Opening the folder on her desk, Trina glanced over the pages as if she were familiar with them. “I’ve read through everything including the home-study report.” Leaning back in her chair, she focused her hazel eyes on Carrie. “You’ve been through a lot.”
Panicking, Carrie felt her mouth go dry. Could this woman somehow know…?
Trina went on, “You had the procedure to try to unblock your tubes, two in vitro attempts, and I suspect the usual temperature taking and ovulation charts before all this began.”
Carrie nodded.
“You must want a child very much.”
“I—we do.”
Although Trina’s gaze was kindly, she obviously had a mission today as she continued. “As the oldest of four sisters, you did quite a bit of mothering. Some women who have that responsibility thrust on them seem to run in the other direction. But the psychologist’s evaluation suggests that although you haven’t had much practice since then, you’re a nurturing woman who can’t wait to take care of someone again.”
“That’s true,” Carrie agreed honestly.
“She also noted that you haven’t modeled in three years. It seems you’ve filled your time with working for charities, volunteering at the hospital in the children’s ward and being available whenever your husband needs you.”
Now Brian shot Carrie a curious look. They’d interviewed with the psychologist separately as well as together. This had come up during her one-on-one interview.
“Why do you need to be available for your husband?” Trina asked.
Feeling Brian shift in his seat, Carrie knew his gaze was on her. She looked directly at Trina. “Brian has a lot of social contact with clients. We often give cocktail parties and dinners, and sometimes I go out of town with him.”
“Carrie has always been an asset,” Brian interjected. “She’s good at public relations and is easy to talk to.” His tone was even, but there was an edge to it, and Carrie knew he wondered where this was going.
“I see,” Trina mused. “I guess I’m concerned how you’ll feel about that when a child is demanding her attention and she can’t fly out of town, or maybe even hostess a dinner.”
The statement was akin to a grumble of thunder when the sky was still fair.
Finally Brian replied, “Dinners and parties are often held when a child would be asleep.”
“But children don’t always stay asleep, and they can be as unpredictable as the weather. I suppose I’m just wondering how you’ll cope with that.”
Carrie could practically see Brian’s shoulders tense as he replied, “Miss Bentley, I don’t know exactly how we’ll deal with that, but we will deal with it. I want a child as much as Carrie does. No couple knows for certain how their lives will be impacted by a baby. I can assure you a child of ours will always have the attention and care it needs.”
“When we began evaluating you as future parents, I think you had some doubts about adopting, didn’t you, Mr. Summers?”
This woman was obviously leaving no stone unturned. Carrie’s heart sped up.
“Yes, I did,” Brian answered honestly. “Family has always been important to me, and I always imagined I’d have three or four kids.”
“You grew up with your father.”
Carrie held her breath, waiting for Brian’s reaction. His childhood with Dutch Summers had been a difficult one. Dutch hadn’t held one job any length of time or brought home a paycheck often. Usually he gambled it away.
“Yes.” Brian’s quick answer said he didn’t want to go into all of this again.
But Trina didn’t take the hint. “Your mother abandoned you and your father when you were seven. Miss Williams’s report states your mother contacted you shortly after you were married but you have no contact with her now.”
“That’s right.”
“There are notes here that the noncontact is your choice. Can you tell me why?”
“I told Stacy why,” he responded gruffly.
“I know these questions seem prying, Mr. Summers, but extended family is important to children, too—grandmothers, grandfathers, cousins, uncles, aunts. Your wife’s family is still very much connected, but your father has passed on and your mother’s not in your life. Do you see that changing?”
“I don’t see it changing, at least not right now. My mother left and didn’t call or write for twenty-two years. If we make contact and try to start over, she could drop out of my life and a child’s again. As you said, my wife is still close to her family. We would have an extended family.”
Addressing Carrie, the caseworker asked, “How do you feel about your husband’s lack of a relationship with his mother?”
Carrie was still close to her family, but her own relationship with her mom and dad was complicated, more so than even Brian realized. “I trust Brian’s judgment,” she said simply.
When Brian leaned forward, Carrie could feel the intensity in him. “I was almost late to this meeting because I made a stop at the hospital nursery to have a look at the babies. I’ve always dreamed of having a family because mine wasn’t ideal. I never expected that would mean adopting a child. But as I stood there looking at the infants and their little hands, their big eyes, some of them crying, I knew I wanted a child with Carrie. If that means adoption, that’s what we’ll do.”
Turning to his wife, he took her hand in his. “We’ll have the family we’ve always wanted.”
The tenderness in Brian’s voice gave Carrie more hope than she’d had in months. For so long, she’d felt she was losing him. She couldn’t tell Brian what had caused her infertility problems. If she did, he’d walk away…as Foster had. However, if they adopted, her secret would be safe and their marriage could become strong again.
Tears pricked in her eyes and Brian saw them. He squeezed her hand.
Their interview went smoothly after that. After they signed more papers, Trina assured them they’d be in the system by noon. If a birth mother chose them, she’d notify them immediately.
When Carrie emerged into the lobby again with Brian, her heart felt lighter than it had in years. She knew babies didn’t “fix” marriages, yet their only problem had been her inability to bear children. This morning she’d almost felt close to her husband again, and that was what a baby was going to do for them—bring them even closer.
They stopped by the coatrack in the reception area and Carrie took her off-white winter coat from the wooden hanger. By her side, Brian lifted it from her hands and held it. When their gazes collided, she acknowledged again the one element that had drawn them together since the night they’d met—their attraction to each other. As she slipped one arm into the sleeve, Brian dipped his head and his lips were very close to her temple. His aftershave smelled of pine and woods, and a small tremble shimmered through her. She thought about tonight, holding each other, giving in to passion that never diminished between them no matter what else was happening.
As he helped her with her other sleeve, she asked hopefully, “Will you be home for dinner?”
Before Brian could answer, a lean man approached them. Everett Baker was an accountant for Children’s Connection. Carrie had seen him now and then in the halls of the adoption agency, which was an annex to Portland General. A nurse who worked in the emergency room, Nancy Allen, often visited the children in pediatrics when Carrie volunteered there, and they’d become friends. Nancy and Everett seemed to have