Dylan and Hallie.
I swallowed again and locked eyes with Nate.
Ma was still rambling, and it was time to cut her off.
“We’ll be at your work first thing in the morning, Ma,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m guessing the group home and not your office?”
“Yes! Ohh, I’m keeping all my fingers and toes crossed, my baby boy,” she gushed tearfully. “You know I’m always keeping an eye out.”
A smile broke free, and I scrubbed a hand over my mouth. “I know, Ma. See you tomorrow—when I can form a proper sentence.”
Hopefully.
She laughed. “Trust me, I get it. See you tomorrow. Love you both!”
“Love you.” I pocketed my phone, and a big breath gusted out of me.
“Are you gonna tell me what that was about?” Nate wondered.
I exhaled a laugh, not sure where to begin.
Actually, I did know. “I hope you don’t have any sessions you can’t cancel tomorrow,” I said. “Ma wants us in Philly to meet a boy and a girl who need a home.”
His mouth popped open, and he dropped his chopsticks.
Don’t get your hopes up, keep it cool.
But Ma would never call if she didn’t have a reason to be hopeful. She knows the hell we’ve gone through.
In the ten years Nate and I had been together, we’d been actively trying to become parents for about five. With some breaks here and there. Which was both an eternity and no time at all. Each case dragged on for months and months, and it was the worst waiting game on earth. But we felt each and every one of those months, while we tried to lead everyday lives.
“Could this really be happening?” Nate rose to his feet, his voice shaky.
“I don’t know, but it’s impossible not to hope,” I said. “Ma sounded hopeful.”
“Oh God.” He hurried toward me, and the first two steps kicked me into motion too, so we met halfway, and I crushed him in a hug. “Tell me everything.”
We obviously didn’t sleep that night, and we had to get on the road by two AM anyway.
Right outside the city, we hit up a twenty-four-hour drive-thru, and then we were good on cheeseburgers, coffee, and soda.
I drove the first shift while Nate went through the email Ma had sent shortly before midnight. It was everything she knew about the children, so we could be prepared with the basics.
The children had ultimately been placed in the system when their mother had died from liver failure and the dad had been violent at the hospital, raising suspicion with the nurses. Turned out, the dad had two warrants out for his arrest already.
“Maybe you should talk to the kids first,” I said, biting into my burger. “You’re the professional.”
“I see precisely two children because their guardians are my patients already, and they join each session with the kids,” he pointed out. “You are every bit as qualified for this as I am, baby.”
I wasn’t sure about that. I could be a bull in a china shop. Nathan had endless patience, and he was diplomatic and calm and…just perfect.
“Okay, right here,” he went on, reading from the email. “It looks like an out-of-state solution is not only on the table but preferred because of a history of harassment from extended family. Your mother put one aunt and a set of grandparents within parentheses. Maybe it’s like your biological grandmother back in the day?”
Maybe. It could be anything. My grandmother had wanted custody when my mother had lost her rights to me, but she hadn’t been much better herself. She’d suffered from addictions and untreated diagnoses.
“Whatever it is, we can get ready for a drawn-out process,” I replied. “Let the frustrations begin.”
I was ready, but I was under no illusions. Depending on the potential risks the children were exposed to, I could imagine the top priority was to get them out of the group home and away from the environment they knew, the city, the state, whatever. But after that…who knew. If they had arrived at the group home just a week ago, I doubted they were done with psychological evaluations.
