women nodded. “Remember last time when Aaron sprained his ankle?” one of them asked. “I swear, the man still thinks he’s seventeen.”
Abbey’s friends drifted toward the back door, then out into the yard. When it was just the two of them, Abbey smiled at her. “I sort of asked everyone to leave us alone for a little while. So you could get comfortable. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine. This is a lot to take in.” Crissy drew in a breath and tried to focus. “You’re being really nice about all this. You could have refused to let me see Brandon.”
“Why?” Abbey asked, looking genuinely confused. “The more family, the better. It’s important for Brandon to know about his biological family. I’m thrilled you want to be here.”
If their situations were reversed, Crissy wasn’t so sure she would be as welcoming. “You’re an amazing woman.”
“Oh, please. I just want what’s best for Brandon. I think your plan to take it slow is a good one for everyone.” She continued slicing strawberries and then dumped them in a bowl. “I got in touch with Marty.”
It took Crissy a second to connect the name with the football player she’d dated in high school. The one who had been her first time and Brandon’s biological father.
“What did he say?” she asked, wondering if he was interested in Brandon as well. That would be fifteen kinds of weird.
“He’s a lawyer in Boston. He was very polite, but told me that part of his life was finished. He’d signed away all rights to his child so if I thought I could get money out of him, I was sorely mistaken.”
Crissy winced. “That can’t have been fun.”
Abbey shrugged. “Some people are like that—thinking everything is about money. He’s moved on. I’m okay with that.”
“He didn’t have such a big stick up his butt when we were dating in high school,” Crissy said. “At least I don’t remember seeing it.”
Abbey grinned. “I’m sure you would have noticed.”
Just then a pretty girl Crissy recognized from the pictures in the living room raced into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom. Can I have juice?”
“Sure.” Abbey crossed to the refrigerator. “Emma, this is Crissy. She’s a friend of Uncle Josh’s.”
The girl was about eight or nine, tall and skinny, with cartoon princesses on her athletic shoes.
“Hi,” Emma said shyly. “Uncle Josh is really nice.”
“Yes, he is,” Crissy said, appreciating how easy he’d made things for her.
Abbey handed her a juice drink and the girl skipped toward the back door.
“You have your hands full,” Crissy said. “I can’t imagine raising three kids.”
“I started with one, so that helped.” She began pulling bowls of salads out of the refrigerator. “We’ve been lucky. All the kids have been great. Hope, the little one, just turned two, but she’s still a sweetie. Right now she’s down for a nap, but when she gets up you’ll see what I mean. She’s a real people person. Brandon is more athletic. A typical boy. Emma is the quiet one. Her idea of a good time is an afternoon spent reading. I love how different they all are, how their personalities grow with them.”
The counter filled up quickly, so Crissy stepped in and took two large bowls from Abbey. She glanced at the contents.
“Did you make all this?”
Abbey shrugged. “Yes. I’m a bit obsessive about what my family eats. I go for organic and healthy whenever I can, which means I do a lot of cooking. We have a big garden on the side of the house. Brandon and Emma both help me with it. I make our bread and things like cookies and cakes. I’m a real homebody.” She glanced at Crissy. “That probably sounds really boring to a successful businesswoman like you.”
“Not at all,” Crissy told her, trying to remember if she’d ever turned on the oven in her kitchen. “I’m not the least bit domestic. I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’ve never baked anything. I can’t even knit and I’ve been taking classes for months.”
“But you’re good at other things,” Abbey said. “The whole work world. I think about getting a job sometimes. Money is tight, with us just living on Pete’s paycheck. It gets worse when we adopt.”
Crissy frowned. “I don’t understand. If you’ve had Hope for the past two years, why would she cost more when you adopt her?”
“The state pays us to be foster parents. When we adopt, that money goes away.” Abbey wrinkled her nose. “Some of my friends tell me to just keep them as foster kids. They’ll still be ours. But Pete and I want to be sure the babies know they belong to us forever and that no one can ever take them away. When you’re all alone, like Hope and Emma were, that’s important.”
“I had no idea,” Crissy murmured. The only things she knew about the foster care and adoption system were what she’d seen on television or the movies. Not many people would be willing to give up steady income the way Abbey and Pete had, just to make a child feel secure. Especially when money was tight.
They lived in a different world, she thought, wondering if she would be willing to make the same kind of sacrifices. She’d always thought of herself as a basically good person, but when faced with Abbey’s generous heart, she wasn’t as sure about her character.
She glanced out the window and saw the football game in midplay. Brandon ran downfield and Josh tossed him the ball. Brandon leaped up into the air and gracefully caught the spinning ball, landed and dashed for the touchdown. As he crossed the goal line—marked by two lounge chairs—he grinned and did a little dance.
Crissy felt herself smile as she watched the boy. He was so happy and together. She liked his easy confidence and the way he threw himself into the game. She’d been that way about sports, too. In her world, there hadn’t been room for second place. There was either a win or disappointment.
“He’s very special,” Abbey said, coming up to stand next to her. “In so many ways. You gave us a great gift when you allowed us to raise him.”
Crissy felt overwhelmed by emotion. “I’m not here to make trouble. I swear.”
“I know,” Abbey told her. “You can stop worrying about that. I trust you to do the right thing for Brandon. You love him.”
Love her son? Crissy had barely been willing to admit he existed. That wasn’t love. Abbey gave her way too much credit. She didn’t deserve this family’s kindness.
“We’ll take it slow,” Abbey continued. “If things go well, you can tell him who you are.”
“I won’t do that without talking to you first.”
“I appreciate that. Don’t worry. Things have a way of working themselves out.”
“You’re too trusting,” Crissy said. “The world isn’t always a nice place.”
“I’m wrong from time to
