His complexion was pale, his eyes glazed. “We’ll need to talk things over. Give us a few days to think things through. You . . . you’ve taken us by surprise.”
“Dallas?” Her voice quavered against her will. But, what was he thinking? If they lost the chance to take this baby because they weren’t ready to commit . . . Healthy American babies didn’t come along every day. And this was Austin’s brother or sister!
Without acknowledging Danae, he told the social worker, “This is not something we can decide on the spot.”
Danae looked from him to the social worker. “May I have a few minutes to speak with my husband in the hall?”
Carol’s lips were pressed into a hard line, but she pushed her chair back. “I’ll see if I can get another consultation room. It’s understandable you’re feeling a little blindsided.”
“Dallas, please . . .” Misty pleaded.
Danae didn’t remember ever hearing her call him by name.
“You wouldn’t separate my babies, would you?” Misty’s expression was distraught. “This is the last thing I can give Austin. It’s the only way I can go on—if I know they’ll have each other. Be raised together. Please. Danae? I don’t have anybody else. You know that.”
“Dallas?” Danae gripped his knee under the table. Hard. “Let’s talk about this, please.” Why was he hesitating? He’d been the one to convince her that they should take Austin. How was this any different? It wasn’t. It was better. It was an answer to prayer. An ending to their quest for children. An ending that made everything they’d been through make sense! She would have Austin, but she would have a precious baby to love as well. How could he even hesitate?
The social worker excused herself and went into the hall.
“Why are you changing your mind?” Misty asked, looking hard at Dallas.
“How can you say ‘changing your mind’ when this was something we knew nothing about? Why didn’t you tell us?”
She looked at the table where her handcuffed wrists rested. “I wasn’t absolutely sure I was pregnant until I saw the doctor. Here in the jail.”
Something was off. Danae didn’t think she was being completely honest. “You said you’re due in April? Misty, that means you’re . . . six months along. How could you not have known? Did Hank know?” Maybe she shouldn’t have asked, but she needed to know.
But Misty didn’t reply. They waited in awkward silence, each of them avoiding the eyes of the other two in the room.
Finally Carol returned. She stood holding the door open and motioned to Dallas and Danae. “Come this way and I’ll show you to a room where you can talk.”
They followed her blindly out into the hallway.
“I’m sorry to spring this on you.” The social worker shook her head, looking almost as stricken as Danae felt. “Like I said, I just found out this morning myself. I’ve landed in some crazy situations in this job, but in all my years, I’ve never had anything like this.”
“I don’t see how they couldn’t have known.”
“You’ve got me,” Carol said. She riffled the edges of the sheaf of papers she carried. “With the baby due in April, we’re really going to be pushing the clock to get everything in order in time. The home study and background checks you’ve had for Austin’s guardianship should be valid for the infant’s adoption as well. But I’ll have to do some checking to be sure. I’d like to get any additional paperwork started as soon as possible.”
25
A guard led them down the hall to a room almost identical to the one where they’d left Misty.
“Ring this buzzer when you’re finished. We’ll escort you back to the other room.” He closed the door behind him, and a metallic click sounded.
Danae looked at Dallas. “Did they just lock us in?”
He shrugged. “Probably.”
She took a chair at the table in the center of the small office, but Dallas paced the length of the room, head down.
“What are you thinking? Why are you so hesitant?” He’d suddenly become a stranger to her.
“Do you remember when we talked to Misty the first time we came here, right after her arrest?”
“Yes.”
“She said something then. She said, ‘I want my kids to have a future. I don’t want them growing up like I did.’ ” He looked up, met her eyes. “Danae, she knew then. She said ‘kids,’ plural. She knew she was pregnant. She’s had this up her sleeve all along.”
“You mean, getting us to take her kids.”
He nodded. “Maybe it was her contingency plan—if she didn’t get away with Hank’s murder. But she’s smarter than she lets on.”
“But what does that have to do with us taking the baby?” She rose, feeling antsy, almost frantic. If they didn’t decide in the next few minutes they might lose the chance to take this baby.
Dallas crossed to the window and looked out to the street below. Without turning, he spoke. So softly she had to strain to hear.
“Austin, we know,” Dallas said. “But, we don’t know anything about this baby. If I’m figuring out the timing of everything right, Hank beat her while she was pregnant. What if something happened to the baby? What if that damaged it?”
“Dallas, I seriously doubt any—”
“And you think Hank is the father of this baby? What if his anger issues, his abusive personality—what if that’s genetic? Nobody really knows, do they? We sure don’t. We haven’t had time to check any of this out.”
“But Dallas, how can we take Austin and not take this baby? Would he ever forgive us, once he knows he has a sibling? He’s lost so much already. Would you really take this away from him too?” She felt like she was manipulating him, but these were legitimate questions.
“We don’t even know for sure if Hank is the father, but if he is, he may have family that have rights to the baby first.” He still wouldn’t turn to face her.
