Page 96 of Second Dance
“Right. I see.” I swallowed once, twice, fighting for control over my emotions. After a beat or two, I said, “I hadn’t thought of that. But if she’s open to it, and you guys are okay, then I would love to adopt her too.”
“That way no one can ever pull us apart,” Bella said.
No one could ever pull us apart, regardless. But I didn’t say that. Once they had children of their own, they would understand the fierce, unconditional love a parent felt for his or her kids. All the ways in which we would fight for them and sacrifice for them.
“I love you two very much.” I pulled them into my chest, kissing the tops of their warm, salty heads, and thanked God for all the ways they’d enriched my life and made me a better man.
Thank you, Mattie, for sharing them with me. Entrusting them to me.
A pale yellow swallowtail appeared out of nowhere, riding the wind as if it were headed right for us. It settled on the driftwood beside us, wings opening and closing in slow, graceful rhythm. A moment later it rose, gliding out over the tide, the sunlight catching on its wings until it disappeared into the burnished line where sea met sky.
Toward heaven.
On the morning of our court date, the five of us headed into the courtroom. Sunlight poured through high windows, warming the polished oak tables and flags that framed the bench. Ben was waiting for us, papers stacked neatly in front of him. Across theaisle, the guardian ad litem smiled at Bella and Peter dressed as if it were Sunday morning instead of a weekday in June.
Gillian and Grace settled directly behind us. I turned briefly, exchanging a nervous glance with Gillian. As much as Ben had assured me that this would go as planned, I couldn’t help but worry.
When the bailiff called our case, the judge looked up from the file, her expression kind. “Good morning. This is the petition of Alexander Garcia to adopt minors Peter Walsh and Isabella Walsh.” She glanced at me over her glasses. “Mr. Garcia, would you please come forward with the children?”
We stood before her bench, me between them, one hand on each of their shoulders.
The judge smiled softly. “I understand you’ve been their stepfather since they were four and six?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” My throat felt thick. “I’ve raised them since I married their mother. Since her passing, it’s just been the three of us. As it says in the petition, we searched for their biological father for years without any luck, making it impossible for me to officially adopt them. Until now.”
The judge nodded, then turned to the kids. “Peter, would you like to tell me what this adoption means to you?”
Peter shifted his weight, then straightened his shoulders. “It doesn’t mean anything because it’s just a piece of paper. This is my dad, no matter who says it’s true or not. He’s the one who taught me to ride a bike, and never missed a baseball game, and helped me with my science project. He’s the one I go to whenever anything good or bad happens or when I need advice. He’s never wavered in his love for us. Not once.”
My eyes burned and a sob escaped from my chest.
The judge smiled gently. “That’s a very good answer, Peter. Thank you.” She turned to Bella. “And you, Isabella?”
Bella clasped her hands, her voice trembling but clear. “When my mom died, I couldn’t imagine how we would go on without her. But my dad somehow held us together, kept us safe. Loved us. My mom used to say I was a ‘daddy’s girl,’ and it’s true. He never tries to make me be anyone but myself. Even when I mess up, he still loves me. He’s my dad. Always will be, no matter what the court decides.”
Ben cleared his throat and looked away, but not before I caught the shimmer of tears in his eyes. The old softie.
The judge folded her hands on the bench. “You’ve raised remarkable children, Mr. Garcia. Well done. It’s clear how close you all are. Often, what I see in this courtroom makes me doubt humanity. But not today. Today, I’m honored to be a small part of your journey as a family and to witness what a good father looks like.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” I managed.
She nodded once, then picked up her pen. “Then it gives me great pleasure to grant this petition. From this day forward, Peter and Isabella Walsh will be legally known as Peter and Isabella Garcia. Congratulations, Mr. Garcia. You are now, in the eyes of the law and of this court, their father.”
The gavel came down softly, one decisive, beautiful sound.
Bella let out a shaky laugh, and Peter grinned at me through tears. I pulled them both into my arms, holding tight as the courtroom blurred.
“Thank you, God,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Thank you.”
Behind us, Gillian wiped her eyes. Grace had her hands clasped, grinning from ear to ear. Bella ran to them both, tugging their hands until all five of us were together, hugging and crying and laughing all at the same time.
“Let’s go celebrate, guys,” I said. “Somewhere worthy of your dress-up clothes.”
Outside, the courthouse steps gleamed in the sun. Bella slipped her hand into mine, and Peter walked on my other side, taller than me now but still my boy. Gillian and Grace were just steps in front of us. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I just stood there, taking them all in—knowing deep in my bones that this family was meant to be. This was the family I’d prayed for, the one I’d fought to keep, and now, finally, complete with Gillian and Grace.
Later, when the kids were talking over one another about where to eat lunch, I stepped back to draw Gillian into my arms.
“It’s all going to be okay,” I said. “Just like you said.”
