Finding Perfect Page 4

  He hangs up after saying that.

  And then I’m left with this emptiness. My God, it’s so heavy.

  Being so close but still so fucking far away.

  I take a seat on the patio chair again. Part of me wants to run inside and swing Six around and tell her everything that just happened. Every word of that conversation. But the realistic side of me knows that the conversation I just had might mean absolutely nothing. I may never hear from him again. And if I don’t, that means no matter how much I reach out to whoever I can reach out to, this couple’s decision is final. And we’re legally bound to accept that.

  I bury my face in my hands because before this moment, I had hope that I could place in a lot of different areas. If one of my attempts didn’t work out, I knew I could try something else to find him.

  But now, all our hope has been placed on this one conversation. This one man.

  We’re in the middle of the biggest trial of our lives and we have a jury of one deciding our future.

  “Hey.”

  I wipe my eyes and look away from the front door Six just walked out of. I stand up, facing the opposite direction from her. I shove my phone in my pocket.

  “Daniel? Are you crying?”

  I run my hands under my eyes again “No. Allergies.” I turn and face her, plastering on the fakest smile I’ve ever given anyone.

  “You don’t have allergies.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No.” She steps closer to me and puts her hands on my chest. Her eyes are filled with concern. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? You never cry.”

  I take her face in my hands and I press my forehead to hers. I feel her arms snake around my waist. “Six, I tell you everything,” I whisper. “But I don’t want to talk about this. Not yet. Just give me time to process it, okay?”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “I’m fine. Perfectly fine. I just had a moment and I need you to trust me.” I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight. “I’m hungry. I just want to eat all the food and hang out with you and my friends and not think about anything else today. I’m fine. I promise.”

  She nods against my shoulder. “Okay. But I ruined the dressing, so pizza is on the way.”

  I laugh. “I figured as much.”

  Chapter Five

  It’s been eight hours since the man called. I’ve checked my phone every five minutes for an email or a missed call or a text.

  Nothing.

  He didn’t say when he was going to talk to his wife. He might be waiting for the perfect moment. That could be weeks or months. Or maybe he already talked to her and she decided she didn’t want communication.

  Maybe I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking down at my phone, waiting for them to contact me. I should have told him to at least tell me if they chose not to communicate with us. At least then I would have a definitive answer.

  “Your turn, Daniel,” Jack says to me.

  I rest my phone back on the table and roll the dice. I suggested we all play Monopoly when Jack and Karen got home earlier. I needed my mind to be on something else, but this game is so damn slow. Holder demands to be the banker because he doesn’t trust me and he counts everyone’s money three times.

  I move my thimble and land on Park Place. “I’ll buy it,” I say.

  “That’ll be three hundred and fifty dollars,” Holder says.

  I pay him in fives because for some reason, it’s all I have. I watch him count it. Then he counts it again. He starts to put it in the tray, but then he picks up the wad of fives and starts to count them for a third time.

  “Christ. Hurry the hell up,” I groan.

  “Language,” Jack says.

  “Sorry,” I mutter.

  Holder stops counting the money. He’s just staring at me from across the table.

  “You okay?” Six asks, concerned.

  “I’m fine,” I reassure her. “This game is just taking forever because Holder counts money like a blind mole.”

  “Bite me,” Holder says as he resumes counting my money for the third time.

  “Moles are actually blind, so saying blind mole is redundant,” Breckin says.

  I turn my head and glare at him. “Shut up, Powder Puff.”

  “Okay,” Holder snaps, grabbing the Park Place card back from me. “You’re done. Go home.”

  I snatch the card back from him. “No, we aren’t finished. We’re finishing this damn game.”

  “You’re making this not fun,” Sky says.

  “Seriously,” Six says. She squeezes my leg under the table, a little forcefully. “Let’s take a break. We can go to my house and make out. That might make you feel better.”

  That actually sounds way better and a lot more distracting than this stupid game. I toss my Park Place card on the center of the Monopoly board. “Good idea.”

  “Good riddance,” Holder mutters.

  I ignore them and walk toward the front door. Six apologizes on my behalf and that makes me feel like shit, but I don’t stop her. I’ll apologize to everyone tomorrow.

  I’ve just never felt this pent up before. That phone call left me wondering if this is how Six has felt this whole time. Maybe she’s felt this way since the day she put him up for adoption, and if so, I’m a complete asshole for never recognizing it or trying to do something about it before this week.

  We’ve walked around to the side of her house because she still uses her bedroom window every time she leaves Sky’s house. Right before she pushes it open, I grab her hand. She turns around and I slide my hand through her hair and pull her to me by her waist.

  “I’m sorry. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she says.

  “I’m sorry I’m in a bad mood.”

  “It’s okay. You were definitely a dick in there just now, but I know you. You’ll make it right.”

  “I will.”

  “I know,” she says.

  “I love you. No matter what.”

  “I know.” She pushes open the window and then says, “Come on, I’ll let you touch my boobs. Maybe that’ll get your mind off things.”

  “Both of them?”