“No, he doesn’t.” She took a step closer to him, testing. “Misty said, back at the shelter, that Hank’s parents were both gone. No other relatives would have rights over what Misty wants. And she’s made it clear she wants us to take her baby.”
“OK, but just be realistic for a minute. What if something is wrong with the baby? If we agree to this, and then the baby is born with . . . defects, or something that required long-term care, would we still be obligated?”
She had to admit, in the brief time they’d known there was a baby at stake, she’d only imagined a perfect, beautiful child. A cross between Misty and Austin. Still, it didn’t make any difference to her if the baby was perfect. “If I were pregnant, Dallas, we’d face that same possibility. You wouldn’t reject our baby if it turned out to have something wrong with it. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Of course not, but that’s different. Totally different.”
“I’m not sure it is.” She didn’t like the way he was thinking. And she didn’t understand it. He’d embraced the idea of raising Austin so wholly—even before she had. Why did he have such cold feet when it came to a baby? A baby! The very thing they’d been trying for all along! It didn’t make sense.
Finally he turned to face her, bracing his hands on the window ledge behind him. “Have you thought about this? If we take these kids in, we’re as good as adopting Misty too.”
“You’re the one who told Misty we’d bring Austin to visit her. Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. That, and . . . we’d have a tie to her—because of the kids—that would be forever. How would you feel about that?”
She hadn’t considered it. Hadn’t had time to consider anything. How had he come up with all these questions—all these roadblocks—in the short space of time since they’d learned about Misty’s baby?
“I guess . . .” She sorted through her thoughts, wanting to speak truth, not just to say what would get him to agree to taking that baby. “To be honest, I wish we could break all ties with her. I wish we could adopt Austin, and this baby, as our own. That’s what would be
easiest. For us. Her attorney doesn’t think she’ll ever get out. But what if she does? What if she gets off on some technicality? That scares me. I admit.”
He nodded. “Me too. But—and this sounds awful to say, but honestly, chances are very good—” He stopped. “Good isn’t the right word. But the probability is high, if not certain, that even if she somehow got paroled, it wouldn’t be for years. After Austin is grown. At that point, it will be his decision whether he has a relationship with Misty.”
“I know you’re probably right.” She bit her lip until it hurt. This was too hard. Like driving blind. “But what if she got out early? What if five years from now when we’ve raised that baby as our own—grown to love Austin even more than we do now—what if she gets out somehow, and she wants to take them back?”
He shrugged. “I suppose we have to go into this knowing that could happen. And how could we blame her? She loves Austin as much as we do. This baby too. And Danae, you might not like this, but I don’t think I’d be willing to do this unless Misty would promise to keep up a relationship with the kids.”
She stared at him. “What?”
His Adam’s apple moved up and down in his throat. He reached for her hand. “I need to tell you some things. Things you don’t know about me.”
She’d only seen Dallas cry two times in their entire marriage, but he looked near tears.
“What is it?” She could barely push the words out. Fear gripped her beyond anything she’d yet felt over this whole situation with Austin. “What don’t I know about you? I thought I knew everything there was to know about you.” Her attempt at laughter came out thin and hollow. She did not need any more surprises to deal with right now.
“It’s nothing bad. Not like you’re probably thinking anyway. Except I should have told you. Long before now. I’m sorry.”
“Dallas? What is it? You’re scaring me.”
He went to the table and pulled out a chair, then motioned for her to sit down.
She did, gladly, since she didn’t trust her legs to hold her
right now.
He sat down across from her. “I’ve always skirted around the subject of adoption. There’s more reason for that than what I’ve told you. Or anybody. Drew doesn’t even know. Only my parents. I guess . . . I kind of hoped this had died with them.”
“I don’t understand.”
She must have looked terrified, because he reached for her other hand and squeezed it. It helped. A little.
“It’s just that”—He swallowed hard and raked his fingers through his hair—“I was fine with my own adoption. You know that. Mom and Dad always made it matter-of-fact. I never knew anything but their love. And Drew’s. But when I was eighteen, I got it in my head that I wanted to meet my birth mother. So I started searching.”
“Dallas? Did you find her?”
“I found her all right. And then I found out that she didn’t want to be found.”
“Oh no.” She squeezed his hand harder, her heart breaking for how that must have hurt him. “So . . . what happened?”
“I called her. Like an idiot I blurted out who I was and that I wanted to meet her. She hung up, but I’d played detective—not that it was that difficult to find her. I found out where she lived and I went to see her.”
“Oh, Dallas.” She could scarcely breathe, and she could imagine how he must have felt. How high his expectations must have been to meet the woman who’d given birth to him. He’d told her not long after they met, that he’d “thought about finding my birthmother,” but that he’d given up the search and hadn’t ever wanted to try again. She’d never heard this part of the story, and she was afraid it didn’t have a happy ending.
“The woman answered the door, and the minute she heard my voice and put two and two together from the phone call, she yelled that she never wanted to see me again. She even threatened to call the police.”
