“Something I won’t do,” she whispered to herself, making a vow rather than a statement. She was here to get to know her son, but not at the cost of hurting something wonderful. If anything bad started to happen, she would disappear and never be heard from again.
She walked down the hall and found her way into a large, bright kitchen. There were half a dozen women standing around, talking and laughing.
They looked like the clients who came to her gyms. Suburban moms. Normal women with busy lives. Once again Crissy had the sense of them being a part of something and not being sure if she would ever belong. Then Abbey looked up from the cutting board where she’d been slicing strawberries and saw her.
“You made it,” she said, her voice bright with pleasure. “Everyone, this is Crissy. She’s a friend of Josh’s. Crissy, these are my friends. I’m going to go around the room and tell you everyone’s name, but we don’t expect you to remember them the first time out.”
“Oh, yes, we do,” a pretty redhead said with a laugh. “We’ll quiz you later. Failing will mean dire consequences.”
“Don’t frighten her the first day,” a blonde said. “Save that for her second visit. It builds anticipation.”
“Ignore them,” Abbey told her. “They’re actually very nice.”
Crissy sensed that. She tried to put names with faces, but got hopelessly lost. Part of the problem were the comments about her and Josh.
“I always knew that man was too fabulous to stay single long,” one of the women murmured, almost regretfully. “Someone had to catch him eventually.”
A by-product of the cover story, Crissy thought. By being Josh’s friend, people assumed they were dating. Not that she would mind going out with him sometime. Just not now—when there was so much other stuff going on. Still, she accepted the teasing and continued meeting Abbey’s friends.
When everyone had been introduced, Crissy was offered a choice of beverages, including white wine. She chose iced tea.
“Is the game starting?” Abbey asked, looking out the large bay window with a built-in cushioned bench. “Oh, my. Maybe some supervision is in order.”
Several of the women nodded. “Remember last time when Aaron sprained his ankle?” one of them asked. “I swear, the man still thinks he’s seventeen.”
Abbey’s friends drifted toward the back door, then out into the yard. When it was just the two of them, Abbey smiled at her. “I sort of asked everyone to leave us alone for a little while. So you could get comfortable. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine. This is a lot to take in.” Crissy drew in a breath and tried to focus. “You’re being really nice about all this. You could have refused to let me see Brandon.”
“Why?” Abbey asked, looking genuinely confused. “The more family, the better. It’s important for Brandon to know about his biological family. I’m thrilled you want to be here.”
If their situations were reversed, Crissy wasn’t so sure she would be as welcoming. “You’re an amazing woman.”
“Oh, please. I just want what’s best for Brandon. I think your plan to take it slow is a good one for everyone.” She continued slicing strawberries and then dumped them in a bowl. “I got in touch with Marty.”
It took Crissy a second to connect the name with the football player she’d dated in high school. The one who had been her first time and Brandon’s biological father.
“What did he say?” she asked, wondering if he was interested in Brandon as well. That would be fifteen kinds of weird.
“He’s a lawyer in Boston. He was very polite, but told me that part of his life was finished. He’d signed away all rights to his child so if I thought I could get money out of him, I was sorely mistaken.”
Crissy winced. “That can’t have been fun.”
Abbey shrugged. “Some people are like that—thinking everything is about money. He’s moved on. I’m okay with that.”
“He didn’t have such a big stick up his butt when we were dating in high school,” Crissy said. “At least I don’t remember seeing it.”
Abbey grinned. “I’m sure you would have noticed.”
Just then a pretty girl Crissy recognized from the pictures in the living room raced into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom. Can I have juice?”
“Sure.” Abbey crossed to the refrigerator. “Emma, this is Crissy. She’s a friend of Uncle Josh’s.”
The girl was about eight or nine, tall and skinny, with cartoon princesses on her athletic shoes.
“Hi,” Emma said shyly. “Uncle Josh is really nice.”
“Yes, he is,” Crissy said, appreciating how easy he’d made things for her.
Abbey handed her a juice drink and the girl skipped toward the back door.
“You have your hands full,” Crissy said. “I can’t imagine raising three kids.”
“I started with one, so that helped.” She began pulling bowls of salads out of the refrigerator. “We’ve been lucky. All the kids have been great. Hope, the little one, just turned two, but she’s still a sweetie. Right now she’s down for a nap, but when she gets up you’ll see what I mean. She’s a real people person. Brandon is more athletic. A typical boy. Emma is the quiet one. Her idea of a good time is an afternoon spent reading. I love how different they all are, how their personalities grow with them.”
The counter filled up quickly, so Crissy stepped in and took two large bowls from Abbey. She glanced at the contents.
“Did you make all this?”
Abbey shrugged. “Yes. I’m a bit obsessive about what my family eats. I go for organic and healthy whenever I can, which means I do a lot of cooking. We have a big garden on the side of the house. Brandon and Emma both help me with it. I make our bread and things like cookies and cakes. I’m a real homebody.” She glanced at Crissy. “That probably sounds really boring to a successful businesswoman like you.”
“Not at all,” Crissy told her, trying to remember if she’d ever turned on the oven in her kitchen. “I’m not the least bit domestic. I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’ve never baked anything. I can’t even knit and I’ve been taking classes for months.”
“But you’re good at other things,” Abbey said. “The whole work world. I think about getting a job sometimes. Money is tight, with us just living on Pete’s paycheck. It gets worse when we adopt.”
Crissy frowned. “I don’t understand. If you’ve had Hope for the past two years, why would she cost more when you adopt her?”
“The state pays us to be foster parents. When we adopt, that money goes away.” Abbey wrinkled her nose. “Some of my friends tell me to just keep them as foster kids. They’ll still be ours. But Pete and I want to be sure the babies know they belong to us forever and that no one can ever take them away. When you’re all alone, like Hope and Emma were, that’s important.”
“I had no idea,” Crissy murmured. The only things she knew about the foster care and adoption system were what she’d seen on television or the movies. Not many people would be willing to give up steady income the way Abbey and Pete had, just to make a child feel secure. Especially when money was tight.
They lived in a different world, she thought, wondering if she would be willing to make the same kind of sacrifices. She’d always thought of herself as a basically good person, but when faced with Abbey’s generous heart, she wasn’t as sure about her character.
She