Chapter 11 - The Meeting Ryan Wasn’t Invited To
Hannah made coffee.
Luke stayed home from work.
Jenna brought June.
I drove.
That was my entire assigned role.
I kept reminding myself.
Hannah asked:
“Do you want us to hold her?”
Jenna thought.
“Not yet.”
Hannah nodded.
No visible devastation.
No performance.
Luke asked:
“What do you need from us?”
Jenna stared at the baby.
“I need to hear what happens if I change my mind later.”
He looked at Hannah.
Then back.
“We'd follow whatever legal rights exist.”
Jenna shook her head.
“Not legally.”
They waited.
“If I call six months later and say I made a mistake.”
The room changed.
Hannah's eyes filled.
She answered carefully.
“I don't know.”
Good answer.
Jenna watched her.
Hannah continued.
“If the adoption is final, June would be our daughter.”
Jenna nodded.
“I know.”
“But if we have the open relationship we've discussed, you could tell us you're hurting.”
“That isn't the same as getting her back.”
“No.”
Jenna looked down.
Luke said:
“We can't promise something we couldn't responsibly promise.”
Ryan would have promised.
That thought came uninvited.
Jenna asked:
“What if she hates me?”
Hannah cried then.
Quietly.
“I hope we'd never teach her to.”
Jenna looked at me.
I did nothing.
After two hours, we left.
No signatures.
In the car Jenna said:
“I wanted them to say they'd give her back.”
I started the engine.
“I know.”
“Then I'd know I had an escape.”
I waited.
“She deserves parents who don't think of themselves as temporary.”
She started crying.
I pulled into an empty parking space.
No advice.
She cried until June started too.
Then we both laughed because timing can be cruel.
Jenna took the baby out of the carrier.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“I love her.”
“I know.”
“I don't want to do diapers for two years.”
I almost smiled.
“You have longer bad news.”
She laughed through tears.
Then:
“I think I still want the adoption.”
My chest tightened.
“Okay.”
“Don't say it like that.”
“How?”
“Like you're approving.”
“Sorry.”
She stared at the steering wheel.
“I need to talk to my counselor tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Then the attorney.”
“Okay.”
“Then maybe sign.”
I nodded.
She looked at me.
“What do you think?”
There it was.
A real invitation.
I took my time.
“I think you have sounded more like yourself today than you did when Ryan was arranging everybody around you.”
She waited.
“I also think if you changed your mind and parented, I would help in ways we agreed on.”
Her eyes filled again.
“And if I don't?”
“I’ll help in ways we agree on.”
She stared at me for several seconds.
Then nodded.
When I brought her back to the hotel, Ryan's car was nowhere nearby.
Good.
Inside my own house that evening, Ryan asked only one question.
“Is Jenna safe?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
Then walked away.
I called after him.
“She may proceed with the adoption.”
His shoulders stiffened.
He didn't turn.
For several seconds I thought he would start.
She’s tired.
She’s scared.
She’ll regret it.
Instead he said:
“Okay.”
The word sounded painful.
Then he went upstairs.
That night I found him sitting on the floor of the empty guest room.
No bassinet.
No diapers.
Nothing waiting.
I stood in the doorway.
He looked up.
“I know this isn't my decision.”
I said nothing.
He continued.
“I also hate it.”
“You can.”
His eyes filled.
“I don't know what to do with that.”
“Maybe nothing.”
He laughed softly.
“That is a terrible plan.”
“For you.”
He nodded.
May you like
Yes.
For him.
