The Perfect Child(23)

“No idea.”

“Were there any men who’d hurt Becky in the past?”

She’d raised her eyebrows. “Were there any who didn’t?”





THIRTEEN

CHRISTOPHER BAUER

I was so excited to bring Janie home, but the sheer magnitude of the task at hand pummeled me when we walked through the front door, and I froze. The entryway stretched out in front of me, leading to our rustic living room with the burnt-orange accent wall I’d insisted on. The sun from the bay windows drenched the room in light, illuminating every piece we’d so thoughtfully and lovingly designed, but nothing felt safe or familiar. Everything looked different, even the artwork. Suddenly, all this time opened up in front of us. Hannah and I had each taken three weeks of vacation to be with Janie until they matched her with a family, but now that we had her home, what were we supposed to do with her?

Hannah took one look at my face and read what I couldn’t say.

“Why don’t we all get something to eat?” she asked. Even though food was a touchy issue with Janie, it was the one thing guaranteed to make her happy, and we’d purposefully scheduled our arrival to coincide with her snack time. Hannah stretched her hand out to me, and I grasped it, grateful for her lead. We filed into the kitchen.

The rest of our house was homey and inviting, filled with our down-to-earth style and lived-in looks, but the kitchen was a different story. It was set up with purpose and function in mind. The kitchen was supposed to be the heart of the home and the place people spent the most time, but not with us, since both of us hated to cook. I would be perfectly content ordering takeout every night or heating microwave meals, but Hannah insisted on cooking, so it was all designed to make things easy for her. There was open shelving so that she knew exactly where everything was, and it was easy to grab.

We had set up a whiteboard on the refrigerator so Janie could see when she was going to eat, just like at the hospital. Her timer was on the kitchen island. We had bought the same one the nurses had used. Our goal was to keep everything like the hospital so we could maintain her routines. We hoped her adoptive parents would do the same.

Hannah unlocked the refrigerator. Janie let go of my hand and ran to it. Her eyes grew big as she took it all in. She’d probably never seen a full refrigerator before, and ours was stacked. It was all neatly organized and labeled in storage containers.

“Janie, I want you to know that this is your food.” Hannah waved her hand around, pointing to each shelf. “All of it. You will always have enough to eat in our house. We are always going to feed you, okay?”

She was too busy eyeing all the food and fingering the Tupperware full of colorful sliced fruit—Hannah’s work—to respond. She pointed to the strawberries. “That. I want that,” she said.

Hannah pulled out the strawberries.

“And that. And that. And that.” She pointed so quickly it was hard to tell what she was pointing at.

Hannah laughed and pulled out some cheese along with a few slices of salami. “How about we put some of these on crackers?”

Janie’s smile grew even wider, and I finally felt like I could breathe. I took a seat at the island. I had only sat on the stools when we were deciding which ones to purchase, because we rarely ate in the kitchen. We usually carried our meals into the living room to watch whatever show we were currently bingeing on. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as Janie crawled onto my lap. Maybe we didn’t spend time in the kitchen because we’d never had a reason to before. Hannah lined the island counter with food and pulled the other stool closer to us. I reached over and rubbed Hannah’s back as she stared at Janie in awe. Janie shoveled food in her mouth. Hannah flashed me a smile, her eyes filled with happy tears.



All my nerves had been for nothing. It had been an amazing day. It’d gone better than I could’ve expected. The three of us were snuggled on Janie’s bed reading books together. We’d been in the same position for over an hour.

“One more,” Janie said after Hannah finished the book. She loved reading. It was one of her favorite activities.

“You promised you’d go to sleep if we read Whistle for Willie.” Hannah closed the book and gave her a pointed look. We’d already read it three times. It was past ten o’clock.

She stuck her lower lip out. “I don’t wanna sleep.”

“Christopher and I are going to be right outside your door if you need us, okay?”

“If you need anything, all you have to do is call us, and we’ll come,” I said, rubbing my hand across her cheek.

She nodded obligingly. We each gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then we laid her down on the bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and tucked her stuffed animals around her. She smiled up at us. “Good night,” she said sweetly.

“Good night, Janie,” we sang back in unison.

We left her door open a crack and plopped down on the couch in the family room outside her room. The glow from the night-lights edging the hallway cast shadows on the wall. I put my feet up on the coffee table and let out a deep sigh. We’d no sooner settled on the couch when Janie bounced out of her room carrying her dinosaur.

“Hiya,” she said. “Whatcha doing?”

I looked at Hannah, and we both tried not to laugh.

“We’re resting. Just like you’re supposed to be doing,” I said. I took her hand and led her back to her room, where I tucked her in like we’d just done.