First Sight (25 page)

“I can think of a few things you might do to keep you busy for the next few years,” David said with a cautious smile. He loved the look of love and joy in her eyes, but he was also worried about her. “What if his mother doesn’t give him up?” He didn’t want her heartbroken if something went wrong and his mother got out of prison and took him back. Things like that happened, and she had already thrown her heart over the wall for this child. It was written all over her, Timmie wore her heart on her sleeve. She had already lost one child, he didn’t want her to go through the heartbreak of losing another one, even if for different reasons. She gave her heart so totally when she did, and he could see that she already had in just two days. There was a bond between her and the boy that had formed the moment she laid eyes on him and that was getting stronger by the hour. She could hardly wait to take him home with her, and had already decided on her way to work what room to put him in when he came to visit, and then came home for good. It was a guest bedroom she used as an office, right next to hers. “I’m very happy for you,” David said warmly, “if this is what you want.” In his mind, it was better than some guy who would take advantage of her for a while and then disappear out of her life, as all the others had. At least this would change someone else’s life for the better, as well as hers. It was an incredible way for her to give back all the good things that had happened to her. And so typical of Timmie to do something like this, without reservation, or even fear. She had no doubt whatsoever about what she was doing. Blake was one lucky little boy, as far as David was concerned.

“I hope it turns out all right,” Jade said, looking worried. She was always the devil’s advocate, and the voice of doom and fear. But it was hard to deny the look of love and excitement on Timmie’s face.

Timmie went to visit him again that night. She fed him from the dinner table again, and then sat in the dining room with him afterward for a long time, after everyone else left. While he looked at her anxiously, sitting in the corner again, she told him that she had grown up in a place like this, and that she wanted to be his friend. She didn’t dare tell him she wanted to be his mom. That would have been frightening to him. No matter how bad his own mother was, she was familiar to him, and he had only known Timmie for a few days. He ran past her finally, and up to his room. She went upstairs, stood in the doorway, and blew him a kiss before she left. That time, he still said nothing, but smiled shyly at her, and then turned away. She was getting there, slowly but surely.

She had too much to do at the office on Tuesday to get to St. Cecilia’s again. They were busy preparing for the February ready to wear shows, and they only had a few weeks left. She went back to see him on Wednesday night, and this time, he came out from under the table at the end of the meal and stood beside her chair. She didn’t say anything, and didn’t try to touch him. She didn’t want to frighten him, but there were tears running down her cheeks as she smiled at Sister Anne, and she choked on a sob, when for the merest instant, she felt his tiny fingers like butterflies on her arm, and then he ran away. Sister Anne nodded her approval, and afterward Blake followed Timmie upstairs. And when she said goodbye to him from the doorway this time, his eyes bored into hers and he waved.

By Thursday, he owned her heart as though he had been in her life for years. It was not unlike a newborn who arrived, and suddenly you could no longer imagine what your life had been like without him. All of Timmie’s plans in her head were suddenly made around Blake. She was worried about her upcoming trip, and how he would feel when she disappeared. She was becoming a daily presence in his life, and she spent several hours with him on Friday afternoon, before leaving for the beach. She was reading a story to him when Sister Anne walked into the room, and motioned for Timmie to come with her. Timmie went to find her in her office as soon as she finished reading the book to Blake. She promised to come back to him in a few minutes.

“Is everything okay?” Timmie asked, looking worried. She didn’t like the look on the older nun’s face.

“Probably,” she said cryptically. “I had a call from Social Services a few minutes ago. Blake’s grandparents contacted them. Apparently, they’ve been looking for him for weeks. They’re flying in from Chicago this weekend. They’ve requested a hearing Monday afternoon.” It was all she knew. But to Timmie, it did not sound good.

“What kind of hearing?” She felt panic run up and down her spine.

