Page 61 of Freedom's Kiss
“You know how it is.”
She pursued her lips. “I do, and I don’t like it.”
“So you won’t help me?”
“Of course I’ll help you.” She patted his hand. “Have you got a four-leaf clover or a lucky rabbit’s foot in your pocket?”
“How about prayer?”
“You’re going to need it.”
“I thought they were passing legislation that made it easier for adoptees to obtain their original birth certificates and not just the amended ones created at the time of their adoption.”
Darlene sighed. “Unfortunately for your friend, Florida isn’t one of those states yet, although the senator is pushing for it.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. What’s the big deal?”
“Well, critics say that lawmakers need to take into consideration the privacy of the birth parents. They’re afraid that if adoptees can easily access records, women will opt to terminate their pregnancies instead of giving adoption real consideration.”
Adam sighed. “So my friend would need an order from a judge to be able to access her original birth certificate from the vital records office?”
Darlene nodded sympathetically. “I’m afraid so.” Her eyes brightened. “Unless…” She moved to her computer and began clicking away at the keys. She swiveled her monitor so it faced Adam. “It’s a long shot, but there is a registry, the Florida Adoption Reunion Registry, whose sole purpose is to reunite birth parents and siblings with adoptees. If your friend’s parents or one of her siblings are also trying to find her, they may have registered to the database.”
Worth a shot. They could explore this route while they filed the paperwork to get a judge’s order for Olivia’s birth certificate. Adam leaned over the counter and planted a kiss on the elderly woman’s cheek. “Thanks, Darlene.”
“Anytime. And I hope to see you in these halls on a regular basis soon. I’m praying for it.”
He waved and turned without a response. What could he say? That he wasn’t even sure an act of God could convince him to return to law? It sounded blasphemous, or at least irreverent. Besides, despite Michael’s declaration that Adam was called to this work, there were plenty of scriptural references to argue that God blessed the path a person chose, not chose the path itself. Adam could just as surely be following God’s plan for his life cooking up comfort food in his truck than arguing cases for guilty individuals.
If only he didn’t feel so hollow inside about the prospects of spending the rest of his life standing in front of a sweltering cooktop. The thing that used to relax him after a hard day in court was fast losing its appeal. He blamed Hudson and Mrs. Haywood. He’d been content, excited even at the ideas Olivia pitched him, but ever since he’d sat down and listened to Curtis Haywood’s story from his wife, it all seemed pointless. The drive that had energized him to plead for people when the rest of the world turned their backs on them had zinged through his limbs.
But that wasn’t his place anymore. It wasn’t who he was anymore.
He sighed as he passed solid oak doors leading to a judge’s chamber. How was it possible to be in a place and part of you wanted to flee while the other part yearned to stay? The doors opened, emitting a tall man in a gray suit, his head down as he typed out a furious message on his phone.
Bill Mabrey. Not the most ethical man, but he won cases. His polished shoes ate up the floor, and Adam watched his retreating back a second before calling out. “Hey, Mabrey. Wait up.”
The attorney stopped, his attention still glued to his phone. When Adam stepped to his side, Bill finally looked up, phone still in hand in front of him. “Long time no see, Carrington.” He smirked as he looked Adam up and down. “Nice duds.”
Adam glanced down at his Keen sandals, cargo shorts, and a T-shirt he’d gotten at a concert last year. His designer suits had been one of the first things he’d sold, and good riddance. “Uh, thanks. Look, I need a favor. There’s a guy I need you to take on being charged with armed robbery. And, um, I need you to do it pro bono.”
That caused Bill’s phone arm to lower, his eyes to widen. “Are you pranking me, Carrington? You want me to take on a case pro bono?”
Adam’s back molars ground together. “Think of the PR it will get you. I heard you were going to make a bid for the district attorney position.”
Bill studied him, mulling it over, and Adam sent up a tiny plea toward heaven. Just one word.Please.Problem was, he didn’t know if he was asking God to influence Bill to take Curtis Haywood’s case or reject it.
“I like you, Carrington. I really do. But pro bono on a case like this?” He shook his head. “The polls say I don’t need PR that bad.” His hand with the phone rose, his thumbs flying again. “Sorry,” he called over his shoulder.
Adam felt both disappointment and relief. He’d have to find another good lawyer who’d take on the case, but Curtis Haywood was probably better off without Bill Mabrey anyway.
Glancing at his wristwatch, he picked up his pace and headed back to his car, stopping off at a dollar store to pick up a few things before driving to the Arroyo residence.
Olivia was already outside when he pulled up to the drive. He had to practically sprint around the car to make it to the passenger’s side to beat her at opening the door.
She placed a hand on her hip. “Really?”
He winked. “Get used to it. My mama raised a gentleman.”
