“I still can’t believe you’re actually going through with it,” Destiny interjects from across the room. “Not that I don’t think you’d be a great mom. But who would have thought?”
“I know, right?” Casey reaches up for Charlie’s hand and squeezes it. She had made her decision to begin the adoption process after one too many nights of stepping inside her empty high-rise apartment to nothing more than the sound of the buzzing refrigerator. She’d felt an ache as she observed the silence—deciding she had to do something to fill it—tired of missing the sound of Charlotte’s laugh and even the girls’ bickering. She’d stayed up half the night researching adoption, and when Charlie showed up the next morning, her vanilla latte in his hand, she told him her plans, nervously detailing the process and even reading him the email she sent the director of the most reputable adoption service she could find. Did he think she was crazy?
After she’d become “herself” again, she’d taken Charlie for a walk on the beach and told him about the date rape, her mom, the clinic, everything. She’d begun to cry as she declared she was sorry she’d never confided in him; she was sorry for freaking out on him; sorry for it all. He’d grabbed her elbow as she paced in the wet sand, spun her toward him, and said, “No. I’m sorry that ever happened to you. I’m sorry that you ever had to go through that.” She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words.
She held her breath as she waited for Charlie’s reaction to her decision to adopt. She was completely committed to moving forward with or without him. So much so that she’d already asked a Realtor to put her condo on the market and was searching for houses in Santa Monica. She loved him—yes, she’d finally said it back—but becoming a mother was something she needed to do, regardless of his response. If she had learned anything from losing her identity, it was that she had to be true to who she really was.
Charlie stood silent for a moment and finally turned to face her. “I think anyone would be lucky to have you in their life,” he said simply before kissing her softly. “I know I am.”
Casey blushed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I just feel like it’s something I have to do.”
“Then do it,” he said, his eyes bright, remembering Casey’s recent confession to him about what happened to her in high school, understanding why she needed this. “I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”
Relief flooded her body. He is the man I thought he was. “Thank you.”
Later that day, she called her mom and told her what she was planning, speaking so rapidly she had to slow down and start over. After she finished speaking, she was met with silence. Then she had heard the tears. Her mom, who had never been emotional, not even when Casey was bedridden and sobbing for three days after what happened to her on prom night, was now crying. Loudly. “Oh, honey. I think . . . I think that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”
“Do you think I’ll be a good mom?” Casey asked in a small voice.
“I think you’ll be a much better mom than I’ve been.” She sighed. “And I can’t wait to be a grandmother.” She called out for Casey’s dad and put the phone on speaker, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, neither of them asked one question about whatever celebrity was topping the headlines that week.
The pop of a champagne cork jolts Casey from her thoughts and she ducks as it comes flying past her head, an embarrassed Destiny shouting, “Sorry!” from across the room.