“Temporary custody, and permission to take him out of the state. They live in a suburb of Chicago, and apparently they’ve been trying to get custody of him for years. Every time they tried, their daughter would clean up for a few weeks, and the judge wouldn’t take Blake away from her. They’re pretty adamant about kids staying with their natural parents, even in circumstances that horrify the rest of us. You know how that is. I don’t know how the judge will feel now about letting him out of the state. But unquestionably, his mother will be gone for a long time. I told his social worker about you.” It had all happened so quickly that Timmie hadn’t done anything official about it yet. She thought she had plenty of time, and now there was a hearing on Monday afternoon, against people she didn’t know, but who were blood relations of Blake’s.

“Can I go to the hearing too?”

“I thought that’s what you’d want, so I asked the social worker about it, and she said it would be okay. I didn’t expect there to be a custody battle over him. This is pretty unusual stuff for one of our kids.” Usually no one wanted them, now there were going to be two families, or two camps, fighting for him. And Timmie didn’t intend to lose.

“Can I bring an attorney?”

“Maybe you should. I’m not sure the judge will let you speak. The hearing is really about them, and the petition they’re going to make. But I told the social worker who you are, and that you’re serious about him. I’m afraid that I had to explain that you’re the force behind St. Cecilia’s. I wanted to give it all the weight I could,” she said apologetically, and Timmie looked relieved.

“I’m glad you did.” She was a single woman after all, and not as young as most foster and adoptive parents, although she certainly had the means to provide him a wonderful life. “Do you know anything about the grandparents?” Timmie asked, looking terrified. She felt as though someone were trying to take away her own child. He had become that in her mind in the past week.

“He’s a doctor in a suburb of Chicago, she’s a housewife. They have three other kids, all in college, I think a boy, and a set of twin girls. He’s forty-six, and she’s forty-two. They sound like solid citizens, and Blake’s mother is the black sheep. That’s all I know. The social worker said all three of their other kids go to Ivy League schools. I think one of them is at Harvard, and the twins are at Stanford and Yale.”

“Smart kids,” Timmie said, even more terrified than she had been before she knew.

“It could be a tough fight,” Sister Anne said softly, wishing she could spare her this. But they all had to hope for the best outcome for Blake, whatever that might be. His grandparents didn’t sound like easy people to dismiss. She was worried for Timmie’s sake.

The weekend passed for her like a blur. She spent Sunday afternoon and evening with Blake. He never made it into the chair at dinner, but he poked his head out several times from under the table and smiled at her. She fed him ravioli and meatballs from a bowl with a spoon, and he kept popping up for more. She stayed with him until he went to bed that night, and speaking softly to him, she tucked him in, as Sister Anne drifted by, and watched them for a minute. She looked worried. Not only had Timmie bonded tightly with the child, but he was obviously becoming attached to her. If his grandparents won their petition, it would traumatize him again. Sister Anne hoped they wouldn’t, she felt certain Timmie would be a wonderful mother to him. She was seeing a side of her she had never before seen to that degree. Timmie already loved Blake, almost as much as if he had been her own. It worried her for her friend. It was going to come as a terrible blow to her if Blake’s grandparents took him away. She knew Timmie had already lost a son. This was different, but if it didn’t go well at the hearing on Monday afternoon, it was going to be very hard, for both Timmie and Blake. All they could do now was pray.

Timmie couldn’t sleep as she thought of it on Sunday night. She kept running it through her head again and again, worrying about what would happen in court the next day. In the end, she stayed home from work on Monday, and didn’t go to see him that day. She somehow knew she couldn’t, until she saw how things turned out. She was already so attached to him, she couldn’t imagine losing him now, but knew she could. She tried not to think about it as she dressed for court in a black suit and high heels. She pulled her red hair straight back in a ponytail down her back. The hearing was set for two. She had called her lawyer over the weekend, and explained the circumstances. There was not much they could do. It was not so much a case of Timmie versus the grandparents. It was a question of whether or not the judge would grant their petition for custody of him, even temporarily. If not, the way was open for Timmie. But their rights had to be evaluated first, and their suitability. After that, Timmie was free to pursue fostering Blake. But it didn’t hurt to have the judge know that Timmie was waiting in the wings, and cared enough to be there.

