The Family Gathering (Sullivan's Crossing #3)(86)

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, I really do guess. But of course I have absolutely no way of knowing. Do you want me to peek and see if your cervix is blue and your uterus just slightly swollen?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll get a Pap done while I’m at it,” she said. “Let me grab a nurse or someone. Would you be upset if I had the janitor... Never mind,” she said, laughing. “Of course it will be a nurse.”

And then she was gone again. Sierra was in love with her.

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Culver said, “I’m guessing four to six weeks. Everything else in the pelvis is fine. And you can go ahead and stop taking those birth control pills.” She laughed happily at her joke.

“Did Connie tell you we’re in the adoption process?”

“No, he didn’t mention that,” she said. “On a waiting list?”

“No,” Sierra said. “We’re fostering a little boy, six months old. His mother was killed in a car accident and we’re adopting him with his maternal grandmother’s approval.”

“Six months?” Dr. Culver said. “Wow. You think you were tired before...”

“I know. Can you wave your magic wand and make this little surprise a girl?”

“I charge extra for that,” she said. Then the doctor leaned close, squeezed Sierra’s shoulder and said, “You’re going to have a wonderful family. Try not to worry. Try to enjoy all the enjoyable parts—there are many. And when you’re at the end of your rope, you can come in and complain to me for a dollar a minute.”

Sierra laughed.

“I can’t count the number of patients I’ve had who get pregnant just a few months into the adoption process. It’s amazing. I think holding a baby must make some women fire off eggs like rockets.”

“Is it really only three to five percent that things go terribly wrong?”

“Oh, sweetheart, I have no idea. I made that up. But I bet I’m close if not right on!”

Sierra went home feeling especially blessed. It looked like they had a healthy and beautiful baby boy and a perfectly blossoming pregnancy.

Two days later, the doorbell rang and her world crashed and burned.

Mrs. Jergens stood there with another woman, introduced as the social worker from the county. Mrs. Jergens was a little hunched from her arthritis, the knuckles on her hands swollen and some of her fingers bent. “I can’t do it,” she said. “I can’t give away my flesh and blood grandchild.”





   Family not only need to consist of merely those whom we share blood, but also for those

whom we’d give blood.

   —CHARLES DICKENS





17

SIERRA GRABBED HER CHEST. She tried to keep her head even though her heart was hammering. “Come in,” Sierra said. “Let’s talk about this.”

“I’m not going to change my mind,” the older woman said.

The social worker introduced herself. “I’m Jeanne Blasette,” she said. And then she looked down.

“I didn’t say come in and change your mind. Just please come in. Sam’s having a nap but he won’t be asleep long. Please,” Sierra said, holding the door open. She thanked God the house was perfect. She’d thought about leaving the clean laundry on the sofa to fold, all the shoes scattered, dishes in the sink. But she’d had a spurt of energy and knew she’d better make use of it. There were even vacuum cleaner tracks on the carpet.

Molly sauntered into the room, and when she saw they had company, her back end began to wag and wiggle ferociously. “Molly, sit,” Sierra commanded. Molly must have heard the panic in her voice because she instantly sat with no argument.

“Can I get you something to drink? At least a water?”

“I’ll have a water,” Mrs. Jergens said, leaning on that cane with two hands.

“Please, sit down. I’ll get you both water.”

When she got to the kitchen, she grabbed her phone off the counter and texted Connie. Can you come home? They’re taking Sam from us! I’ll text Cal. And to Cal she texted, Help! Sam’s grandmother is here to take him away from us! Can you come?

Then she grabbed two bottled waters from the fridge and two glasses, taking them back to the living room. “I texted my husband, Mrs. Jergens. I’m sure if he’s not out on a call, he’ll be here soon. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I just couldn’t sleep over it,” she said, tears coming to her eyes. “I should at least try to take care of Sam. He’s mine, after all.”

“I know it must have been a very difficult decision, but we won’t take him away from you. You’ll be a part of our family.” When she said the word family, she hiccuped a little.

“My cousin’s girl, Sandy—she said she’d stay with me and help with the baby. That should make it easier.”

“But what if you get sick?” Sierra asked. “Or have a particularly bad day and just can’t lift him? Or hold him? He’s already a hefty little guy.”

“I know you’re disappointed but I can’t take a chance that I’d have terrible regrets! I had to make a decision before the adoption is final. Once it’s final... You wouldn’t want me to wait until then. Then we’d have to go to court and I don’t know that I’d do so well, with the arthritis and all.”