Page 68 of The Facilitator: Part 3
What if she just simply didn’t like us?
A buzz at the gates made us startle, even though we were expecting it. Lauren rushed to the front door and pressed for the gates to open. She then pulled the door wide and we stood, waiting like sentries.
“Relax,” I whispered from the side of my mouth while maintaining a smile.
“I’m trying,” she grounded back.
“Mr. and Mrs. Miller?”
“Yes, please, come on in,” Lauren said to the brunette who had climbed from her red car.
“Wow, what a gorgeous house you have,” she said, standing still and looking up. She smiled broadly. “Going to be a lucky child that gets to live here.”
Immediately, I relaxed, and from the sigh, so did Lauren. We both smiled at each other and then back at Gloria.
“Can I get you a tea?” I asked.
She squinted at me. “Can he make tea?” she asked Lauren, then turned to me. “No offense, my son-in-law is American and makes the most god-awful tea.” Her laughter echoed around the hall.
“I’ll make the tea,” Lauren said, and laughed with her.
I immediately liked her. I wasn’t sure whether she was going to be tough, scrutinize us to the point of exposing all our flaws and failings, but she seemedfriendly. If she was going to flay us, it was going to be done with a smile, I guessed.
We sat and Gloria pulled a file from her bag. She placed her hands on it. “Have you researched the process?” she asked.
“A little,” I replied.
“We tried IVF but it just didn’t work. We know we’d love to be parents and thought adoption was the route for us. We’ve spent hours on the internet,” Lauren added, and there was an earnest tone to her voice.
“I’m sorry to hear that. A few of our families made the decision in the same circumstances,” she said, smiling again at us both.
She opened the file and for the next half hour, went through the adoption process. We had some forms to fill out, of course, but the purpose of the meeting was to decide if adoption was for us. We had no doubt, and after the half hour, neither did Gloria.
“Next is stage one,” she said. “Unless there is any reason we can’t accept your application.”
“Can you give us some examples of why that would happen?” I asked, my stomach had knotted and I knew by the way she gripped my hand, so had Lauren’s.
“If I’d have walked in here and there was drug paraphernalia, then that might influence the decision,” she chuckled. “Honestly, I can’t see any reason, not even your nationality,” she said, confirming what she’d saidearlier to me. “Give me a week and then we’ll arrange for your social worker to call to make another appointment.”
We walked her to the door and waited until she was out of sight before we dissected.
“What did you think?” Lauren asked, as she pulled a hair band from her ponytail.
“I think it went well. Didn’t you?”
“I think so. Who knows?”
We walked back to the kitchen and sat, flicking through the pamphlets we’d been left. I imagined those were the same ones we’d been offered after my initial phone call.
Both Lauren and I were on tenterhooks for five full days. We sniped at each other unnecessarily, we laughed and hugged not understanding why the pressure of waiting was grating on us so much, considering we both dealt with higher pressure in our work. It was when Lauren rushed into my office that we finally settled down.
“I’ve had a call,” she said, waving her cell in her hand as soon as she left the elevator.
“Well, that’s nice, dear,” Mary said, rolling her eyes.
“No, I’ve hadthecall,” Lauren replied and I stood from my desk.
“Thecall?” Mary and I both said at the same time.Mary frowned at me, turned her nose up with disgust that I could have thought to say the same as her.
