She was sitting there swiping up and down the website with adoptable kids.
We'd considered both options. Private, which would give us another baby, or foster-to-adopt which would give a home to a kid already waiting in the system for a forever family.
In the end, we'd gone with the latter, knowing there would always be someone out there to take the babies. Besides, Jackson would like someone closer to his age to play with.
"We can always adopt more in the future," I reminded her, even though I had gone through the listings at least once a day since we had started the process nearly a year before.
"I mean, look at his smile," Reagan said, turning the iPad toward me. "And this one's too. Oh, and hers. How are you supposed to pick?"
That was a good question.
They all deserved homes, stability, love.
It was hard to look at a kid who just wanted a family and think, "Nah."
But we couldn't have them all.
"What one do you keep coming back to?" I asked, knowing there had to be one.
It took a long moment, but her breath sighed out of her. "Him," she said, turning the iPad toward me again. Quen looked to be about five or six with dark skin, black hair, and the warmest smile I think I'd ever seen on a kid his age.
"Okay. Him," I agreed, nodding.
"You didn't even read his blurb."
"No," I agreed. "But you did. Probably twenty times," I added, brow raising, daring her to tell me I was wrong.
"True," she agreed, her smile going soft as her eyes got a little glassy. "Quen."
"Quen," I agreed.
A couple months later, we welcomed him into the house.
"I dunno, babe," I said, smiling as Mal climbed into the kid's lap almost immediately. "It seems like the only person in this house that Mal doesn't like is you..."
"You be quiet, or I am going to drag Goat Devil out of the attic and hang him over the bed," she warned, eyes dancing.
She would, too.
So I shut right the hell up.Reagan - 11 years"Who is it?" Nixon asked when my phone rang, seeing my brows immediately knitting closer together as I looked at the name on the screen.
We were taking the kids to the park, Jackson and Quen currently standing over by the mammoth farm pigs, their t-shirts pulled up to cover their noses to cut the rancid smell of the slop they were laying in.
"It's Andrea," I said, shaking my head, confused.
"Andrea, Andrea? Our caseworker?" he asked.
We hadn't heard from her since Quen's adoption had been finalized. Well over a year ago.
"Yeah."
"Answer it," he demanded, making my finger swipe the screen, pulling my phone up to my ear.
"Hey Andrea," I started, my voice sounding a little choked. "What's up?"
"Reagan, how are you?"
"We're good. At the park with the boys. They are both disgusted and fascinated by the pigs here. Boys," I added, shaking my head even though she couldn't see me.
"Does Nixon happen to be with you?" she asked, and my belly tightened. Why, I didn't know. It wasn't like how it was between Quen coming to stay with us and the court date. She didn't have any sway over our family anymore. Quen was ours.
"Ah, um, yeah, he's right here," I said, sending Nixon a head shake when he held up a questioning hand.
"Can you put me on speaker?" she asked.
Nervous, I missed the button twice before I finally accomplished the task. "Okay, you have us both."
"Hey Nixon," Andrea greeted as my belly twisted tighter.
"Hey, Andrea. What are you calling us about?" he asked. And, well, bless my husband's bluntness. He could always be counted on to cut through the useless bullshit.
"Well, I have something I want to run by you," she started.
"We're listening," Nixon agreed, urging her on.
"Well, we have both sad, and good news."
"Oh?" I asked, my throat feeling tight.
"About a year ago, Quen's mom had a second child. A girl. Everything seemed fine this time around. We thought she would get to stay with her birth family. But the situation has changed," she said, being diplomatic, not giving too much away. "And we have Quen's little sister. She's... she's not going to be able to go back to her mom. And you know we always like to try to keep biological siblings together. I know they have never met. Quen doesn't even know she exists. But it is blood. And, well, I was just wondering if you two would have any interest in taking her in? I know the last time we spoke that you said you would be open to adopting again once Quen settled in."
We were.
We'd always talked about more.
It just was always a background thought, wedged behind our current kids, the house, the extended family, work.
We hadn't gotten around to discussing it in depth recently.
But we were both still open to it.