the idea of shopping for a child with a wish list strikes me as repugnant.”
“Good for you.” Ms. Stuart’s smile was warm and approving.
“My parents died when I was six.”
“I know. I have to admit, that’s one reason I thought you might be just right for these particular children.” She lifted a hand, hesitated with it over the file folder. “Would you like to see their pictures?”
Suddenly unable to breath, Suzanne could only nod.
Opening the file, the caseworker removed two five-by-seven school photos and laid them on the desk, facing Suzanne.
She took one look at the two faces, both so hopeful, so wary, and felt a painful squeeze in her chest she was astonished to recognize as the first symptom of falling in love.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “When can I meet them?”
CHAPTER TWO
THE CASEWORKER HAD PREPARED the kids for Suzanne’s visit. Younger children could be fooled into thinking the visitor was a friend of the foster mom’s, or another social worker. Kids the ages of Sophia and Jack would see through the lie and feel betrayed.
Melissa had arranged for this visit only two days after their initial meeting, scheduling it right after the children got home from school. Suzanne was once again depending on Rose.
Now, parking in front of the shabby rambler and setting the emergency brake, Melissa said, “I’ve introduced two other sets of potential adoptive parents to Sophia and Jack. In both cases, they felt the fit wasn’t right.”
“Why?”
“I believe it’s Sophia. She’s almost eleven, and, um…” The caseworker hesitated. “Well, she’s precocious.”
Puzzled, Suzanne said, “You did mention that she’s mature beyond her years.”
“Yes, but what I’m trying to tell you is that she’s also ahead of most girls her age physically.”
“Physically?” For a moment, Suzanne didn’t get it. Then understanding dawned. “Oh. You mean, she’s getting breasts.”
“Yes, but it’s more than that. Part of the trouble is her choice of clothing. She looks like a thirteen-year-old who’s pretending she’s sixteen.”
“Oh,” Suzanne said again. She frowned. “You mean, the two couples were okay with a ten-year-old who looked like a little girl, but not one who’s essentially a teenager?”
“Exactly.”
She wanted to say that was lousy, but she remembered the few parameters she’d given Rebecca originally. She’d wanted a child who would come to think of her as a mother, not a teenager who’d be gone in no time. An almost-eleven-year-old who looked older… No, Sophia definitely wasn’t what Suzanne had had in mind, either.
But then, from the beginning she’d vowed to be open-minded, to take a child who needed her. It sounded like these two did.
She nodded, and the two women got out of the car, walking in silence up the driveway.
On the way over, Melissa had told her this foster mother was having health problems and had given them a deadline of the first of January to find alternative placement for Jack and Sophia.
“They’ve had so many disruptions already,” she’d said. “I’m really hoping to find them a permanent home now, so that they don’t have to adjust to yet another temporary one. I want you to feel free to take your time to get to know them, but if you decide they might be right for you, I can also accelerate the steps we usually go through.”
Suzanne was so nervous, she felt light-headed by the time Melissa rang the doorbell. What if they were unfriendly? Disinterested? Wild? What if she didn’t like them?
How horrible it must be to be looked over like apples in the produce section, put back when buyers saw a bruise. She didn’t want to do something like that, but it would also be disastrous if she took on something she couldn’t handle.
Someone, she reminded herself. Not a situation. Kids.
The door opened without warning. It had to be the foster mom who smiled and pushed open the screen. “Melissa. Hi! The kids have been waiting. You must be Suzanne. Hello.”
She was in her sixties or perhaps even seventies, and overweight. She moved as if she hurt.
The television in the living room was on, a well-known talk-show host grilling someone to the shrill encouragement of the audience. She turned it off and called, “Kids! Melissa is here!”
There was a moment of silence. Then one of the bedroom doors down a short hall opened and two kids came out. The boy had his head hanging, but the girl ignored the other two adults and studied Suzanne with frightening intensity as she sauntered behind her brother. Suzanne could see right away why Melissa had warned her. It was more than the breasts. It was that hip-swinging walk, the curl to her mouth, the ferocity of that stare. No, this wasn’t your average ten-year-old. She might have had trouble fitting in with other girls her age even under normal circumstances.
“Sophia, Jack,” Melissa said. “I’d like you to meet Ms. Chauvin.”
The boy stole a quick look up at her, then ducked his head again. The girl stopped and appraised her.
“Hi,” Suzanne said. “I’m glad to meet you after Melissa told me so much about you.”
“Why don’t you have kids of your own?” Sophia asked, with a tone of insolence. Why are you such a loser? she seemed to be asking.
“Sophia!” the foster mom intervened. “That wasn’t very polite.”
“No, it’s okay. My husband and I hadn’t started a family before we got divorced. Since I’ve always wanted to have children, I chose to adopt.”
“So how come us?”
It was as if no one else was there, just Suzanne and this dark-haired girl with riveting blue eyes.
“Because Melissa told me about you, and I thought we might be a good fit. My parents both died when I was six years old, so I know better than most people how you feel right now.”
The girl’s mask slipped. “Did you get adopted?”
Suzanne shook her head. “My aunt and uncle took me in, even though I don’t think they really wanted any more children. They had two of their own. But they surrendered my little brother and sister. They were adopted by other families.”
Sophia cast a shocked glance at her little brother, who had finally lifted his head and was watching Suzanne and his sister with eyes that were a paler blue than hers. His hair was lighter, too, the shade of brown that might become blond after a summer in the sun.
“So you never saw them again?” the girl asked.
“Not until this year. I hired a private investigator to find them.”
“Oh.”
