The Child Who Changed Them (Parent Portal 5)

Point taken. She was already way ahead of him. Nursery colors and names firmly decided. But... “That’s your nursery. Will I have one? More to the point, will I have need of one in my own home? And my parents’ names are Wilma and Fred. What if I’d like my child to be named after them?”

She glanced his way as she settled into a lane on the highway and slipped on cruise control. An option on his car that had never been used. “Your parents’ names are Fred and Wilma? Like the Flintstones?”

Her grin made him want to nod, just to see her keep smiling. “No, they’re Anna and James, but my point is—”

“I get your point and you’re right,” she said, her expression growing serious. “And I’m sorry I didn’t think enough about things from your point of view...exactly why I do not trust myself in a relationship.”

“I wasn’t criticizing, Elaina. I haven’t been spending a lot of time in your point of view, either. How could we expect to when we were both hit with shocking news? I’m just saying...for me...it’s time to start making the bigger decisions.”

She nodded. Changed lanes. And said, “I’m afraid to have the conversation.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know the answers.”

“Maybe we find them together.”

Another quick glance in his direction showed him her raised brows. He wasn’t sure what they signified.

“Isn’t that what co-parenting means? Doing it together?”

“What happens if you want Wilma and I want Marisol?”

“I actually like Marisol, by the way. But in answer to your question, I guess that’s where the hard work comes in. We have to be open to hearing each other’s opinions, and then weighing them both for the best of the child. I’m sure there’ll be times when either side could be right, or neither answer is better or worse, and then we’ll have to learn to compromise. And maybe have an argument or two. Get a bit miffed at each other. But because we both love the baby so much, we’ll find a way to work it out on a case-by-case basis.”

She didn’t quite smile, but he was getting used to seeing the slight upward tilt of her lips, the relaxing of her features. And liking it.

“Okay, so if you’re okay with Marisol if it’s a girl, which is my choice, then maybe you get to choose the name if it’s a boy. And since we don’t know either way, the agreement is fair.”

Her willingness to give him his fair say made him feel good. And he had no ideas for boys’ names. Not Gregory. He didn’t want a namesake, to give the kid any idea that he had to follow in his footsteps. But...

“Can I have some time to think about it?”

“Of course.” Traffic was light. He could play with names while they drove. Instead, he instinctively pressed his foot to the floor as red taillights shone in succession in front of them, signaling a massive slowdown. But she had the brake pedal, not him.

Pumped it well. Slowed the car without any jerks, or extra wear on the brakes.

As he sat there, feeling a bit useless, it occurred to him that she’d just given him an example of shared parenting. They’d made a decision to discuss their child’s future and to respect each other’s opinions.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Wasn’t always going to look as he envisioned it.

But he was determined to make it work.

* * *

Elaina knew the second she saw Beldon that he was the one. Two years old. A poodle mix with unusual black-and-white coloring. And much bigger than the ten or twelve pounds she wanted. The dog was easily thirty pounds. He was house-trained. Had been in a home with five kids since his birth—and then had been left behind when the family moved.

What got her, though, was the way, when she and Greg approached his temporary, makeshift cage, he sat down, looked up at her, held her gaze and stuck his paw through the fencing.

“He’s obviously the one,” Greg said before she could even find a voice. So she nodded. And while she knelt down to speak to the dog, asking him how he was and if he wanted to come home with her, Greg was already off finding the volunteer who could get them through the adoption process. She’d already filled out an online application, had been approved. Had all the necessities at home. There was still paperwork to do.

And money to pay.

Different dogs, di

fferent adoption fees. She had no idea how much Beldon cost. And didn’t care. She’d planned to donate extra anyway. Because of all of the animals she couldn’t take home with her.

“It’s going to be an hour or so before we can take him,” Greg said, rejoining her. He reached out a hand to the dog, and Beldon licked his palm. Just once. A greeting, not a meal. “They suggested we get some lunch,” he said. “They’ll be taking Beldon back, getting him ready to go...”