For a long moment, we sit there next to each other. Tommy’s happy babbling and the distant chirping of birds are the only sounds, a soundtrack to this perfect day.Almost perfect.Today’s the day that could make or break our little family. A clicker of unease stirs in my chest.
“Cam?”
I realize Greg’s said my name and probably not for the first time. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“What if something goes wrong?” I whisper, hating the tremble in my voice.
I glance at him, seeing my own concern mirrored in his eyes. We’ve been down this road before, the rollercoaster of hope and uncertainty, first with the surrogacy process, then getting approval to be foster parents. So much has gone our way, it feels like it’s time for our bubble to burst.
“Maybe we should have been there.”
“Hey, none of that.” Greg says. “The attorney advised us to stay home with Tommy, remember? She said our presence wasn’t necessary, that it would be better for us to carry on with our normal routine. We have to trust her expertise on this.”
“What if they change their minds, or the judge doesn’t approve the adoption?”
Greg reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. “We can’t think like that, Cam. We’ve done everything right. The home study, the interviews, the paperwork. Tommy belongs with us.”
I nod, trying to let his confidence soothe my frayed nerves, but the fear is coiled tight in my gut. “I just… I can’t lose him, Greg. Not after everything he’s been through. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
My mind drifts to those early days, when Tommy first came to us. A tiny, broken boy, so starved for love and affection that it physically hurt to look at him. His mother, barely more than a child herself, dead in a senseless accident. His father, a faceless name on a birth certificate, unwilling to step up and be the parent Tommy needed.
“He’s already lost so much,” I murmur, watching as Tommy darts across the grass, reaching for a ball. “His mom, his dad… He didn’t ask for any of this.”
Greg pulls me close. “I know, babe. But that’s why he has us. We’re his family now. We’re going to give him the life he deserves, with all the love and stability and happiness in the world.”
I lean into him, drawing strength from his solid presence. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I just… I can’t help but worry.”
“I know.” Greg presses a kiss to my temple. “But you, me, and Tommy. We belong together. We’re a team.”
I take a deep breath, letting his words wash over me. “A family.”
“And soon to be an even bigger one,” Greg says.
“I like the sound of that.”
We watch as Tommy finally reaches the ball. His smile is wide as he picks it up, unaware of my mini-meltdown about his future. I could sit and watch him play all day, but I can’t ignore the unfinished swing set forever. With a sigh, I press a kiss to Greg’s temple and reluctantly pull away. “Alright, break’s over. This thing won’t assemble itself.”
“Sure you don’t want me to take a crack at it?” Greg teases as I grab the instructions again. “My knitting group says I’m pretty good at following patterns.”
I huff a laugh. He still can’t knit much more than a basic knit-one purl-one let alone follow a knitting pattern. I shoot him a playful glare. “Very cute. But I’ve got this, trust me.”
“Uh huh. I’ve heard that before…”
I don’t complain as he comes and lends me a hand. Our back-and-forth continues as we work side by side.
“Alright, let’s see here,” Greg mumbles, squinting at the page of the instructions I’ve handed over. “It says we need to attach piece A to piece B using the provided bolts and washers.”
I rummage through the scattered parts, holding up a long metal bar. “Is this piece A or piece C?”
Greg laughs, plucking the bar from my hand. “That’s definitely piece C, babe.”
“Oh, right. I knew that.” I grin and hand him the correct piece. “See, this is why I keep you around. You’re the brains of this operation.”
“And here I thought it was for my rugged good looks and charm,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
We work together, falling into an easy rhythm of banter and laughter as we slowly but surely bring the swing set to life. Tommy darts around us, offering his own enthusiastic “help” by handing us random pieces and his little face scrunched in concentration. Putting the swing set together is a frustrating task, but I wouldn’t trade a single second if it means having my two boys by my side.
