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She just smiles as tears drip from her eyes onto Eden’s pale pink footie outfit. “This is time. And this is what I wanted.”
She shifts so she’s got Miss Baby pressed against her chest. “I love you, peanut,” she says in a soft, tear-choked voice. “But Mama’s got to go to school and make a good life. I don’t want to drag you with me like a box of luggage.”
She cries more, and Luke brings out a pack of tissues from his pocket, leaning over the rug and glass-topped coffee table to pass it to her.
“I’m so sorry for the things I said. Like to the press.” She covers her mouth as a small sob slips out.
“We’ve had a lot worse,” I tell her. “At least with this, nobody got hurt.”
That makes her cry more.
“I’m just so sorry.” She dabs at her brown eyes. “If you want another baby, I would understand.”
“But we don’t,” Sky says, his voice firm. “We want this one.”
“From the moment I picked her up, she felt like someone I knew,” I tell Zara. “I know it sounds weird, but—”
“It doesn’t.” She wipes her eyes. “That’s how I felt when I saw that video of you two at the hospital.”
Luke and I look at each other.
“You saw that?” he asks her.
“I think that’s what got the idea in my head,” she says softly. “Without me knowing till I went inpatient and started to think about it. But yeah, I saw that. And you seemed so nice,” she tells me, “on that video. Like a real caretaker, you know?”
I nod, and Sky reaches out to hold my hand.
“I think that part of me, the one that’s all unconscious during those spells, it just wanted the best for the baby. My cousin is gay, so I don’t know… I don’t remember,” she says, looking down.
“We don’t blame you at all,” Luke says. “For any of it. That’s all in the past now.”
“Could I do another statement?” she asks. “Something that might help? I would be open to talking about my bipolar. To raise awareness.”
Sky picks up a folder from the table right beside us.
“We don’t need you to talk about anything unless you want to. We do have a few proposals for you. Approved by our lawyers.” I listen, watching Edey, as Sky tells Zara about the money we want to put toward her schooling. My throat aches and my eyes start welling when he asks if she would like to keep in touch with Edey.
“You could see her sometimes,” he says. “If you would like.”
Zara really starts to cry then. She passes Eden off to me and spends some time drying her face with tissues.
“We want Eden,” Sky says. “But we also want to do what we can to be sure you’re taken care of. As her mother, you’re important to us.”
“It’s a lot of money.” She looks to me, like she hopes I might back her up. “It’s too much.” She gives a soft, awkward laugh.
“Not that much.” Luke waggles his brows, and I let out a little hoot by accident, and she laughs.
“Listen, it’s inherited,” he tells her. “It’s not mine, and it’s not yours. Let’s both take some. Does that seem good?”
She dabs her eyes again. “If you’re sure.”
“The only thing we need,” Sky tells her, “is to know you’re sure—that Eden can be ours, through adoption. We’re willing to give some time if that’s what you need. Limbo isn’t fun, but we’ll do it. To ensure the best outcome for all of us.”
She shakes her head, tearing up again as she says, “No, I’m sure. I just want to get myself together. Getting pregnant threw my body and my mind for a loop. I love my own child, but I’m not ready to be a full-time mother. Not now, and maybe never. I would like to see her, though.” She wipes her eyes again, and sniffles. “If you think that would be okay.”
“It would be perfect,” Sky says. “We would love that. You could be more like a family friend we see every year, or every other year. Or you could be more like an aunt.”
“Like a birth mom,” I correct him gently. “You will be her mom. And she can know that if you want her to.”
We’ve been hammering these details out since yesterday, so I already know all this is okay with Luke.
Zara nods, wiping at her eyes again. “Whatever you want,” she says softly.
“No. Not just what we want. We want you to feel okay,” Luke says. “When Eden’s older, she’ll want her mom happy. That’s what we want as well.”
“Someday, we’ll have to have that talk, and she’ll find out she didn’t come from Daddy and Papa.” I wink, hoping to keep things light.
“I can be her mother,” Zara says. “As long as she can live at your house.” She laughs. “I love children, but a baby…I don’t know.”
