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Gordon places a plate of cookies in front of us along with two coffees. We both thank him, taking the coffee and cookies not to appear rude.
“This is Ashley graduating high school.” Gordon brings out an album, proudly showing off his daughter. “You know, she wanted to be a lawyer but hated studying. She lasted two years in college before working in a few places back in Minnesota. Then she went to London.”
“She was beautiful, Mr. Stone.” Amelia smiles.
“Please, call me Gordon,” he insists. “Ashley was ten years old when we first fostered her. Her biological mother died during childbirth, and her father raised her until she was five. It all got too much for him, and he passed out drunk one day and never woke up. According to social services, she was placed in several homes until placed with us. We eventually adopted her, couldn’t have asked for a more loving daughter.”
Across from where we sit, Mildred’s face is blank, almost in a catatonic state. Gordon removes his glasses, wiping the corners of his eyes as Amelia hands him a tissue and tries to comfort him.
There is no other time to reveal the truth, and so I do, much to my disappointment. Gordon lowers his head, trying to remain strong, but it’s obvious this isn’t what he wants to hear. Mildred is still quiet, not a single sound nor even a blink of an eye.
“My mother and Will’s mother are doing everything they can to make sure they find the baby’s father,” Amelia reassures him, to then take a piece of paper and pen out of her purse, scribbling her details down. “If ever you need us, please never hesitate to call. Even if it’s just to talk.”
Gordon takes the piece of paper from her, dropping his gaze to lift it moments later with a small smile. “You remind me of Ash. She spoke just like you.”
I can’t help but smile too. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to her that night. They did speak similarly now that I think of it.
We say our goodbyes, reminding them to contact us if ever they need anything. As I lean in to give Mildred a hug, there is no movement from her body. But as I pull away slowly, my gaze meets hers and beneath her wide eyes is a single tear.
I wipe the lonesome tear with my finger, then lean in and kiss her forehead. To watch her in pain is unbearable, putting life into perspective. There is nothing Amelia nor I can do to take their pain away from losing their daughter, but we can make sure their grandson is given a life he deserves.
As we take the short drive back to the hospital, we both sit in silence, trying to process it all. I’m glad Amelia suggested we visit Gordon and Mildred; it’s what Ashley would have wanted since she had no other siblings.
“I hope they find peace,” Amelia murmurs, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. “I’d like to come to visit again soon, make sure they are okay.”
“That was hard,” I echo her sentiments. “To know they have lost two children. They aren’t a stranger to grief, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Ashley was always meant to be their daughter. She really was beautiful, Will.”
“She was,” I whisper.
“Sometimes, people come into each other's lives in unconventional ways. There were some case studies we were doing on children from broken homes and also the fostering system. It breaks my heart to think of any child having to go through this. I thank the lord Andy at least had Adriana, and nothing happened to her. To think of what could have happened to him.”
“Your parents always treated Andy as their own. There would have been no chance he would have gone anywhere but your home.”
“I guess you’re right,” she mumbles, then stalls. “Mom and Dad feel the same about you.”
“Charlie, yes. Lex…”
“Is just as stubborn as you,” she chastises me but places her hand softly on mine. “But that’s a conversation for another time.”
We arrive back at the hospital. Mom and Charlie have stepped out for lunch at the cafeteria. No news on exactly when Stewart will arrive if he comes at all.
“I want to stay here until he arrives,” I tell Amelia. “Just to make sure the little guy is okay.”
“Of course.” Amelia looks somewhat relieved of my suggestion. “Why don’t we grab a quick lunch then go spend some time with him?”
We spend the day watching his tiny chest rise and fall, peacefully sleeping inside the warm incubator. The nurse allows Amelia to place her finger inside so she is able to caress his cheek. I watch her with ease, seeing how nurturing she is toward this baby. It only makes me want to begin my life with her, make her my wife, and raise a family together.
Mid-afternoon, Stewart Knight appears at the end of the corridor. Of course, I knew of him. We’d frequented a few events and a business summit from memory. Stewart Knight is the eldest brother of the Knight brothers. They own the largest hotel chain in all of Europe with a royalty bloodline.
Stewart walks toward us, still dressed in a suit. His hair is a wild mess, a mirror image to me only days go.
“I believe this is your son,” is all I say.
“Ashley is…” Stewart struggles to get the words out. “It can’t be true.”
Mom and Charlie step in as I tap on the glass and say goodbye to the little boy who captured our hearts in such a short amount of time. I have no idea why it’s so hard to let go but need to trust the lord above that he will be watched and given a chance at life.
