She smiled. "I've had years of on-the-job training."
Sara's family history was a definite plus. She was the oldest of six children—and all her siblings were boys. Bill knew that in that sort of family structure, a female first child becomes the second-string mother. Which meant that although childless, Sara was already well experienced in the art of caring for children.
Bill was impressed with Sara. Over the years he had developed a sixth sense for adoption applicants. He could tell when a couple wanted a child merely to complete the family portrait, because having a child was expected of them, because everyone else had one, or because it looked good on a resume—married with children.
And then there were the others, the special ones, the women in which the nurturing drive was so strong that it went beyond an instinct and became an imperative. These women could not feel complete, would not be a whole person until they had one, two, three children under their wings.
Sara struck Bill as the latter sort of woman. He wasn't reading much off Herb—at worst he was a yuppie wanna-be—but Sara radiated the need to nurture. It warmed the room.
"Very well," he said. "I'm satisfied so far that you two have possibilities here. I think St. Francis can help you."
They beamed at each other.
"Great!" Herb said.
"We'll run a routine check on your references, of course, but in the meantime, I'll let you look at some photos of the boys we have residing at St. Francis now. Later on—"
Suddenly Danny Gordon was charging through the office. He had a rocketship in his hand and he was making rocket noises as he roared it into orbit around Bill's desk.
"Hiya, Father!" he shouted as he passed behind Bill's desk at escape velocity. "You can be the man in the moon."'
Bill ran a hand over his mouth to hide a smile.
"You'll be going on a real trip to the real moon if you don't get back to the dorm this instant, young man."
"Back to Earth!" Danny shouted.
As he careened around the desk he came face-to-face with the Loms.
"Whoa! Aliens!"
Sara turned her dark eyes his way and smiled at him. "What's your name?"
The boy skidded to a halt and stared at her for a second, then went into orbit around her chair.
"Danny," he said. "What's yours?"
"Sara." She held out her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Danny."
Danny stopped again, this time for a couple of seconds, but he wasn't still. His feet were tapping and shuffling on the floor as he glanced from Sara's hand to Bill. Bill nodded, encouraging him to do the polite thing. Finally Danny shrugged and shook her hand.
"How old are you, Danny?" she said, keeping a grip on his hand.
"Seven."
"Has anyone ever told you what a handsome boy you are?"
"Sure. Lots of times."
Sara laughed and Bill found the sound delightful, almost musical. And then he noticed something.
Danny was standing still.
Normally by now the boy would have pulled his hand free and been on his way around the room again, racing along the walls and caroming off the furniture. But he was simply standing there talking to her. Even his feet were still.
She asked him questions about rocketships, about school, about playing, and he answered her. Danny Gordon was standing in one spot and carrying on a conversation. Bill was amazed.
He watched them together for a few more minutes, then broke in.
"Excuse me, Danny," he said, "but aren't you supposed to be tending to your chores in the dormitory?"
Danny turned the full power of his big blue eyes on Bill.
"I want to stay here with Sara."
"I'm glad that you do, and I'm sure Sara wants you to stay as well, but we're in the middle of some grown-up work here and I'm sure there's some Danny work left to be done back in the dorm. So say good-bye and I'll see you later."
Danny turned back to Sara, who smiled and gave him a little hug.
"Nice talking to you, Danny."
Danny stared at her a moment, then walked—walked—out of the office.
As Bill stared after the boy in wonder, Sara turned to him.
"That's the'boy I want."
Bill shook off his amazement and focused on the young woman.
"He's seven. I thought you were interested in an under-five child."
"I thought I was too. But now after seeing Danny I've changed my mind."
Bill glanced at Herb.
"How do you feel about an older child?"
"What Sara wants, I want," he said with a shrug.
"And I want to adopt Danny Gordon."
"That's out of the question," Bill said abruptly.
The statement surprised him. He hadn't intended to say anything like it. The words just seemed to pop out of his mouth.
Herb Lom's expression was shocked; Sara appeared hurt.
"Why… why is that out of the question?" she said
"Because he's hyperactive," Bill said.
"He looked like a normally active boy to me. And he was charming."
"What you saw here was an aberration. Believe me, I have it on good authority from a number of specialists. Raising Danny will be a tremendously demanding full-time job."
"That's true of raising any child," she said, looking at him lev-elly. "And it's a job I'm qualified to do."
Bill would not argue with the first statement, and did not want to challenge the second. He tried an end run.
"Let me get out the pictures of the other boys we have here. If you look through them I'm sure you'll—"
Sara was on her feet, a determined set to her mouth.
"I'm not interested in any other boys. I'm only interested in Danny now." Her features softened. "I don't think it's very fair to let me meet such a lovely child and then tell me I'm not good enough for him."
"I said nothing of the sort."
"Then won't you please reconsider?"
Bill opted to buy himself some time.
"Very well. I'll think about it. But quite frankly, I do not think Danny should be anyone's first child."
"He won't be," she said with a sudden sunny smile. "I practically raised my three youngest brothers. And I want to raise Danny Gordon. And with your help I'm going to do just that."
So saying, she took her husband's arm and they strode from Bill's office.
"You should have seen him this afternoon, Nick," Bill said after Danny had rushed in and disrupted their weekly chess game again. "He was a totally different kid."
Nick Quinn's eyes followed the blur of motion around the room.
"I'll have to take your word for it."
"I kid you not. He shook hands with her and he suddenly became docile. If I believed in magic, that's what I'd say it was."
"I've heard of people who have that effect on animals."
Immediately Bill felt himself bristle within. "Danny's not an animal."
"Of course he's not. I was just drawing a parallel." He scrutinized Bill. "A little touchy, aren't we?"
"Not at all." Then he thought about it. He'd been on edge since the Loms had left. Why? "Well, maybe a little."
"Because someone might adopt him?"
Bill glanced at Nick. He'd grown to be a perceptive son of a B. True, Bill had been wondering whether the prospect of facing St. F.'s without Danny Gordon running around might influence his judgment, but…
"I don't think that's it, Nick. It's possible, of course. After two years with Danny I feel as if we have a blood relationship, and it will cost me a piece of my heart to see him go, but this feels different."
"You mean like it doesn't feel right?"
Very perceptive, that Nick.
"Yes. Maybe I do mean just that."
"Well, you did say you thought he had to go to an older couple. These two don't sound as if they fit that particular criterion."
"An older, experienced couple. They don't exactly fit that either."