  “Sure.” She climbs into the window and I follow her, wondering how I ended up with the only girl in the world who gets me.

  And, despite knowing exactly who I am, she somehow still loves me.

  When we’re standing next to her bed, I kiss her and it’s a good kiss. A distracting kiss. Right when I’m about to lower her to her bed, my phone vibrates in my pocket.

  My adrenaline begins pumping even harder. I immediately pull away from her and look at my incoming text. I practically deflate when I see it’s just a text from Holder.

  You okay, man? Need to talk?

  “It’s just Holder,” I say, as if Six were even wondering who texted me. I slide my phone back into my pocket.

  Six sits on the bed and pulls me on top of her, and even though I’ve been a complete asshole tonight, she lets me make out with her for fifteen minutes straight. She even lets me take off her bra. We haven’t had sex since the day in the maintenance closet, and that’s been a long damn time. But I like that we still have that to look forward to, and even though I can’t wait for it to happen, tonight is not the night I want it to happen. I’ve been a brat tonight. She deserves to have sex with me when I’m not acting like a brat.

  My phone vibrates again, but I ignore it this time. Holder can wait.

  “I think you got another text,” Six whispers.

  “I know. It can wait.”

  Six pushes against my chest. “I have to pee, anyway.”

  I roll onto my back and watch her walk into her bathroom. I pull my phone out of my pocket and see a notification from my Gmail.

  My heart twists into a knot and I hit the notification so hard, I’m surprised I don’t drop my phone.

  It’s an email from someone named Quinn Wells.

  I don’t know that name.

  I don’t know th
at name and that’s good. This could be good. I’m standing now. Pacing. The toilet is flushing. I read the subject line.

  Hi.

  That’s it. It just says Hi. I don’t even know how to interpret that, so I keep reading.

  Dear Six and Daniel,

  Graham told me about your conversation.

  It’s odd, because I’ve written countless letters to the biological mother of my child before. Letters I knew I would never send. But now that I know you’ll actually read this, I don’t even know how to start.

  “Oh my God, holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck yes.” I cover my mouth with my hand and stop reading because this isn’t something I should be reading alone. Six needs to read this. She walks out of the bathroom and sees me standing by her bed. I motion for her to hurry up and sit down.

  “What?”

  “Sit. Sit.” I pat the bed and sit next to her and she’s so confused, but I can’t find my words right now to explain what’s happening, so I just start rambling and hope she can decipher it all. “So, I made some phone calls the other day. And then this guy called me today and I didn’t know if we would hear anything back, so I didn’t say anything to you, but…”

  I shove my phone in her hands. “Look. Look at this. I haven’t read it yet, but…”

  Six grabs my phone, eyeing me with warranted concern. She breaks our stare and looks at the phone screen. “Dear Six and Daniel,” she says aloud. “Graham told me about your conversation. It’s odd, because I’ve written countless letters to the biological mother of my child before. Letters I knew…”

  Six stops reading and looks up at me. I can see in her eyes she has no idea what this is, but she’s hoping it’s what she thinks it is, but she’s too scared to think that.

  “It’s them,” I say, pointing down at my phone. “Quinn Wells. That’s her name. And her husband’s name must be Graham. Quinn and Graham. They have our baby.”

  Six drops the phone and covers her mouth and I’ve never seen eyes fill with tears as fast as hers just did. “Daniel?” she whispers. Her voice is cautious. She’s scared to believe this.

  I pick up the phone. “It’s them,” I say again.

  “How?” She’s shaking her head in complete disbelief. “I don’t understand. You talked to her husband? But...how?”

  She’s too scared to read the email. I probably should have explained it all earlier so this moment wouldn’t be this chaotic, but I didn’t know he’d talk to her today and that she’d actually reach out and holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening.

  “I called that lady you mentioned. Ava. Hannah said I was annoying and that I needed to be persistent and so I was and I literally begged her, Six. I didn’t know if it would work, but then he called today and said he was going to leave the decision up to his wife. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up because I didn’t know if she would ever reach out. But she did.”

  Six’s whole body is shaking from the sobs. She’s crying so hard now. Way too hard to read an email. I pull her to me. “It’s okay, babe. It’s okay. This is good.”

  “How do you know?” she says through her tears. “What if she’s emailing to tell us to leave them alone?”

  She’s terrified, but she doesn’t need to be. I don’t know how I know, because I haven’t read the email yet, but something about her reaching out tells me it’s good. Quinn’s husband seemed to really hear me out today and I just don’t believe they would email us back if it wasn’t good.

  “You want me to read it out loud?”

  Six nods, tucking herself against me. I wrap my arm around her as she presses her face against my chest like she doesn’t want to see the email. I pick up my phone and continue reading the letter out loud. I start from the very beginning again.

  Dear Six and Daniel,

  Graham told me about your conversation.

  It’s odd, because I’ve written countless letters to the biological mother of my child before. Letters I knew I would never send. But now that I know you’ll actually read this, I don’t even know how to start.

