Child Wanted. Renee Andrews
she would never be okay without her son.
The social worker glanced at her bag, then added, “He’s recently been placed at Willow’s Haven, the children’s home nearby, and he’s still adjusting to the new environment. His name is Jerry.”
Jerry. Adrenaline burned through her at the mere mention of his name. She’d found him. This was her little boy. Her son. Right here. Merely feet away after so many minutes, hours and days—three long years—staring at the walls of a four-by-eight cell and dreaming of seeing him again, longing to hold him again. But the odds were against her, and she had to maintain her composure to have any chance of spending time with him now.
The attorney’s words from this morning’s conversation echoed through her thoughts.
Your son’s adoption may have already been finalized, and if that’s the case, it’ll be even more difficult for you to obtain custody again through a reverse adoption, where the court basically reverses the decision and returns the child to his biological parent.
Lindy swallowed thickly, looked toward her little boy and silently prayed. Please, God, You know how much I need him in my life. And You know how much he needs me. “So is he—Can he be adopted?”
The woman placed a hand on her bulging red satchel. “That’s our goal. I’m Candace Yost, the social worker assigned to Jerry’s case. Yes, eventually he can be adopted. And I feel certain he’ll have his forever home this time.” She looked fondly toward Ethan.
A shiver of fear inched down Lindy’s spine as the man between Lindy and the social worker—and between Lindy and her son—turned toward her and displayed a smile that typically melted a female’s heart, the kind that had once melted Lindy’s.
Not anymore. The only male she cared about now was the four-year-old on the other side of the fountain.
“I’m Ethan Green,” he said, “and I want to adopt Jerry.”
She looked beyond this Ethan Green, who with a simple introduction had become her biggest adversary, and instead focused on Jerry, now feeding the geese. “I do, too.”
* * *
Lindy’s jolt at realizing her little boy was merely feet away had affected her ability to choose words wisely. She’d spoken the truth. She wanted to adopt Jerry. More precisely, she wanted to regain custody of her son. Thankfully, she hadn’t made that statement, or the looks of surprise on both their faces would more likely have been looks of horror.
“You...want to adopt Jerry?” Ethan’s question smacked Lindy with the same rousing force as the water from the fountain hit those determined geese. It woke her up and made her realize her error—and also caused her to look at the man who reminded her of the husband who’d hurt her so badly. The man who intended to adopt her child.
Her. Child.
She needed to rectify her mistake, or she might not get a chance to spend more time with Jerry and find a way to have him in her life again.
“I meant that I would also like to adopt a child.” She prayed they couldn’t hear the wobble in her voice brought on by this landslide of emotions. After quickly organizing her thoughts, she explained, “I—wouldn’t be able to adopt right now, though.”
The truth of that statement slammed her with the same intensity as Nika’s fists in the prison yard, when Lindy had mistakenly crossed paths with the inmate known as the Agitator. Or Gil’s fists on practically every night of their marriage.
Lindy pushed the horrid memories away and watched her son, so quiet and withdrawn, the way he’d always been when Gil was at home and he was afraid of his daddy’s temper. Even at just fourteen months, he’d known to be fearful of his father. But when it’d just been the two of them in the house, when he’d been alone with Lindy, he’d laughed, smiled, played.
Would he now be consumed by sadness forever?
She wanted to hold him, hug him. But he hadn’t recognized her, hadn’t known his mother at all.
And why should he? Not only did she look different now, but he’d been a baby when she left. Now he was a little boy. The three years apart might as well have been ten.
He didn’t know her.
The social worker cleared her throat. “Why wouldn’t you be able to adopt, Lindy?” Her tone was gentle, as though she knew the agony tormenting Lindy’s soul.
Lindy wanted to sprint the few feet to Jerry, pick him up and run. She wanted to go somewhere where she could take the time to show him that she loved him, and that she’d never, ever stopped loving him. But that would only make things worse. She needed to find a better way. A right way. A legal way.
Swallowing, she explained, “I couldn’t adopt a child now because I’ve...had a tough time over the past few years. I don’t have a family, or a job, or even a place to live.” Her stomach pitched at the truth. “I don’t have anything to offer a child.”
The couple on the other side of the fountain had started walking toward them and must have overheard her statement, because the woman moved toward Lindy’s bench and sat down. “That can’t be true,” she said softly. “Because the main thing kids need in their lives is love.”
Throughout her years at the prison, Lindy had taught herself not to cry. Crying was a weakness, and she couldn’t let the other inmates see her as the weakest. Consequently, she’d believed she no longer possessed the ability to release her tears. But they slipped free now, thick, wet drops edging down her cheeks.
Lindy wiped them away. “I don’t know what has me so upset.” The lie stung. She knew exactly what had her upset. Her son was here, right in front of her, and she had no idea what to do to get him back.
Forgive me, Lord. And help me now. Show me how to have Jerry in my life again. She was still trying to work her way back toward trusting God. Though she’d learned in the prison ministry that He’d never leave her, she still wondered where He had been the night the police had torn Jerry from her arms and charged her with her husband’s murder.
“Here.” Ethan moved toward her, a white handkerchief extended from his hand.
To ignore the offering might make the others wonder what she had against the man, so she took the soft white fabric and swiped at her cheeks. A crisp scent, earthy and masculine, filled her senses. She fought against inhaling deeper. She didn’t want to like this man, or the way he smelled, or the fact that, unlike any man she’d ever known, he still carried a handkerchief. “Thank you.”
The woman next to her, who now had an arm draped around Lindy’s shoulders, echoed her thoughts. “You carry a handkerchief?”
Ethan smiled. “I teach eighth graders. You know, the age when every girl gets her feelings hurt by another girl at some point in the school year. It never hurts to have a handkerchief handy.”
He taught school. And seemed nice. How would Lindy ever convince a court that she should have Jerry instead of this man?
Because she knew from past experience how a man could sway her opinion with his gorgeous good looks, or his swoonworthy charm. Gil had fooled the public—and Lindy—into believing he was a great catch and a good guy...and then had been the exact opposite behind closed doors.
“Here.” She attempted to return the handkerchief, but Ethan shook his head.
“You keep it. Like I said, I go through them rather quickly, and I have plenty more.” Another charming smile, showing off straight white teeth amid a tan face, threatened to knock her senses off balance. “Seriously, keep it,” he said.
Lindy didn’t have the wherewithal to argue, so she nodded. “Thanks.” Then she caught sight of Jerry, easing toward the fountain with the last bits of his bread.
“Look at that one with the bread on his back,” one of the twins said, giggling and pointing.
Jerry followed the direction of her finger