Angie’s smile was as gentle as her touch had been. “That’s an answer from your head. I asked a question of the heart.”
“None of this is easy,” Lauren said, wiping her eyes. “But I’ve thought and thought. This is the best answer. You can trust me.”
A silence followed that statement. It was broken only by a log falling in the fireplace and a shower of hissing sparks.
“We think you should see a counselor,” Conlan said at last.
“Why?”
Angie was trying to smile, as if she wanted to show that this was nothing, just another late night chat. The sadness in her eyes betrayed her. “Because I love you, Lauren, and as much as I’d love your baby to be mine, I know about where we’re headed. Where you’re headed. It’s one thing to decide to give up a baby. It’s another thing to do it. I want you to be sure.”
Lauren hardly heard anything after I love you. Only David had ever said those words to her before. She leaned forward and pulled Angie into a fierce hug. “I’d never hurt you,” she whispered throatily. “Never.”
Angie drew back. “I know that.”
“So you’ll see the counselor?” Conlan said, sounding more than a little afraid.
“Of course.” Lauren found her first genuine smile of the day. “I’d do anything for you.”
Angie hugged her again. In the distance, very softly, Lauren heard Conlan say, “Then don’t break her heart.”
The lawyer’s office was crowded with people. On the left side of the room, their chairs pushed close together, were the Haynes family. On the right side, Angie sat in a chair beside Conlan. Lauren’s chair was in the middle, and though there wasn’t much space between her and the others, she seemed vaguely alone, separate.
Angie got up to go to her.
Just then the lawyer strode into the room. A tall, portly man in an expensive black suit, he commanded attention when he said, “Good day, all.”
Angie sat back down.
“I’m Stu Phillips,” the lawyer said, extending his hand to Conlan, who stood instantly.
“Conlan Malone. This is my … Angie Malone.”
Angie shook the lawyer’s hand, then sat back down. She sat very still, trying not to remember the last time they’d been in a meeting like this.
I have a baby for you, Mr. and Mrs. Malone.
A teenager.
“So, young lady,” Stu said, looking gently at Lauren, “you’ve made up your mind?”
“Yes, sir.” Her voice was barely audible.
“Okay, then. First, let’s begin with the technicalities. I need to advise you all that it is sometimes problematic to share representation in an adoption. It’s legal in this state, but not always advisable. If something came up—a disagreement—I wouldn’t be able to represent either party.”
“Nothing will come up,” Lauren said. Her voice was stronger now. “I’ve made up my mind.”
Stu looked to Conlan. “Are you two prepared for the risks of dual representation?”
“That’s the least of our risk here, Stu,” Conlan answered.
Stu pulled some paperwork from a manila folder and slid them across the desk. “Sign these documents and we’ll proceed. They merely state that you knowingly accept the risks inherent in dual representation.”
When the documents were signed, he put them away. For the next hour, he talked about the process. Who could pay for what, what needed to be signed and by whom, the ins and outs of Washington law, the home study that would need to be done, the termination of the birth parents’ rights, the guardian ad litems that would be assigned, the time and expense of all of it.
Angie had heard it all before, and she knew that, in the end, the technicalities didn’t add up to squat. It was emotions that mattered. Feelings. You could sign all the papers in the world and make a delivery truck full of promises, but you couldn’t know how it would feel when you got there. That was why the adoption couldn’t be legally finalized before the birth. Lauren would have to hold her baby and then sign her rights away.
Angie’s heart ached at the very thought of it. She glanced to her left.
Lauren sat very quietly in the chair, with her hands clasped in her lap. Even with her rounded stomach, she looked young and innocent. The girl who’d swallowed a watermelon. She was nodding earnestly at something the lawyer asked her.
Angie wanted to go to her, kneel down beside her and hold her hand, say You’re not alone in this, but the sad truth was that soon Lauren would be alone. What could be more solitary than giving your baby away?
And nothing Angie could do could protect Lauren from that moment.
Angie closed her eyes. How could they get through all of this with their hearts intact? How—
She felt a tug on her sleeve. She blinked, glanced sideways.
Conlan was staring at her. So was the attorney, Lauren, and everyone in the room.
“Did you ask me something?” she said, feeling her cheeks heat up.
“As I was saying,” Stu said, “I like to make an adoption plan. It makes everything go much smoother. Shall we begin?”