pamphlets and small vials of cologne.
“How are you ladies today? Would you like to sample our fragrance special of the week?” Before they could respond, she hurried on with her well-rehearsed, animated sales pitch. “This is a wonderful fragrance for that special man in your life. It’s called Apres Midi and has a clean citrus scent with woodsy undertones. Now this is available in several forms. The sample I’m giving you …” Ceremoniously, she handed each of them one of the glass vials attached to a leaflet picturing a muscular male model posing by a forest stream. The young woman continued with her spiel. “Now this is the cologne, but we also have after-shave and a body splash available if you prefer.”
They thanked her for the samples and hurried away, exchanging smiles over the girl’s dramatic presentation. When they were out of hearing distance, Kassi opened her vial and waved her hands in a snippy imitation of the salesgirl. “A clean citrus scent with woodsy undertones,” she singsonged as the cologne splashed out of the vial. “Ugh! This stuff is awful!” She gave a comical grimace.
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