I push the pads of my feet into my shoes and twist them, trying to ground myself back into this room. I’ve never been scared out of my body before.
“I’ll be outside if you need me.” Calvin cleans his hands, disposes of his outer gown, and goes to sit at the window desk, out of view from where I stand. I slump into the armchair next to my sister.
“Quite the day…” Odette’s voice is soft as she looks lovingly into the incubator.
“I don’t know where to start.” I place my forehead into my palms.
“Well, is there someone you might want to call? This is a lot to take in all at once.”
“Nope.” If I needed a reminder of how lonely I have become—this is perfect. My university roommates all left after graduation, leaving me a great big (but thankfully rent-controlled) apartment to myself. My adoptive parents went to live in Barcelona to care for my ageing abuela, and the guy I was seeing ghosted me a few weeks back. On top of that, I freelance, so I don’t have co-workers.
The plan was to start a life after graduation. I had a lot of plans, though I had no actual idea how to begin. Regardless, I was going to find my sitcom-style chosen family and welcome my midtwenties alongside them. I was going to get new roommates. I was going to tell them everything this time, be honest, be genuine. I was going to find love.
“Well, then allow me to keep you company.” Odette sits down next to me in the other armchair. The one set up here for the other parent, I suppose. I look over at the cot in the corner of the room—am I expected to sleep here? I look towards my sister. Would she know she’s alone?
“I think we start with giving this sweet baby a name.” Odette breaks the silence.
“Am I—am I supposed to do that?” I stammer.
“That’s what Connie wants. She thought it would be better that way.”
I don’t have the energy to try to psychoanalyse why Connie wouldn’t even bother to name her because, truthfully, I’m grateful for the chance.
I stand and slowly approach the incubator. In all the action, her lilac hat was pulled back slightly, and I can make out more of her little face. Her name hits me instantly, as if her soul speaks to my own. “Willow.”
“Mmm. I like that.” Odette rises and stands beside me.
“There was this song my abuela used to play for me, ‘Little Willow.’ I think Paul McCartney wrote it.”
“Willow it is.” Odette’s smile is so warm. She really found the right career. Smiles like that belong with people in crisis.
“Will she have Connie’s last name? Or mine?”
“I would presume Connie’s until custody is final. Then, if possible, it would be your choice.”
“Right.” I sniffle into my sleeve.
There is no way they’re going to let me have her. Do I even want her? Her little hand twitches.Yes, yes, I do.I reach out to brush her fingertips. The way her hand curls around my pinkie finger spurs me on. “What’s next?”
“We get you to see Rachel. She’ll be Willow’s caseworker. Then we start your application process. They’ll do a home and finance assessment, psych evaluation, things like that.”
“You make it sound so easy.” My chest rises impossibly high with a breath that does nothing to soothe me.
“Oh hon, it is not easy. Not in the slightest. But you have me, Rachel, and a whole team of people behind you who want to make it easier for you and Willow.”
I nod repeatedly, trying to convince myself that I agree, but fail. All of today’s shock runs up my body and climbs up my throat. A muffled sob comes out, then another and another. “I don’t know what to do.” Odette rubs my back as I lean forward in the chair.
“Chloe, if this is what you want, you can do it. You will do it. But if it’s too much, if you aren’t ready to be a full-time caregiver…”
“I can’t leave her. I can’t,” I interrupt, blubbering still.
“Okay then, okay. Then we do our best.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“I have good news and some bad news—”
“As usual, then,” I interrupt Rachel, who sits across from me in her cubicle—one of thirty in this large room alone.
