He never growled. Like,never.
Ms. Nelson, looking offended and maybe even a little disgusted, said, “Does he bite?”
“Oh, no,” I said. “Arnold is the sweetest dog.”
He growled again.
“Ice water it is,” Adam said, suddenly appearing after putting Rosie down and beelining for the kitchen.
“My teeth are sensitive, so no ice, please,” she called after him.
“Adam, will you please get Arnold a treat while you’re in there?” I called.
Mention of Arnold’s favorite word usually sent him bolting into the kitchen to stand in front of the broom closet where we kept his dog cookies. But not this time. He remained parked in front of Ms. Nelson, standing guard and emitting an occasional low growl.
“Arnie, come here,” I said, to see if I could get him over to me where I could give him a nice calming rubdown. However, Arnie wouldn’t budge. The muscles around my mouth hurt from smiling already. Inside, I felt total dread vibes that I couldn’t shake. Ms. Nelson hadn’t even begun her questions, yet all signs indicated that she was uncompromising and inflexible.
What if I lost Rosalie? I couldn’t bear it. She was everything to me. I loved her with all my heart. I would do anything to keep her.
Ms. Nelson ran a finger along the coffee table and examined it for dust. I’m certain she found plenty. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a giant clump of dust bunnies clearly visible under the couch. There was an old bottle of Rosie’s on the table too. Points off for bad housekeeping.
Strike two, strike one being our fierce dog. She was literally looking for flaws. This could not possibly go well. My blood pressure was skyrocketing, and I felt exactly like I did right before my last Peds board exam.
I scored in the 90thpercentile on that, I reminded myself.
Maybe Iwasflawed. Maybe I’d made some mistakes. But I was the right person to raise Rosalie.Me.I would fight for that privilege with my last breath.
Adam cleared his throat as he sat down, placing two waters on the table, one apparently for me. As he introduced himself, he gave me a half-hidden thumbs-up.You got this, he mouthed.
That calmed me—a little. And reminded me that he was perfect. Wonderful. The best part of my life. How lucky I’d been to be a distressed, failed bride that day a year ago on the plane. I just worried that Ms. Nelson would ask me to define a relationship that we ourselves hadn’t yet formally defined.
Ms. Nelson opened a fat navy binder full of all the minute details of my life—my financial history, my house loan, my 401K, my health history, the house safety inspection, the classes I’d taken online, and the passing scores of the exams I’d had to take. So far, so good.
She opened the binder to a page and neatly folded her hands over it. “As you know, today is the psychosocial evaluation. We’ll be talking about your emotional health, relationships, and your motivations for fostering and adopting Rosalie.”
Arnold objected by growling again. He hadn’t moved an inch. It was like he was telling Ms. Nelson that if she made one false move, it was off with her head.
“Arnie, come here,please,” I said in my most commanding voice. Our dog looked at me and turned his head to the side, as if to say,I see your lips moving, but I can’t really hear you.
Teenager, indeed.
I sat rigidly in my chair. I wished I’d chosen a seat next to Adam, who was sitting on a couch. He was leaning forward, endlessly tapping his fingertips together, the only evidence of his underlying worry. As tempting as it was, I couldn’t physically lean on him now. I had to stand on my own. I’d come this far. I prayed for the strength to see this through.
“We know you’re a pediatrician, and that financially and health-wise, everything’s worked out.” Ms. Nelson flipped through the many pages. “But today we’re going to concentrateon you personally. I’d like to talk about stability of relationships. I understand you’ve had a divorce in the past and a failed wedding last year. You decided that you wanted to adopt this baby quite suddenly, after the mother handed her to you. Had you been planning to adopt a child, Dr. Green?”
I took a breath and jumped in. “When I delivered Rosalie, I promised her mother she’d be in good hands. It was an extension of that sentiment that made me realize that I wanted to be the one to care for her.”
“That’s a highly unusual move. Plus you’re single,” she said. “That makes things more difficult, of course. We have to make certain you’re aware of that.”
“Single moms raise children successfully all the time,” Adam pointed out.
Of course, they did. “My decision might have come about in an unusual way,” I said, “but it was sincere. I felt an immediate connection to Rosalie—and to her mother’s plight. I feel that I have what it takes to give her a great life—a good job, a home, and most of all, plenty of love.”
“I see,” she said in a deadpan tone. She scribbled something down, seemingly unmoved by my sincerity.
“As for adopting, no, I wasn’t considering it as an option. But I’ve always wanted children.” Maybe I should have said that I’d always wanted to adopt. Maybe I should have practiced becoming a better liar.
“Let’s start with your first marriage.” Ms. Nelson sat with pen poised. “Was that an impulsive decision too?”
