A Mrs. Miracle Christmas(29)

“Ah…” Zach’s head was spinning. Their caseworker didn’t know he hadn’t told Laurel about renewing their application. “I…I don’t think that would work for us.” He floundered over the words.

“It would mean a great deal to other couples with your experience.”

“I know, but—”

“I understand,” Mary inserted. “Talk it over with Laurel.”

“Okay, but I still don’t think this is something we’ll want to do.”

“I understand,” she repeated, undiscouraged. “I do. But you’re the perfect couple for this. All I’m asking is that you and Laurel discuss this and get back to me.”

    “All right,” he said, his words heavy with reluctance.

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you. Thank you, Zach.”

“Before you go,” he said, stopping her. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know if you can answer this. I feel a bit foolish pressing the point, but it would mean a great deal to us if you could give us an idea of how much longer an adoption may take. Do you realistically think there’s even a remote chance of an infant becoming available anytime soon?”

Silence followed as he waited for Mary to answer. He could sense her hesitation.

“I do know of a high school girl who’s made the decision to have an open adoption. She came into the agency a few days ago with her parents. I haven’t spoken with the caseworker who’s worked with the family. I’ve heard it’s been a difficult decision for them, and from what I understand, she’s due any day now. A Christmas baby. There’s no greater gift, is there?”

“There isn’t,” Zach agreed. He couldn’t keep the optimism swelling up inside of him under control. Unseen, and unknown, he desired this child. He thought about that bag of clothes sitting under his desk.

    “Would you happen to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“From what I understand, it is a girl.”

“Is there any possibility—” His question came to a halt, and he left the rest unsaid. Mary knew what he was asking.

“I’m sorry, Zach,” she said, her voice full of regret. “From what I heard, the birth mother has already chosen a family.”

Just as quickly as hope had risen in his heart, it died.

“I know how difficult and drawn-out this process can sometimes be,” Mary said sympathetically. “All I can suggest is to be patient.”

He inhaled, determined to remain strong. Yes, he had to hang on. “Thanks, Mary,” he said, and after exchanging genuine Christmas greetings, he ended the call.

Sitting at his desk, Zach fought discouragement. As Mary said, all they needed was patience. Only patience was in short supply.

With a determined effort, Zach returned to the work in front of him, and the afternoon flew past. He didn’t even notice that his coworkers had left for the white-elephant exchange.

“Hey, Zach—it’s time,” Joel said, slapping the back of his chair.

    Zach looked away from his computer screen and glanced up. “Time?”

“The Christmas party.”

“Oh yeah.” He closed his computer for the day, pulled out the gift-wrapped box he’d brought from home, and joined his coworkers in the conference room.

The staff milled around, sampling the desserts and finger foods that had been delivered from the catering company. With Christmas upon them, there was general chatter about holiday plans.

The party was festive, and his coworkers joked while sampling the appetizers and sweets. Zach skipped the chocolates and decorated sugar cookies, choosing instead the small triangular sandwiches. Because he’d made the run to the department store, he’d skipped lunch and was hungry for food with substance.

When it came time for the white-elephant exchange, they each drew numbers. Out of the twenty-five staff members present, Zach drew number sixteen. Some of the gifts were expertly wrapped; others were in holiday bags, and the gifts brought in by most of the single guys were wrapped in brown grocery bags. All were piled in the center of the conference table.

He knew better than to go for the pretty boxes. They had always proven to be notoriously bad choices, which was a lesson he’d learned when he’d gotten stuck with a pink polka-dot sweater. When his turn came, he took a plain gift, small and rectangular.

    When he opened it, he stopped and looked up, surprised to find it was a cigar box.

“What’s inside?” someone yelled out.

Not knowing what to expect, he opened it and gasped. Inside was row upon row of cigars with preprinted pink labels. Each one exclaimed, in large letters, IT’S A GIRL. His hand froze and his throat thickened, and he found he was unable to speak. This was it. The answer to his prayer. He’d asked God for a sign and He had given him one.

“The wife had a son,” Joel Perkins explained out loud, attempting to cover the awkward silence. “We chose not to know the sex of the baby beforehand, so to be prepared, I ordered cigar boxes for both a boy and a girl.”

Zach managed a grin and set the cigars on the tabletop. He resisted the temptation to look upward and silently thank God. Once his pulse returned to normal, he felt like he could walk on air.