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She rushed over to him, her joy competing with her adrenaline as both soared through her. “What does it say? What do we need to do?” Jean grabbed onto his forearm so he’d lower the phone. He did and she peered at it.
Jean and Reuben,
I hope this email finds you well. I have a bit of good news! A sweet birth mother has selected a few couple profiles to go over, and yours was one of them. She’d like a bit more information, and I’ve attached a list of her questions below. Please fill them out and get them back to me at your earliest convenience.
Yours,
Miranda
Jean looked up at Reuben. “What kind of questions?”
“I don’t know,” Reuben said. “She said she selected a few profiles.” He lowered his phone, his expression turning serious. “This could be nothing, Jean.”
“I know,” she said, though her pulse and her hopes had soared into the atmosphere at the reading of the email. “But it’s an email we haven’t gotten before. She’s never told us anyone has selected our profile.” That was something, and Jean had decided at the beginning of the year to count her blessings instead of worrying about things she couldn’t control.
This email was a blessing, even if it caused her hopes to skyrocket. They might come crashing back to earth, which would hurt, yes. But they could also be satisfied, and Jean could potentially have a baby of her own soon enough.
“I can answer the questions right now.” She turned toward the tiny built-in desk on the cusp of the kitchen. She sat in the chair, glad when Reuben didn’t immediately go back upstairs. She clicked a few times, and it seemed to take an hour for the computer to come to life and connect to the internet.
She checked her email, and she had the same email from their adoption case worker. She opened the document in the attachments, and the page filled the screen. Everything rushed at her then, and Jean closed her eyes tightly. “I can’t read it, Reuben. You do it.”
“The first question is where are you from?” he read. “How many brothers and sisters do you have? How many kids do you want? Your profile says you live in a lighthouse. Can I see some pictures of it?”
Jean opened her eyes and read the questions. Reuben had read almost all of them, and she quickly scanned the last two.
Would one baby be enough for you? Or will you try to adopt again?
Do you want a boy or a girl? And don’t tell me any baby that’s healthy. I really want to know.
She looked up to Reuben. “The last one’s the hardest.”
He nodded. “What are you going to put?”
Timber barked, and Jean startled in her seat. Her heartbeat got jumpstarted for the second time in the past five minutes, and she scolded the canine for scaring her. He simply barked again, and Jean looked toward the stairs that led into the bottom floor of the lighthouse.
“It’s just me,” a woman called, and Jean hurried to darken the screen.
“AJ’s here,” she said. “She’s early.” She got to her feet as AJ entered the doorway. “Hey.” She moved toward her, her nerves off the chart for some reason. She loved AJ; she adored all of the women who had become her friends. They’d been there for her when she’d miscarried, and all of them had rushed to her aid when she and her Seafaring Girls had been adrift at sea.
She and AJ were close, but Jean didn’t want to tell anyone about the email yet.
“You’ve done early,” she said as she hugged AJ. “I didn’t have time to put his new shirt on.”
AJ grinned at her and tucked her long, straight hair. “Lisa got a little seasick, so we came in sooner than we thought.” She glanced over to Reuben. “Hey, Reuben.”
“Hello, AJ. He’s still asleep.” He gestured over his shoulder to the hall behind them. Two bedrooms sat that way, and Jean used one for her sewing studio. Asher slept in a bassinet in the master bedroom.
“I’ll get him,” Jean said. “You have to see his shirt. You’re going to love it.” The pull to the computer nearly smashed her, but Jean went by it and down the hall as Reuben said something else to AJ. She grabbed the tiny tee off the sewing machine and ducked into the main bedroom. The walls curved around, and Jean hadn’t loved living underground at first. She did now—she loved everything about Five Island Cove—and she peered over the edge of the bassinet.
Asher was wide awake, silently laying there. He screeched and kicked his legs and wagged his arms when he saw her. “Ma-ma-ma-ma,” he babbled. Jean giggled and reached in to pick him up.
“You didn’t call for me, you silly boy.” She sank onto the bed and held the chunky baby in her lap. “Let’s get you changed for your mama.” She had to manhandle him, as Asher didn’t help at all to get his current T-shirt off and the new one on.
Jean tugged it down and stood him on his feet on her knees. “Oh, so handsome,” she cooed at him. He grinned at her, the tiniest bit of slobber in the corner of his mouth. She stood and put him on her hip before going down the hall.
She stopped at the end of it and turned him so AJ could see the T-shirt from the front. “Look.”
AJ was already looking, her face growing brighter with every second that passed. She laughed, and Jean sure did love causing that joy in people. “I love this,” she said, sweeping over to Jean in the sophisticated, elegant way she had.
