The Perfect Child(100)
“Look, if I wanted to, I could go over there tonight and tell them myself. I’m not on the case anymore, and I already told you that we’re more like family than anything else now. So I’m doing you a favor by waiting to go with you in the morning.” I did my best to sound threatening.
I couldn’t bear the thought of Christopher hearing the news without someone to support him. Hannah was barely hanging on herself, and she would be relieved. Elaine had confided in me that Hannah had spoken with her about relinquishing her parental rights and rehoming Janie. I hated the term because it made children sound like pets, but there were instances where the state allowed adopted children to be returned to foster care. There was no doubt in my mind Hannah would push for that now.
And I didn’t blame her. Unlike Christopher, I knew there were children who were too damaged to be fixed. It was an awful fact of life and my job, but that didn’t make it any less true. You couldn’t fix what Janie had, but he would spend his life trying. That much I knew for sure, and he would do it alone unless I was there for him.
Luke folded his hands on the table. “You should know that Greg’s attorneys have filed a civil lawsuit against the Department of Children’s Services.” He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. “You should be aware that you are named in that suit.” He exchanged a look with Ron, then turned his attention back to me.
“I don’t care,” I said.
They needed a friend. The charges against them had made their situation public, and people were avoiding them like everyone avoided tragedy, afraid they’d catch it if they got too close.
They exchanged another look. Ron nodded before Luke spoke.
“Meet us here at eight tomorrow.”
SIXTY-ONE
HANNAH BAUER
The toilet flushed, signaling Christopher was awake. His feet plodded down the hallway, and he grabbed a cup of coffee before joining us in the living room. He stood behind the couch.
“How’d you sleep last night?” he asked like he’d done every morning since I’d been home.
“Good,” I lied.
He’d worry too much if I told him the truth. No matter how hard he tried to hide his worry for my sake, deep lines of it were carved in his forehead. I hated what Greg’s charges had done to him. The case had stripped every shred of confidence he’d had left.
He planted a kiss on my forehead. “Can I take him?”
I nodded. He scooped Cole from me tenderly, and I struggled with the emotions in my throat. Sometimes his kindness hurt too much. I wanted him to hate me. That’s what I deserved.
Christopher held him up, and Cole cooed, his eyes dancing with joy. He added new sounds every day. We both grinned as he babbled. I burst out laughing when he blew a spit bubble, then was immediately swallowed up by guilt because happiness felt like a betrayal to Allison. Mom kept telling me we needed to give it time, but time wouldn’t heal this wound. I’d miss Allison just as much in ten years as I did today, but time would move forward regardless of our loss. That much was a given, and Cole would be the force pulling us along. He was the reason we got up in the morning. For now that was enough. It had to be.
Christopher and I didn’t speak about how hard things were, but we didn’t speak about much these days. Our suffering was too big for words. But it was better that way. I preferred it over the clichés we got from other people. One of my coworkers had sent me a card that said you needed to find beauty in the broken. I wanted there to be beauty, but I could only see broken.
He laid Cole on his lap. The two of them fit together perfectly. Cole favored him more every day. Their lips even turned up the same way when they smiled. Christopher tickled Cole’s stomach until he squealed with laughter. My heart swelled with love for them.
This. This is how it was supposed to be. Me, Christopher, and our baby.
I pushed the thoughts away. Thoughts like that only destroyed me. I didn’t need any therapist to tell me that.
“Do you want to take a walk after breakfast?” he asked.
I nodded.
Our walks were new. We’d only started them last week. I hadn’t been able to hide my panic attacks from him for long, and he’d quickly learned to recognize the signs. I’d balked when he’d suggested going for a walk on the brink of one of my attacks, as my biggest fear was having an accident in public because I couldn’t get to a bathroom in time, but he’d promised we would only go around the block. I had started feeling better by the time we’d been at the end of the sidewalk, so we’d just kept going. We worked them into our day as often as we could, and our first one was after breakfast. We rarely spoke, but something about the outdoors made it okay even when it felt suffocating in the house. Yesterday we’d walked two miles without saying a word.
Cole was happiest when we walked. Christopher strapped him to his chest in the Baby Bjorn, facing him forward because he liked to see what was happening. Once we’d walked in the direction of the park and had run into a few mothers who had recognized us. We hadn’t made that mistake again. All our miles were in the opposite direction of the park. We’d gotten to pass through neighborhoods we’d never been in before.
Cole stirred in Christopher’s lap, and I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I leaned close and inhaled the smell of his vanilla-mint baby shampoo. I would get through this for him. I had to. I made myself concentrate on what Christopher was saying, doing more than nodding my head at the appropriate time and faking interest like I did most days. He was in the middle of telling me about Janie’s new social worker, Elaine.