Two Weeks (The Baxter Family #5)(78)

Opened them and looked right at Elise.

“Hello, there.” Elise felt an ocean of pain building in her heart and throat. “I’m your mama, baby. I love you.”

Gracie Anne blinked a few times. Maybe it was just Elise’s desperate imagination, but for a few seconds her baby looked straight to Elise’s heart. To the very center of her. As if to say she understood what was about to happen and she’d be fine with Aaron and Lucy. Better than fine. And that right here, while they still had the chance, she wanted Elise to know it was okay. That she would always love her for making this decision.

All of that seemed to come from the newborn in the time it took Elise to breathe. And in that same instant Elise noticed something. How natural it felt to hold her baby. This was her baby, a part of her. She always would be.

“Your grandma wanted to be here, baby girl. She loves you, too.” In the end she had decided it was best for her mom to stay back in Louisiana. If Elise changed her mind and kept the baby, her mother would see the child soon enough. If not, there was no point, no reason for her mom to be part of the heartache of this goodbye.

So she had done what Elise asked and stayed home. Elise was still looking into her baby girl’s face, still taking in her soft newborn smell. Still feeling the gentle rise and fall of her tiny chest with every breath.

“Jesus loves you, Gracie Anne. Remember that.” A soft sob caught in her throat. “And no one’s ever going to hurt you.”

Suddenly she knew just what she wanted to do. She opened her lips and began to sing. The same song her mama had sung to her. The one she carried with her even in her darkest days. And like her mother had done so many years ago, she changed the words just slightly. So that the song was directed straight to her baby girl. “Jesus loves you, this I know . . . for the Bible tells me so.”

Another tear fell on her little girl’s cheek. “Yes, Jesus loves you . . .”

The whole time, little Gracie Anne watched her, studied her. And so Elise memorized the moment, held on to it. This would be the only time she would ever sing over her daughter. Every single second was etching itself into her heart and soul.

When the song ended, a flash from her nightmare about Randy came to mind. She didn’t want to worry about him ever being a threat to their baby girl’s life. It was another reason the adoption made sense. She didn’t want any connection with Randy. Not ever again.

Elise could hear the soft steps of the nurse as she approached her room. A final thought hit her as she held her baby close. Gracie Anne looked just like her, like the baby picture her mother had texted her a few weeks ago. Dark hair, high cheekbones. Elise ran her finger over her baby’s forehead. “Little princess.”

The nurse entered the room and came closer. Slowly. Like she didn’t want to rush the moment for Elise. But Elise was ready.

She held her baby girl to her face, cheek to cheek once more, and whispered so only her daughter could hear. “I will never, ever forget you, Gracie Anne.” She kissed her head, her velvet-soft face. “I love you, baby girl.”

That was all she could take. She would collapse to the floor if the goodbye lasted any longer. “Please.” She looked up at the nurse. “Take her.”

There were no words from the nurse. What could either of them say? The older woman bent down and took the beautiful baby from her arms. Elise couldn’t stand to watch her leave, so she closed her eyes. Squeezed them shut as tight as she could.

Though she had known this moment would be hard, she’d wanted it anyway. Wanted to talk to her daughter and tell her goodbye. Sing to her. But she hadn’t expected this ache, this very deep hurt that came from her heart and radiated down her empty arms. The only reason she could keep breathing was because she knew the truth. Her decision to say goodbye wasn’t yet final.

Not for two weeks.

? ? ?

THEO SET THE car seat down in the private office on the first floor of the hospital and took the chair next to his wife.

“I still can’t believe this.” Alma looked wide-eyed, like everything about the moment might only be a dream.

“That Vienna would push us to take in foster babies the hour before she went to heaven.” Theo shook his head. “And now . . . here we are.”

“You’re sure, right?” She looked at him. “You can handle this? Knowing that she has to leave us so soon.”

Theo didn’t blink, didn’t look away. He could feel the heartache in his eyes, the one that would be with him as long as he lived. “Sometimes little girls leave too soon.” He smiled. “No one knows that like us.”

Tears filled Alma’s eyes and she nodded. “Yes.” She took a tissue from the desk and dabbed at her face. “I won’t cry. Hold me to that, Theo. I won’t cry. This is foster care. Help me remember.”

“Yes. I’ll help you.” He put his arm around her. “But some days we’ll have to help each other.”

Foster care came with certain rules and understandings. Loving a child was encouraged. Attachment was not. Most foster children were only placed in a home short-term. Always the goal was reunification with the parent.

But this case was so different. Theo’s voice fell. “I wonder if Mr. Green would’ve called us. If he’d known about Vienna.”

“Probably not.” Alma sniffed. She was finding her composure. Theo could see her making the effort. “But there’re no foster parents in all the state who will love this little girl like we will. Even for two weeks.”