“Oh, babe. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, it gets better.”
Danae closed her eyes, as if somehow that would make it easier for him to talk about this humiliating experience. But she clung tightly to his hand.
“About that time some guy in the house—I assume it was her husband—comes up behind her and asks if everything is OK.” His voice grew distant. “Maybe it was my father . . . I don’t suppose I’ll ever know. And honestly, I don’t care now. But anyway, my birth mother hisses that if I say one word she’ll make sure my life is ruined—and some other things I wouldn’t repeat. She pretty much disowned me and told me to get off her porch.”
“Dallas . . . I’m so sorry. What did you do?”
“I’m not proud of it. Remember I was only eighteen. But, I called her a not very nice name and hightailed it out of there. I got back in my car and drove to the end of the street. I got out of my car just in time to throw up.” He gave her a sheepish sidewise glance. “And then I cried all the way home. I mean, cried so hard I could barely see the road.”
She put her arm around him and lay her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dallas. She doesn’t know what an amazing man she missed the privilege of getting to know that day.”
He straightened. “Well, I wasn’t all that amazing at eighteen. That came later. After I met you.”
She laughed softly.
He pulled her closer. “I still don’t understand how a stranger could hurt me that much. But I won’t lie. It stung. In the end, she didn’t even seem like someone worth knowing, and yet, I can’t—couldn’t—seem to quit missing her.”
Danae didn’t miss his use of the present tense. Did her husband still feel the pain of that rejection all these years later? But she remained silent.
“It’s weird to long for someone you don’t even know,” he said. “Someone who makes it clear they don’t care about you or want you in their life. And then to feel guilty because, after all, I had a mom. And she was great. She and Dad were great. The best. But there’s always something there, you know?”
She forced down the lump in her throat. “I don’t know, Dallas. I think maybe only someone who’s lived through it can truly understand. But what if that’s the whole reason we’re getting Austin? Because if he goes through that same kind of pain, you’ll be there for him. You’ll understand.”
He kissed the top of her head, then gave a short huff that ruffled her hair. “I guess I never thought about it that way. For a long time I thought I’d outgrow it—that horrible tender spot—and I have learned to ignore it most of the time. But I think no matter how old you get, you can’t help but always wonder how your mother could just . . . give you up. Like you were a worn out pair of shoes or—”
“Babe, it’s not fair to assume it was easy for your birth mother.”
He shrugged. “I know the whole identity thing is a huge issue for a lot of adopted kids. Especially when they reach a certain age.”
She knew she was treading on shaky ground, but this was the most open he’d ever been about the subject, so she risked the question. “Is that why you’ve been so against it? Adopting?”
“That’s part of it. I didn’t ever want to put a kid through what I went through. But I think maybe I didn’t want to have to ever revisit that time in my own life either. It was selfish, I know.”
She reached to stroke his cheek. “You don’t have a selfish bone in your body.”
“You just go on thinking that. I know better. But . . . something about telling you all this now helps. I’d give anything if I could keep Austin from ever having to go through that. He’s been through so much already. But if he does struggle with this same kind of pain, if he goes through an identity crisis—”
“He’ll go through it whether he’s with us or with someone else,” she said softly. “If even your amazing parents couldn’t heal that pain in you . . .”
“You’re right.” He pushed her gently away from him, tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “If he has to go through it, it might as well be with us.”
26
Dallas held up a hand. “Give us just a few more minutes.”
The guard nodded. “I’ll be right out here.” He pulled the door closed again.
Dallas took her face in his hands. “You want to take this baby?”
“I do,” she breathed. He was going to say yes. Her heart swelled.
“I do too.”
Aware of the guard waiting outside, still she didn’t feel rushed or pressured. It just suddenly seemed so very right. “I think . . . these may be the kids God has had for us all along.”
He nodded. “I think you’re right. If we ask ourselves what’s best for Austin, what’s best for the baby Misty is carrying, we know the answer.”
“Yes. And if we walk away, Dallas, that baby will go into foster care. Yes, maybe it would get a warm, loving family. Or maybe it would be tossed from one family to another for twenty years.”
“But could Austin ever forgive us if we kept him from his only sibling? Could we ever forgive ourselves?”
“We have to take them, Dallas. Both of them. God’s got this. Whatever happens, He’ll get us through.”
He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out as if gearing up to shoulder the weight of the world. “Yes. You’re right. I don’t think we have a choice.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed. “Let’s go tell Misty.”
* * *
Misty’s shoulders shook and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Dallas looked from Danae to the social worker, wondering if they would be able to continue.
Finally, Misty choked out two words. “Thank you.”
Dallas watched Danae start to reach across the table, then quickly draw her hand back. He knew it was killing her not to be able to touch Misty, to somehow convey, physically, how much they were mourning for her.
And though it hadn’t quite soaked in yet, he knew another emotion would come soon. Gratitude. This was the mother of the children they would raise. And he was grateful. For Danae’s sake, if not for his own yet.
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