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“Jean,” Miranda Heller said. “Reuben. Right on time.” She rose from her chair, and she was much taller than Jean had imagined she’d be. They’d never met in person, and Jean couldn’t help the rush of emotion that flowed forward at the sight of this angel who’d helped them find a baby.
“Miranda,” she said as she ran the last few steps to the woman and wrapped her in a tight hug. She wanted to say thank you, but she couldn’t get her voice to work. When she thought she wouldn’t fall apart, she stepped back.
Reuben tucked her against his side, so she didn’t have to be strong, and he shook Miranda’s hand in a much more professional way. Jean wiped her eyes, determined not to blubber through the whole meeting.
“Come on.” Miranda wore a bright smile on her round face and in her electric blue eyes. “She’s waiting for you over here in greeting room two.”
“She’s here?” Jean’s gaze flew to the doors lining the wall opposite of the desks.
“She sure is.” Miranda led the way, her long legs eating up twice the distance that Jean’s short ones did. “We always bring our moms in before the couple. Most of them like to see you before you see them, and all of our greeting rooms have one-way glass. You can see out; we can’t see in.”
She spoke over her shoulder, her long blonde hair reminding Jean of AJ’s. Miranda had to be in her late thirties or so, and Jean noticed she didn’t wear a wedding band. She had no idea what kind of internal fortitude it would take to do Miranda’s job. When she’d had to call Jean last year…
She took a deep breath as Miranda paused outside a room with a clearly marked two on it. She told herself she was meant to be this baby’s mother, no matter what she encountered on the other side of the door.
Her mother had told her she could do hard things, and Jean thought this might be the hardest thing of all for her. Meeting new people for an introvert could almost be considered a form of torture, and yet, here Jean stood.
Kristen had told her she’d be the best mother in the world, and Jean had believed her. She clung to that right now, as the door swung open to reveal a young woman a few inches taller than Jean.
Her belly stuck straight out from her likely-normally thin frame, and she rested one hand on it while she smiled at Jean and Reuben. Other than the height and the obvious pregnancy, Jean could’ve been looking in a mirror. Becky was obviously younger. She’d braided her hair into two French braids that went down the back of her head, the ends of them falling over her shoulders.
She wore a flowing maxi dress in black, and Jean couldn’t see her feet to know what shoes she’d put on that morning. She didn’t have much makeup on, and she was a classically beautiful young woman.
“Hello, Becky,” she said, and she appreciated how Miranda melted out of the way. Jean went by her and into the greeting room, which had been wallpapered in fun, bright colors. She hadn’t been expecting that, and she took a quick sweep of the room before she reached Becky. “Do you hug strangers?”
“I do,” Becky said with a smile. She opened her arms, and Jean stepped right into them. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she didn’t let them out. She didn’t shake. She simply held the young woman who had made all of her dreams come true.
Thankful she’d been able to maintain control of her emotions, she stepped back and said, “This is Reuben, my husband.”
“Hello.” Becky lifted one hand in a wave, and Reuben swooped in and hugged her too. The tension broke as they both laughed, and then both Jean and Reuben looked at Becky’s belly.
“I’m not as uncomfortable as I look,” she assured them as she moved over to the couch in the room. A table had been pushed in front of the one-way glass, and a wingback chair stood next to it. Reuben took that, leaving Jean to perch on the edge of the couch opposite from Becky.
She handed her the wrapped jumpsuit. “I made you this,” she said. “For after the baby is born.”
Becky took it, her eyes wide. “Thank you.” She started to unwrap it, but Jean shook her head.
“You don’t have to open it now. It won’t fit or anything, but Miranda said you liked fashion, and I can’t imagine it’ll shift that much in the next couple of months.” She shot Reuben a nervous look, her mouth suddenly so dry.
“Tell us what you’re studying at BU,” Reuben said, his smile warm and personable.
“Biology,” Becky said as she set the gift aside. “I want to be a doctor.” She smiled, and Jean returned it. “I took some concurrent enrollment courses during high school, and I did a summer camp at BU a few years ago.”
“Wow,” Jean said. “You must really love it.”
“I loved my professor at BU,” Becky said. “You might know her. She’s from Five Island Cove, and she used to tell us stories of the islands and growing up there.”
Jean’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”
Becky shook her head and looked down at her hands, which she’d folded neatly in her lap. “To be honest, I chose you because I’ve always wanted to go to the cove. I loved her stories. It sounded so…perfect.” She looked up. “It was Doctor Hall. Do you know her?”
Jean swallowed, but the lump in her throat would not go very far. “Eloise is one of my very best friends,” she said. “She’s back in the cove. She owns and operates the Cliffside Inn.”
Becky nodded. “I know. I keep in touch with her every now and then.”
Jean nodded to her belly. “Since this?”
Becky shook her head. “No, ma’am. I haven’t told her about this.”
