Page 6 of The Uncomplicated Café
With each passing second, her apprehension mounted. What if Carla didn’t have good news? What if the court denied their adoption request? Or deemed the timing too soon?
Her chest squeezed. She loved being Max’s foster mom, and in her eyes—and heart—the foster status didn’t make him any less her son. And yet, she couldn’t deny the benefits of adoption. Most notably, the permanency. She’d almost lost Max before, and it had nearly broken her. She couldn’t risk losing him again. Not when he claimed such a critical place in her heart.
Abby placed the steaming teapot on the sterling silver tray, her fingers trembling. She knew she shouldn’t place all her hopes on an ideal scenario. Max had a tricky case. Even if Carla tried her best, there were extenuating circumstances outside their control.Hurdles, Carla had called them. She’d been careful not to make any promises.
The doorbell chimed.
Abby jumped, spilling some of the cream on the counter. Jittery, she quickly mopped up the mess.
Logan removed the damp dish towel from her hand and pulled her into his arms.
She melted against his chest, basking in the comfort of his embrace.
“No matter what Carla tells us today, it’ll be okay,” he murmured, planting a reassuring kiss on top of her head. “We’re a family. And that will never change.”
She buried her face in his soft T-shirt, inhaling his distinct scent of warm earth from tending the garden and the tangy peppermint of his pain relief balm.
Of course, he was right. So why wouldn’t her hands stop shaking?
“I’ll bring the snacks to the sitting room, if you can get the door,” she said with the steadiest voice she could muster.
She gripped the cool silver handles with clammy palms, repeating a silent prayer.Dear God, please let her have good news.
Chapter Four
LOGAN
Logan Mathews claspedAbby’s hand on the couch cushion between them, holding his breath as Carla rooted through her beat-up briefcase.
“As you know,” Carla said, retrieving an overstuffed file, “Max’s case is unusual.”
“That’s an understatement.” Logan tried to sound lighthearted, while internally his pulse thundered as fiercely as the engine of an F-16.
Abby must have sensed his nervous energy through her fingertips because she tightened her grip.
“True,” Carla conceded with a kind smile. “Between his mother’s death as an infant, his father’s disappearance last year, and the absence of extended family, his situation is one of my most challenging.”
“Not to mention all the other garbage the poor kid’s been through.” The muscles in Logan’s jaw still tensed whenever Max’s traumatic past sprang to mind. The foster family who used him as manual labor and pocketed all the money from the state without spending a single dime on Max’s well-being, all while they ran an illicit operation selling pilfered Social Security and credit card numbers. Then, more recently, the woman whoposed as Max’s long-lost relative and nearly abducted him, all because Max had unwittingly taken a notebook filled with stolen credit card numbers. The kid had been through the ringer, and Logan would do whatever it took to give him a better life.
“Exactly,” Carla agreed, flipping open the file on her lap. “Max has experienced enough trauma, which is why we need to proceed carefully.”
Uh-oh.Logan stiffened.Proceed carefullydidn’t sound good. Was Carla going to turn down their adoption request? At the possibility, a heavy weight pressed against his chest, matching the suffocating force of pulling high Gs. He needed to get off the couch, to walk around and shake it off, but he couldn’t move.
Abby laced her fingers through his, pressing their palms together as if she could transfer her superhuman strength via physical touch.
He met her gaze, amazed by the hopeful resiliency reflected in her hazel eyes, tempering his own fear and uncertainty. Not for the first time, he marveled at the unfathomable blessing that a woman like Abby would choose him.
Whatever bad news Carla brought to the table, they would get through it together. Logan squeezed Abby’s hand in solidarity.
“I’ve been researching your request, and here’s where we hit a few snags.” Carla glanced between them, her countenance soft and sympathetic. “If we were dealing with a general paternal abandonment case, Max would likely be eligible for adoption after six months, as long as his father didn’t provide any financial support or communication during that time. However, Max’s situation isn’t that simple. Technically, his father is considered a missing person, and in most missing person cases, you need to wait five years before they can be declared deceased, per California law.”
“Five years?” Abby whispered, the disappointment in her voice mirroring his own.
“But everyone knows Sam Bailey’s fishing boat went down in a storm,” Logan pointed out, battling his mounting desperation. He’d wait five years to adopt Max if he had no other choice, but he wasn’t ready to give up on a quicker solution just yet.
“That may be true. But since neither a boat nor a body has been recovered, it’s still a missing person case.” Carla’s round, pleasant features strained with regret. Logan knew the compassionate social worker didn’t like the situation any more than they did. “However,” she added with the slow, cautious inflection of someone choosing their words carefully. “I could pressure the court to evaluate the extenuating circumstances. There is precedence for what’s called an expedited presumption of death based on the nature of the person’s disappearance and their likelihood of survival. If the outcome is in our favor, it’s possible adoption proceedings could begin much sooner. Would you like me to pursue this course of action?”
“Yes, of course,” Abby blurted, breathless with even the slightest chance of moving things along. She fixed Logan with her eager gaze, waiting for him to voice his agreement.
