When he was ready, he went back to the kitchen, chose a classical piece from the iPod, lit the candles, dimmed the lights and poured himself a glass of cider. Then he settled back to wait. As the minutes ticked by, his nerves stretched so taut he was afraid they’d snap. It was after six when he finally heard her car pull into the driveway. Feeling like a teenager on prom night, he stood and faced the door.
Ann stepped through the door and without even looking around, flipped on the lights. Hank took one look at her expression and his spirits fell. She didn’t seem surprised. She didn’t seem pleased. She looked as though someone had dealt a blow to her midsection from which she was still reeling.
“Annie,” he said softly, taking a tentative step toward her. She looked toward him, her eyes finally focusing on his face. There was so much hurt there. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. “Annie love, what’s happened? Are you okay?”
He folded his arms around her and felt a shudder sweep through her. “Please, sweetheart, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
Her arms crept around his waist and she clung to him, sobbing as though her heart had broken. Hank felt something tear loose inside him as he held her. “It’s okay,” he murmured, rubbing his hands up and down her back as if to ward off a chill. “Shh. It’s okay.”
“No,” she said, her voice ragged from all the tears she’d shed.
“Then tell me. Let me help.”
“It’s Melissa.”
Hank’s heart began to hammer harder. Melissa, dear God, if anything had happened to their baby, if Tracy had had an accident…
“What…” he began and realized that his own throat was so thick with emotion he could barely speak.
“They called.”
“Who called?” he demanded, his fingers digging into her arms. “Dammit, Ann, is she hurt? What?”
“They want to take her away from me.”
Chapter 14
“Take her away?” Hank repeated in a daze. There was a huge knot in the pit of his stomach. He kept remembering the warm, tender feelings that crept over him whenever Melissa held out her chubby little arms for a hug, whenever she stared at him with those huge, innocent blue eyes. The unexpected power of those emotions had held him captive for weeks now.
“What does that mean?” he asked, studying the agonized expression in Ann’s eyes and feeling his own chest constrict in pain. “Can they do that? Can they just come in here and take her?”
“They can do whatever they want,” Ann said wearily. “She’s a ward of the state. I’m just her foster mother.”
“But why would they take her away? Can’t they see how traumatic it would be for a three-year-old to be uprooted again? Explain it to them. You’re more than just a foster mother. You’re a psychologist. Surely they’ll listen.”
“It’s not that simple. The mother has finally relinquished custody, which makes Melissa eligible for adoption.” Ann’s bleak, uncommonly submissive tone only heightened his dismay. Her eyes were luminous with tears. “There’s this couple, Hank. They want her.” Though she was trying to sound so brave, her voice broke, carving a jagged path through his heart. “They want to adopt my baby and the state thinks it would be best for Melissa to have two parents. How can I argue?”
Hank tried to gather his composure, when what he felt like doing was bashing his fist into a wall or better yet into the face of whatever bureaucrat was making this heartless decision. Couldn’t they see that no one would ever be a better parent to Melissa than Annie?
Right now, though, her vulnerability left him shaken. She needed him to be strong. She needed him to cling to for once. Now was no time for him to be falling apart or charging out of here and doing something rash. They needed to do some clear thinking. He didn’t know the ins and outs of state regulations, but surely there was a way to block this. Melissa was theirs. She loved them. They loved her. It was as simple—and as complex, apparently—as that.
“We’ll fight it,” he said flatly. “There must be things we can do. We’ll apply to adopt her ourselves. Sit down, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk about it.”
Obviously drained, Ann sank down in a chair, folded her arms on the table and lowered her head. His thoughts reeling, Hank put the teakettle on the stove and tried to calm down. His outrage at the injustice of this wouldn’t help now. He poured the tea finally and put the cup in front of her. “Drink it, Annie. It’ll make you feel better.”
She lifted her head and managed a trembling grin. “Don’t tell me now you’ve finally become a convert.”
“To what?” he said, staring at her blankly as he sank down in a chair across from her.
“Tea.”
“Annie, I don’t care what you drink. Personally, I could use a stiff shot of Scotch. The point is we have to make some decisions and I gather we don’t have a lot of time.”
She shook her head wearily. “Not we, Hank. Me. I have to make the decisions. I appreciate your concern, but it’s my problem.”
His heart hammering, Hank stood so fast his chair went spinning. It crashed into the counter. “Dammit, Annie, this isn’t just some friendly concern on my part. Don’t you think this matters to me, too? That little girl is mine just as much as if I’d fathered her.” He slammed the chair back against the table and leaned down until he was mere inches from her. She swallowed convulsively as he said with slow, furious emphasis, “I have tucked her into bed. I have read her stories. I’ve bandaged her cuts and kissed away
