Adopted Parents (12 page)

Hallie’s feelings were right there on her face. Her dejection over Ahn preferring anyone but her.

Nate lowered his camera. He would give anything if Ahn would grant Hallie that same kind of smile just once. He’d talked to Deb about Ahn’s indifference to Hallie, even though he knew Hallie would be furious if she knew that he had. And he’d been surprised when Deb’s assessment had been that maybe Hallie was trying too hard to win Ahn’s trust, and Ahn could sense that.

But her explanation certainly fit the situation.

There wasn’t anyone who could have been more patient, more caring or more loving toward Ahn than Hallie had been over these past months. And for Hallie’s sake, Nate prayed Ahn would one day reward her for all her efforts.

He brought the camera up again when Hallie looked in his direction. The look she was giving him was sultry—a promise of what he could expect later. She leaned back, balancing her weight on her hands, knowing exactly what she was doing to him as her full breasts strained against the soft fabric of the top she was wearing.

The little tease.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

Nate would save those pictures for himself.

But Nate almost laughed when Roberta turned to say something to Hallie and she sat up straight. He snapped a few pictures of that, too—her cheeks flushed and guilty-looking.

But at least, Roberta had rewarded Hallie earlier. She’d told Nate on the ride to the park that Roberta had actually said she was proud of Hallie. It made Nate glad he’d encouraged Hallie when she’d mentioned inviting Roberta and The Colonel today.

His mother’s illness didn’t make it possible for him to turn bad memories into good memories now—other than his satisfaction at being there for his mother instead of running from his responsibility. But Hallie and Roberta still had a chance. And Nate hoped the good memories like the one they were making right now would eventually end some of the tension that existed between them.

“Nate,” Roberta suddenly called out. “Put the camera down and come sit with us. It’s time for the fireworks.”

Nate did as he was told.

He sat down in a cross-legged position on the opposite side of the blanket from Hallie right beside The Colonel. Ahn wasted no time climbing out of Roberta’s lap and heading straight for him. Ahn had just settled against him, her head resting back against Nate’s chest, when the first of the fireworks exploded across the sky in a burst of brilliant colors.

Oohs and ahhs skipped across the large crowd gathered in the park and everyone applauded in approval. Ahn surprised Nate by putting her little hands together and clapping along with everyone else.

He automatically looked over at Hallie.

She was smiling over Ahn’s latest achievement, pushing her own disappointment aside to celebrate Ahn doing one more thing that proved Ahn was slowly making progress.

Nate smiled back at her.

Never had he loved Hallie more.

Their documentary was already garnering attention even though the film wasn’t completed.

“I never expected to get this kind of reaction to the idea,” Nate said. “And I don’t think Dirk did, either.”

“But now that you have received so much attention, you’re ready to run with it, right?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about all the doors this film could open up for me. Of course, if someone had told me six months ago I would give up photojournalism for documentary film, I would have laughed in their face.”

The huge red flag went up so fast Hallie was almost blinded.

Hallie untangled herself from Nate’s embrace and reached over to turn on the bedside light. She brought her knees to her chest as she pulled the sheet up around her.

“That’s what you’re considering? Giving up photojournalism altogether?”

Nate sat up to face her, resting his back against the headboard. “Does that concern you?”

“Yes,” Hallie said. “If you’re thinking about changing careers for all the wrong reasons.”

He frowned. “Okay, Hallie. I can already see where you’re going with this.”

“Good,” Hallie said. “We aren’t living our own lives right now, Nate. We’re living Janet and David’s. And it worries me when I think you’ve forgotten that. Can you really see yourself never going on another international assignment? Because I do not see me continuing this stay-at-home saga and never going back to work.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Truthfully, I don’t know. But I’m not going to lie and say it hasn’t crossed my mind that since we’re together it might be better to call off the readoption.”

“Better for whom, Nate?”

He refused to answer.

“That’s the problem,” Hallie said. “Ahn deserves better. She deserves parents who have chosen to have children and who don’t have any doubts about it.”

He sighed. “I know that. But I love that little girl, Hallie.”

Hallie leaned over and kissed him. “I love her, too, Nate. I want the best for her, which is why we need to love her enough to be who we’re supposed to be to her—her aunt and uncle. We’ll always be there for her. Always. But we can’t cheat Ahn out of the type of parents she deserves.”

Hallie switched off the light.

Nate put both arms around her when she snuggled against him. They stayed that way for a long time. Both awake but neither saying a word.

As she drifted off to sleep, Hallie felt a little better about the situation. She’d told Nate exactly where she stood when it came to the readoption. She’d never let him think because they were together now, she might feel any other way. If she lost Nate in the end, it would break her heart.

But she’d never let Ahn pay the price to keep him.

It was a reminder that another long week would begin tomorrow with nothing for her to look forward to but the same mundane routine that was slowly driving her insane.

She walked out onto the deck to call Nate and Ahn in for lunch. Hallie paused for a moment, leaning against the banister as she watched them on the dock.

They were feeding the wild ducks that were abundant on the pond. Nate had squatted down, keeping Ahn safely between his legs while he handed her pieces of bread to throw. The scene should have warmed Hallie’s heart.