She met her attorney on the courthouse steps at a quarter to two, and they quietly took their place in the courtroom. Blake’s grandparents were already there, they looked like nice, wholesome, solid, respectable people from the Midwest. His grandmother was wearing a skirt and blouse, which Timmie realized was from one of her lines, and his grandfather looked like a doctor in a blazer, tie, and slacks, with well-polished shoes. They both looked neat and trim, and younger than they were. Timmie realized as she thought about it that they were younger than she was, and they were married. In some ways, they were better candidates than she, and they were blood relations. All she could offer him was love, herself, and a very good life that might have been beyond their means. But they looked as though they were doing well too.

The judge walked in promptly at two, and Blake’s file was on his desk. He had looked at it in chambers that morning, and had read the grandparents’ petition and request. Everything was in order, and there were a slew of references and testimonials from solid people in their community. There was little to object to about them. The social worker had also sent him a letter describing the circumstances around Timmie’s interest in the child as well, and who she was. He had been duly impressed, particularly to learn about her association with St. Cecilia’s, which he knew well, and where he had sent many children over the past few years. He thought her interest in it admirable, and in this child as well.

The judge spoke to both grandparents at some length. Blake’s grandmother cried when she talked about her daughter’s ongoing problems with drugs and the law since her early teens. It was a nightmare to listen to. In contrast, all her other children were stars and doing extremely well. He spoke to the grandfather after that, and between them briefly acknowledged Timmie’s presence in the room. He spoke to her with a warm smile, which she returned, although there was a knot in her stomach the size of her head, and her palms were soaking wet. She thanked the judge for his kind words, when he praised St. Cecilia’s and her for her involvement with it. He clearly had a great deal of respect for what they did. And then he turned his attention to Blake’s grandfather, who was impressive on the stand. He was a quiet, well-spoken, sensible, obviously trustworthy man, an upstanding citizen in every way, and both were deeply committed to their family, community, and church. There was absolutely nothing wrong with them, or with Timmie either. The problem was that she wasn’t in the running, and there was no doubt in the judge’s mind where the boy belonged as the hearing came to an end. He needed to be back with his own family, where he could grow up with his grandparents and aunts and uncle, and they could nurse him back to physical and psychological health.

The judge looked at Timmie again briefly at the end of it, and said he was sure that Timmie would understand. Although her interest in the boy was admirable and deeply touching, he was sure that she too would want him returned to the family in which he belonged, and who were so anxious to make a home for him, the home he had never had. Timmie nodded, as tears ran down her cheeks. She felt as though she’d been shot. It was obviously the right thing, but it hurt so incredibly much. She tried to be gracious to the grandparents when the hearing was over, and Blake’s grandmother gave her a hug as tears flowed down her cheeks too. Everyone was crying, the grandfather, Timmie’s lawyer, and the judge’s eyes looked damp as well. He had been particularly moved to hear the condition Blake was in, and that he didn’t speak. He hoped that with the right care, and love from his family, Blake would talk sometime soon. The boy had been traumatized beyond belief by his life with his mother.

They all walked out of the courtroom together, with the social worker, and they proceeded to St. Cecilia’s in three separate cars. Timmie’s lawyer left her at the courthouse, and told her how sorry he was. He felt terrible for her, but there was nothing he could do. His hands were tied, and he too thought the child probably belonged with his grandparents, although he could see what a blow it was for Timmie. She had fallen utterly and totally in love with the child in the short time she’d known him. The floodgates of her heart had opened and let him in. Now she had to face the agony of letting him go. She was going to St. Cecilia’s with them to say goodbye. The judge had signed the order in the courtroom, and his grandparents were flying him to Chicago with them that night. Their mission had been accomplished. A permanent order for custody would be confirmed to them in six months. And it was unlikely Timmie would ever see him again. She didn’t intend to follow him into his new life, she knew it would be too confusing for him. She was just a loving person who had been there for him for a few days, before he went off to his life with them. But she wanted to see him one last time.