“I’ve been back for a few days,” I exhale. “Lakin and I went to the doctor a few days ago, but we weren’t prepared for the news we got. I planned to tell you, but we needed a few days to process everything.”
“Holy canola oil, you need to just say it,” Carly interrupts. “This has been the most difficult year of our lives, trying to move past everything that Jack did to us. I can’t bear to think about possibly losing you, so if you are sick or hurt, you need to just tell us.”
I nod without a smile and reach into my bag for the presents within it and pull out the silver-wrapped gifts.
“Oh fuck, she came with gifts; this is really bad,” Jen blurts out, fanning herself like she’s trying to hold tears in.
Vivian and Carly wrap their hands and arms around each other as I push the gifts in front of them. Their eyes zero in on the packages, but they don’t move their hands to open them. Jen instantly pushes her gift back to me.
“I can’t. I love gifts, but not like this. Take it away,” she insists.
I laugh at all of them and push the package back in front of her. “Just open them,” I tell them reassuringly.
They each hesitantly open their gifts and uncover the jewelry box inside. One by one, they pop open the top of the box and I’m met with three very different expressions. Vivian exhales loudly, Jen scowls, but Carly looks up at me with tears staining her cheeks.
“I don’t get it,” Jen announces befuddled, lifting the silver charmed bracelet from its box. “How is this a clue about what’s going on with you?”
I had each specially designed for them with a flower and a quote inscribed on the heart-shaped charm. Vivian’s with a clover, Jen’s with a dandelion, and Carly’s with a forget-me-not. She obviously didn’t look at the entire bracelet.
“Read the back,” Vivian whispers forcefully in her direction.
She flips it over and slowly reads the back to everyone at the table. “The only thing better than having you as a sister, is my children having you as their aunt.” Her eyes immediately bounce to mine.
“But I thought…” Jen tappers off, pausing for a moment before continuing. “The damage from the attack would make it difficult if not impossible to have children?”
I grab Carly’s trembling hand and snap the bracelet around her wrist. “Apparently not impossible after all,” I say, smiling at her. “The babies are due next spring.”
Shocked, Jen spits out her coffee across the table and I dodge the path of the spray. “Babies, as in plural?” Jen asking, not even bothering to clean up her mess on the table. “You’re having twins?”
I giggle at her reaction and simply nod.
Carly gradually stands and pulls me up from my chair to stand with her. Her arms wrap around me and squeeze me tightly.
“I’ve always been told you can’t choose your family,” she whispers in my ear. “They say you should hold them dear, because at times, your family will be all that you have.”
She pulls away and squares her shoulders at me with every bit of confidence she can pull together, a confidence I don’t think I’ve ever seen. “Those people are wrong; the four of us have created a family together, all of us. I hold you dear not because I have to but because I want to and I’d sacrifice all I have to protect that family.”
Jen and Vivian stand and circle their arms around us creating a group hug in the back section of the coffee house, a place that has been a staple over the last few years. We momentarily bask in one another’s comforting embrace.
I back away with a smile and grab my purse, slinging it over my shoulder. “Now, let’s go add one more to this crazy family of ours.”
The amount of people who walk through the courthouse doors is impressive; we look more like a mob ready for a rock show rather than witnesses at an adoption proceeding. Everyone is dressed in their very best and is lugging presents for Leah to officially welcome her into our little group.
After the incident, I wasn’t convinced this day would happen. Leah was removed from Carly’s home that night and placed in a group home. She then wasn’t allowed back until the Department of Child Services could assess the safety of the situation and placement. Those months were extremely difficult for all of them. There were times that I thought they wouldn’t be able to weather the storm and would collapse under the strain of their grief.
Chatter and laughter fill the room, and the vibration of everyone’s joy for the moment is seen on every face I see, except one…Leah’s. I watch as each member of our little gang takes turns saying things to her and pulling her into a big hug, but each time she meets them with an uncomfortable smile.
Her long blonde hair falls in front of her face to hide her anxious expression, but I see it, I see her.
When Royce pulls Carly away from the group and Leah is left alone, I take my opportunity to talk with her, to tell her all of the things I wish Sharon had told me decades ago.
She is sitting on the bench, her neatly pressed floral dress fits her perfectly, but she is obviously uncomfortable in it. I’m not surprised; dresses have probably never been in her wardrobe before Carly came into her life. I learned early that jeans and a hoodie were the route to go when you have a very limited amount of clothing. It makes it less obvious to your classmates that you have nothing, that you wear the same clothes every day. She no doubt has learned the same lesson.
“You look very nice today, Leah,” I compliment as I take a seat on the bench next to her.
“I’m not good with dresses,” she says as she pulls at the shoulder strap of the dress and then flattens the fabric across her knees. “I’m used to pants,” she adds in a whisper, a sense of shame rolling off her.
I sigh loudly, knowing all too well the feelings she’s experiencing. “Me too, remember?” I tell her with a smile and a slight nudge with my knee. Her eyes meet mine, begging for reassurance.
“You know I never got this far,” I tell her. “I grew very close with one of my foster parents and I thought maybe I would be adopted, but it just didn’t happen. I wished and wished to be in the seat you’re sitting in now.”
“I know. I’m very thankful, excited even, but I’m so nervous,” she explains, her hands wrestling with each other with anxiety. “When I was in different placements or group homes, I just existed. I flew under the radar and stayed out of trouble, but there was never any pressure to be or do more than just survive.”
She looks down at her dress again and fluffs the cloth. “That’s different now. I want this, I really do it’s just…” she pauses and looks around for any listening ears before continuing. “The world I knew is ending and I don’t know if I’ll be any good at living in my new world.”
I nod and reach into my bag for the final gift I had prepared for today. I place the little box in her lap, and direct her to open it. As she carefully tears away the wrapping I begin my explanation of the gift, hoping she finds some comfort in my words.
“When I was in the system, my life was a series of landings. I never knew where I would be landing next, and I was both hopeful and nervous about the idea of possibly finding a permanent home. What if I didn’t live up to their expectations? Adoption meant that a family would love me forever and help to give me a new life, what if I let them down?”
Her shoulders sag as she grips onto the box. “Exactly,” she exhales. “I don’t want Carly to be disappointed in whoever I eventually become. I want to make her proud. Make her not regret taking a chance on me.”
She opens the lid and uncovers my necklace that Sharon had once given me. I pick it up from the box and move her hair from her shoulders so that I can clasp the piece of jewelry around her neck.
“This necklace was a gift from one of my foster parents on the day I was leaving her house. We remained close, her son even saved my life once, but I was never adopted by her. She gave me this to remember that no matter where I landed, no matter what direction life took me, there were people who loved me and to not lose myself in the journey.”