Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Aaron cocked his head curiously. “Are you nervous to meet him?”
“God, yes,” I admitted with a laugh. “Petrified.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Will he like us?”
“He’s eleven months old, so…I think he’ll give us a chance.”
“Maybe, but c’mon, there’s so much we don’t know about babies. Being an uncle or a godfather is easy—you get to return them to their parents at the end of the day. We’d be the parents. Us. And two kids at different stages of babyhood? Geez, I have so many questions. Does one child take away from the other? How do we juggle family and careers? Will we ever sleep? Having a baby was all we’ve talked about for months—no, years. But an insta-family is a whole other thing. Are we up for this?”
Aaron’s smile was serene, patient, and loving. “We are. Me and you together…we can handle anything, Matty.”
I believed him.
We leaned in, side by side, reveling in the enormity of the moment and the possible changes ahead of us. Life might never be the same again.
fourteen
The mountain of legalese involved in an adoption could intimidate even the most seasoned lawyer. But not one who specialized in contracts and had a vested interest in creating an airtight, impossible-to-penetrate, binding agreement. I spent long hours fussing with concise and foolproof terminology and conferring with some of the most respected legal minds in my field.
And Curt.
“This is solid, man. It should be your final draft.”
“You think?”
“For sure. I’ve seen six of these already. How many more iterations do you need before you’re satisfied?” Curt scrolled through the final pages and pushed my laptop across my desk.
“I need it to be perfect. I had Hughes and Kelleford review the paper work too, and I went through it for the umpteenth time last night. I can’t think of anything else to add.”
“There’s nothing left to add,” Curt huffed, softening his snark with an empathetic smile. “It’s a done deal.”
We hadn’t wanted to share the news about the adoption until we had more information, but we made a couple of exceptions, like Curt and Jack, and Peter and Jay. We needed the support of friends who could be sounding boards and cheerleaders, ready with a “You got this” over a beer or a glass of wine at the end of yet another stressful day.
Our parents and other friends checked in regularly to find out how Lena was doing and ask if there were any newborn updates. We needed that too…a sweet reminder that good things were on the horizon no matter what else was going on in our lives.
But Curt was right. Legally, this could be a done deal as soon as all parties signed on the dotted lines.
I closed my laptop with a nod. “Yeah, I think it’s as complete as can be.”
Curt straightened his legs and sat back in the chair. “When do you meet him?”
“In an hour,” I replied, my gaze shifting automatically to my cell. “Aaron’s coming to the office, and we’re driving together to the courthouse. Even if all goes well, it could still be another few days or even weeks till it’s finalized…which sucks, but one day at a time, right?”
“Love that attitude. What can I do?”
The question threw me off guard for a beat. “I…what do you mean?”
“You’re going to need shit. Toys, teething stuff, babyproofing kits. If he’s not walking yet, he will be soon, and toddlers get into everything. You remember how Holly and Henry were for Jay and Peter. Bonkers! Jack and I can pick up some things for you. And you’ll need babysitters. Kids love me, and they love Jack even more.” Curt wrinkled his brow. “I don’t know why. I’m goofier for sure, but he’s more fun somehow. And he’s hot. I don’t think kids care about that, though.”
I chuckled. “Thank you, Curt. Wish us luck.”
He stood and skirted my desk, pulling me to my feet and in for a bear hug. “You don’t need it. You and Aar are going to be the world’s best fucking dads ever.”
I was so nervous, it wasn’t even funny. This eleven-month-old baby had been a phantom in our lives since well before he was born. He was a dream who’d unwittingly become a larger-than-life figure in our definition of family. We’d planned for him, worried about him, listened to his heartbeat, marveled at his size as his mom’s belly had grown.
Funny enough, we’d never met him on an ultrasound. We’d seen the pics and video, but we hadn’t been in the room with her. Cassie had done the first one prior to the initial adoption proceedings, and she hadn’t invited us to view the second one. She’d gone with her mother, or so she’d claimed. I’d later realized that this was roughly the time that the paternal grandparents had entered the picture and begun the campaign that would throw the adoption off course. Two and a half months later, we’d been cut out of the equation completely with another two-plus months of pregnancy to go.