I slurp the dregs of my lukewarm cappuccino. Jack thumbs through his phone, pulling up the contact info for their adoption agency. “You should talk to them,” he says. “Hope Springs. They were fantastic. They do all domestic adoptions.”
“Oh, really?” I try—badly, judging by Jack’s face—to hide my surprise. “And how did you decide on that route?”
“Well, we were somewhat limited,” he says. “It’s incredibly challenging, and often illegal, for gay couples to adopt internationally.”
“Oh! Duh. I’m so sorry.”
“Penny is Chinese-American, if you’re wondering. Her parents were in Philly.”
“Of course. I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m Japanese-American.”
“No big deal. Happens a lot.” He waves me off. “And I’m not saying domestic adoption was easy. There are birth parents here who don’t want to place their babies with same-sex couples, either. You guys won’t have to worry about that, obviously.” He pauses for another swig of coffee. “But make sure you’re prepared for the home study process—it’ll be months of background checks and interviewing references and coming to your house, and the whole nine. It’s going to feel overwhelming at times, but trust me, it’ll all be worth it.”
Home study.
He smiles reassuringly: “Once you’re in the thick of it, you can text me, and I’ll remind you how empty my life was before Penny.”
“That is so generous,” I say, before letting out a long sigh. “It’s those visits to our house that I’m worried about.”
“Why? Because you live in the city? I thought Shaw was full of young families.”
“No, it’s not the neighborhood, although I do have my heart set on Bethesda. My girlfriend, the one I told you about, loves it here. And the public schools can’t be beat.”
He nods. “They’re the best.”
“It’s that we’ve been stuck in a one-bedroom apartment for a year and a half, and we’ve held off signing a new lease on a bigger place because we’re hoping to buy.”
“Oh.” He frowns. “Yeah, the market is really tough right now.”
“You’re telling me.” I shake my head. “We’ve really been through it.”
As I unspool the whole saga, I think I can see the wheels turning. Maybe I’m projecting. But when I’m done, he just sits there quietly, like he’s weighing something. I give him a nudge: “But this is all great for you, right, assuming you two are selling?”
“Yeah, we’re aiming to list by the end of the month.” He pauses again. I can tell he’s holding something back. “You’re right, the timing has worked out pretty well for us.”
“Maybe we can buy your house!” I say it like it’s a joke. We both laugh.
“Itisfunny that we met like this,” he says. My heart rate picks up. “And God, we’ve put so much work into that place—you should’ve seen the sad kitchen when we bought it. I would love to know that it’s in good hands.”
Yes, yes, yes. Say it, Jack. An off-market deal has to seem like his idea.
“What’s your budget, if you don’t mind my ask—”
“One three.”
Jack goes silent again. But my pulse is deafening, booming louder than the bass of all those idling Ubers full of drunk morons, clogging U Street on Saturday nights.
“That might be in the ballpark,” he says finally. “Well, I’ll be sure to give you a heads-up when we know what day it’s hitting the market. That way you and your agent can be first in the door.”
Fuck.
Now Jack’s phone lights up. “Just a sec, this is Curt.” He holds up a finger. “Hey, I’m just at Clover with a yoga friend.… Uh-huh… Sure, that’s fine. Okay, see you in a minute.”
He turns back to me. “Yay! You get to meet Penny!”
My stomach does a little flip. I guess winning over Jack was only my opening act.
5