  First, I want to take this opportunity to introduce myself. My name is Quinn Wells and my husband’s name is Graham. We were both born and raised in Connecticut. Circumstances led us to Italy for a time, however, where we were fortunate enough to be given the gift of adopting your beautiful baby boy.

  I have to put my phone down and take a breath. Six lifts her face from my chest and looks up at me, alarmed by my pause. I smile at her and wipe a tear away. “She said he’s beautiful.”

  Six smiles.

  “I don’t think I can read this out loud,” I say. “Let’s read it together.”

  Both of us are complete wrecks now, so I reach over and grab some tissue from her bedside and hand some to her. She sits up straighter and I hold up the phone. We lean our heads together and continue reading the email.

  Our struggle with infertility has been a long one. It was very difficult for us to conceive, and when we finally did, it resulted in an unviable pregnancy and a hysterectomy. I don’t want to inundate you with all the painful details, but please know that because of the struggles Graham and I have been through, our marriage has turned out stronger and full of more love than I could ever imagine.

  And now, thanks to you, it is nothing short of perfect.

  Being the young expectant mother you were, I can’t possibly imagine how difficult it must have been for you to make the decision to put your child up for adoption. Because I am unable to comprehend the pain you must have faced, I sometimes wonder if you are unable to comprehend our absolute elation and gratefulness to you.

  My sister was the one who told us about you. You know her. Ava. She grew to love and respect you not only as one of her favorite students, but as a person.

  Forgive me if I have any of the details wrong, as not a lot of information was disclosed about your situation. We were told that you were an American student in Italy on a foreign exchange. Ava informed us that you were looking for a family to adopt your child. We didn’t want to get our hopes up because Graham and I have been let down many times in the past, but we wanted this more than anything.

  The night Ava came to discuss the opportunity with us, I immediately told her to stop speaking. I didn’t want to hear it. I was scared to death that it would be a situation that might not work out in the end. The thought of it not working out after getting my hopes up was more terrifying to me than never entertaining the idea of it.

  After Ava left that night, Graham spoke to me about my fears. I will never forget the words he said to me that made me change my mind and open up my heart to the possibility. He said, “If you weren’t completely terrified right now, I would be convinced that we aren’t the right parents for this child, because becoming a parent should be the most terrifying thing to ever happen to a person.”

  As soon as he said that, I knew that he was absolutely right. Becoming a mother isn’t about securing your own happiness. It’s about taking the chance of being terrified and even devastated for the sake of a child.

  That also applies to you, as his biological mother. I know it was a hard decision for you. But for whatever reason, you accepted a future of unknown fear in return for your child’s happiness. I will never be able to thank you enough for that.

  I’m still not sure why you chose us. Maybe it’s because Ava was able to vouch for us or maybe it’s because they told you our story. Or maybe it was chance. Whatever your reasons, I can assure you there are no two people in this world who could love your little boy more than Graham and I do.

  We were advised by the lawyer to make it a closed adoption for various reasons. The main one being that it was supposed to give us peace of mind knowing that, if you changed your mind and wanted to locate your child in the future, we would be protected.

  However, the fact that you were unable to reach out to us because of the closed nature of the adoption has brought me very little peace of mind. I have been full of fear. Not an i
rrational fear of losing our son to you, but a substantial fear that you might go a lifetime not knowing this beautiful human you brought into the world.

  Even though he’s not quite a year old yet, he is the most incredible child. Sometimes, when I hold him, I wonder so many things. I wonder where he got the adorable heart shape of his mouth. I wonder if the head full of brown hair came from you or his father. I wonder if his playful personality is a reflection of the people who created him. There are so many wonderful things about him and we want nothing more than to share those wonderful things with the people who blessed us with him.

  We decided to name him Matteo Aaron Wells. We chose the name Aaron because it means “miraculous” and we chose Matteo because it’s an Italian name meaning “gift.” And that is exactly what Matteo is to us. A miraculous gift.

  Graham and I made the decision to at least entertain the idea of reaching out to you a few weeks ago. We contacted our lawyer and requested your information, but I hadn’t reached out yet because I was hesitant. Even this morning, after Graham told me about the phone call, I was hesitant.

  But then something happened about an hour ago. Matteo was in his highchair and Graham was feeding him mashed potatoes when I walked into the room. As soon as Matteo saw me, he lifted his hands and said, “Mama.”

  It wasn’t his first word and it wasn’t even the first time he said Mama, but it was the first time he applied the term specifically to me. I didn’t know how hard it would hit me. How much it would mean to me. I immediately picked him up and pulled him to my chest and cried. Then Graham pulled me to his chest and we stood there and cried together for several minutes. It was a ridiculous moment and maybe we were both way too excited about it, but it wasn’t until that moment that it felt so real and permanent.

  We’re a family.

  He’s our son and we’re his parents and none of this would have been possible without you.

  As soon as Graham released me, I told him I needed to write this email. I want Matteo to know that not only does he have a mother and father in me and Graham, but he has an extra mother and father who care for him as deeply as we do. A biological mother who cares enough for him that she sacrificed her own happiness to see him have a life that she, for whatever reasons, felt she was unable to give him at the time of his birth.