Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Aaron didn’t wait for an answer. He moved around Curt and me, and gasped. One of those full-stop, hand on your heart gasps.
Curt and I shared a panicked look before braving the chaos within…the strewn pillows and toys everywhere.
Deon, a middle-aged man in his fifties with dark skin and gray hair, was at the island sipping water, his sharp eyes cataloging the aftermath of Murphy’s mayhem while Aaron gaped.
Great. We weren’t off to an ideal start, but the ball was rolling and there’d be no redo.
I cleared my throat and stepped forward, offering Deon my hand. “Hi, again. I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself properly. I’m Matt.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Deon and your hand is freezing,” he replied, his eyes crinkling with humor.
“Sorry. I fell in the snow.”
“Happens to the best of us.” Deon motioned to Curt. “And this is your husband?”
“Gross, no,” we said in unison.
“I’m Aaron, Matt’s husband,” Aaron interjected, skewering us with a stern stare that under different circumstances would have been hot as hell. “Something tells me that you may have met Murphy.”
“A furry ball of energy about yea high?” Deon stooped to give an approximate measurement of the red menace.
Aaron picked up a few pillows and held the pink bunny by its droopy wet ear. “That would be him. I apologize for the mess. I promise we’re usually very tidy.”
Another wicked glare.
Deon grinned. “No need to apologize. Real life is messy. How old is your dog?”
“Almost a year.”
“I have a note in the file that you have a daughter too.”
“She’s one day old. Just born yesterday.” I rocked on my heels, unable to keep my proud new dad smile in check.
“Congratulations. Looks like you have your hands full,” he commented.
“Yes, but…we can handle it. We’re very responsible, I swear.” Aaron gnawed his bottom lip. “Matt hurried from the hospital to install the babyproof locks and…and…maybe we should show you the nursery.”
Deon inclined his chin. “Lead the way.”
Curt motioned to the toys and whispered, “Go on. I’ll take care of this part.”
“Thanks.”
We’d commissioned an artist to hand-paint animals on the eucalyptus walls: a giraffe, an elephant, a lion, and dozens of birds in a tree with long branches and a thick trunk where a bespectacled owl read a book. A bookcase lined the wall under the window and was filled with board books and toys. A glider rocking chair was positioned between the crib and a changing table. A colorful mobile hung above the crib, and a pastel-toned baby blanket was draped over the side.
Aaron had plans to monogram the baby’s name—names…everywhere, but for now, the tone was neutral. Not pink, not blue. It was green and beige and orange with hints of yellow and red. He’d put his heart and soul into this room, arranging hidden alcoves for diapers and baby lotions and stocking the closet with extras of everything.
We were ready.
“The second crib will be delivered in a few days. There’s space for it along that wall.” Aaron gestured across the room, and continued in a rush. “Mia will be with us for at least a couple of weeks, so this will be where Xander sleeps. We have clothes, toys, bottles, and baby food for him. I even bought a cookbook to learn how to make our own healthier baby food…no preservatives or additives. And of course, we have emergency kits and those little gates to keep them out of harm’s way. And Matty—I mean, Matt—babyproofed the whole house.”
I nodded enthusiastically. “I did. Let me show you.”
We gave Deon the full tour, ending up in the kitchen where Curt was perched on a barstool, scrolling his cell.
“I would have bounced, but Deon parked behind me in the driveway,” Curt muttered for my ears only.
“No problem. I think it’s almost over.” I watched Aaron, showing Deon the yard from the bank of windows off the kitchen.
Deon hadn’t said much. Just hummed and nodded. I couldn’t tell if that was good or bad, and damn, my stomach was in knots.
“That’s everything,” Aaron concluded with a too-cheery expression. “Or did you want to see the bottles and formula we bought?”
“That’s not necessary.” Deon set his tablet on the island and reached for the water bottle he’d abandoned earlier. “I understand you’ve been through this part previously.”
“Yes, but not the final inspection,” I clarified.
Deon uncapped the bottle. “This isn’t an inspection. It’s a home visit.”
“Right. We went through this last year, so we’re probably rusty, but—”
“Nonsense. Your home is beautiful, and you’re obviously very well prepared to welcome children into your lives—a daughter and a son. Congratulations on your adoption. And congrats to Murphy too.”
The relief was so intense, I could have fallen to my knees. This was years in the making, an uphill climb fraught with some of the lowest lows we’d ever experienced as a couple.