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“It’s nice to meet you Nicolas,” Jennifer Warner said to me with a friendly smile as I was introduced. I could tell she was nervous, and she’d obviously put as much if not more care into her appearance than I had. She was wearing a slim skirt to her knees and a cardigan set with a simple gold chain necklace. Her shoulder-length blond hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, and her makeup was simple and understated.
Daniel stood next to her with an arm around her waist and one hand outstretched for a handshake. “Daniel Warner. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Please call me Nico,” I said before shaking their hands and taking my seat at the table.
The meeting was just a preliminary opportunity to meet, but it felt more monumental than that. It made the adoption seem real in a way it hadn’t before. I began to imagine Pippa in their arms and tucked away in a tidy, color-coordinated nursery somewhere in their home at night. The Warners already had a son, so Pippa would have a big brother to grow up with.
What if the brother ended up ditching her down the line? What if he was a punk who let her down? Whose selfish actions left her in the lurch?
Nausea began to swirl in my gut the longer I sat with them. It was almost like every nice thing I learned about them made me even sicker. The only negative I’d heard so far was Daniel’s comment about being friends with “the baby’s uncle Curt.” But everyone knew Curt, and you could hardly blame a guy for trying to reassure me he had some kind of connection to the family already. Everything else had been perfect. They were the ideal family for little Pippa.
And it made me want to scream.
This meeting had started the timer on the adoption process, and my remaining moments with Pippa suddenly became limited. On the one hand, I would soon be free to return to my real life in California. On the other, I’d be saying goodbye to the little girl forever. It was a noxious mix of anticipation, fear, and excitement. But most of all, guilt.
By the time Hon had handed me a packet of paperwork to look over and walked me to the door, I wasn’t quite sure whether I was going to make it home without vomiting or breaking down in tears like a child.
“Nico, as of right now, we’re just waiting for the birth certificate to be sent from the registrar’s office. If Adriana had received a copy of it already, we weren’t able to find it in her things. I would expect it to be here in a day or two at the latest. So that means everything will be ready to move forward legally, and then we’ll just be waiting on your consent. Take some time to think this through, okay? It’s a big decision. The Warners understand this is a lot to take in all at once. I’m sure they can be patient if you need more time.”
“It’ll be fine,” I said in reply. “It’s not like I’m going to take a newborn back to California and raise her over a tattoo shop.” I’d been trying to lighten the mood, but my attempt fell flat.
The attorney shot me a sympathetic smile and wished me well.
After the short drive home, I walked in the door to the house, fully intending on grabbing Pippa up from wherever she was and just holding her, but before I had a chance to even close the front door, Goldie took one look at my face and pulled me into a strong hug.
“The baby,” I said in a rough voice against her shoulder. I wasn’t quite sure if it was a statement or a question, but it didn’t really matter.
“Pippa’s fine, but you aren’t, honey. And that’s okay,” she said. “Just let it out, sweetie.”
I didn’t cry, but I did let myself indulge in her loving embrace for several long beats.
“Why is this so hard?” I muttered.
Goldie chuckled softly as we pulled apart. Her eyes were kind as she patted one of my cheeks. “Love always is, Nico. Love always is.”
That word was enough to get my attention. Love. I didn’t love her. I barely knew her. There was no love involved in this for me. Sure, I’d loved my mom and my sister Adriana, but I’d left them so long ago. And the one time I thought a man loved me the way I’d wanted… no, needed… to be loved at the time, I’d been dead wrong.
Did I love Pippa? It wasn’t possible. She was just a tiny nothing of a thing. Fifteen pounds of milk and poop, who had the ability to make my ears bleed at the drop of a hat. Love? Surely not. And after watching goddamned Weston Wilde walk away from me the night before after the tempting promises of his touch, I knew there wasn’t even the hope of love for me in Hobie fucking Texas.