It didn’t.

Out of necessity, they’d become a temporary family. Out of necessity, she and Nate had stopped being who they were and handed their lives over to a two-year-old. And out of necessity, they would keep doing exactly what they were doing until the situation changed.

There were days when Hallie was proud of them for taking responsibility for the niece they both loved. Then there were days like today when she felt as if she were suffocating.

Living in limbo was miserable.

The only thing that kept her going was the
temporary
part. Hallie constantly reminded herself that the way they were living wouldn’t last forever. Once Ahn was settled, all three of them would be able to move on with their lives.

What the future held for her and Nate after Ahn, however, Hallie wasn’t sure. He hadn’t said another word about calling off the readoption. But Hallie couldn’t be sure if that was because Nate had realized she was right, or if it was because Nate was holding on to the hope that she would eventually change her mind. Frankly, a part of her didn’t want to know because she simply hadn’t had the energy to fight about it.

Her current ambitions had been reduced to making it through another day having not pulled out her hair. And finding what solace she could in Nate’s arms when night finally rolled around. A far cry from the woman who’d climbed the ladder at the TV station.

There had been some caveats during the past few weeks. Ahn had finally started to pay attention to the other kids in play group—not outright joining in to play with them, but acknowledging their presence. She was also running as well as walking, and the pediatrician had been amazed at how much progress they were making with her physical therapy. Ahn had even started using a spoon to feed herself. Even better, she was eating her vegetables without having to be coaxed.

That thought reminded Hallie why she’d walked outside in the first place. She called out to Nate, telling them to come in for lunch.

Nate looked over his shoulder and waved, so Hallie walked back inside the house.

She’d already set two places at the kitchen bar for her and Nate. By the time she prepared Ahn’s peas and carrots and took Ahn’s dish out of the microwave, Nate was coming out of the bathroom off the kitchen with Ahn. He placed Ahn into her high chair and snapped the tray into place.

“Show Hallie your hands,” he said. “All clean now.”

Ahn, of course, didn’t show her hands to Hallie.

She showed them to Nate instead.

But Nate held his clean hands out for Hallie.

And he winked at her when he did.

Hallie rolled her eyes at Nate. But she praised Ahn, placed the food in front of her and handed Ahn her spoon. “Peas and carrots,” Hallie said automatically. “Can you say peas and carrots?”

Ahn looked down at the peas and carrots and pushed the dish away. Next, she threw her spoon on the floor.

Hallie raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Ahn stared her down defiantly.

Hallie slowly bent, picked up the spoon and went to the sink to wash it off. When she returned, she pushed the bowl closer to Ahn and held out the spoon again.

“Be a good girl and eat your lunch. Can you say lunch?”

Ahn slapped her hand away.

Hallie lost it. “Can you say time-out? Because we’re getting ready to have a serious chat about time-out, young lady.”

Instead, Ahn said, “Pizza.”

Hallie dropped the spoon.

When she turned to see if Nate had heard, he was grinning. The next thing Hallie knew, she and Nate were dancing around the kitchen like two idiots. And Ahn was looking at both them as if they were crazy.

They were crazy.

Deliriously crazy.

Ahn had just said her first word.

“This calls for a celebration,” Nate said, taking Ahn out of her chair and dancing around the kitchen with her. “If Ahn wants pizza for lunch, I say we go out for pizza.”

“Absolutely. You go put her in the car and I’ll grab my purse and keys.”

As Hallie headed for the stairs, she heard Nate say, “I’d back off on the spoon-throwing if I were you. Aunt Hallie loves you, but she wasn’t kidding about time-out.”

Hallie was still smiling over Nate’s comment as she grabbed her purse from the bedroom dresser. She stopped mid-stride when the telephone rang. Hallie picked up the phone, and decided to answer when she saw the caller ID.

“Greg, I have great news. Ahn just said her first word.”

“I have good news, too,” Greg said. “I was out of town Friday and Saturday and I just got around to checking my e-mail. The adoption agency e-mailed me Friday to say they have three couples interested in meeting with you. If it’s okay, I’ll schedule the appointments for Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of this week.”

“I can’t believe this,” Hallie said. “But yes. Of course, schedule the meetings. If the first meeting isn’t until Tuesday that will give me time to make arrangements with Roberta to babysit Ahn.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow to confirm everything,” Greg said. “And great news about Ahn, Hallie. I know how hard you’ve been working with her.”

Hallie thanked him, then hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed. But as she headed for the stairs reality set in like a fast-moving thunderstorm.

Nate wouldn’t be so receptive to Greg’s news. Especially not today.

Not after Ahn had finally said her first word.

Hallie briefly thought of not telling him until after they got back from lunch. Of letting Nate enjoy celebrating Ahn’s triumph without the stark reminder that the readoption was finally moving forward.

But she’d never pull it off.

Nate could read her like a book.

Hallie tried to put on a brave face as she walked toward the Mercedes where Nate was waiting. But she’d always sucked at brave faces.

“Greg just called.” She held out the keys. “He has three couples for us to interview this week.”

Nate took the keys without saying a word.

Hallie was okay with that.

There wasn’t anything to say—and they both knew it.