Chapter 16 #2
“She has some mild attachment disorders that leave her anxious, and when she’s anxious, she either stops speaking or tries to hide by covering her eyes.
I don’t mean for you to talk to her about your anxiety or anything, obviously, but…
” I pause, hoping I’m not asking too much of him, and knowing in the same breath that I’m not.
“I need you. I just… need you to be her uncle. And be a safe space for her. Is that OK?” Aidan’s brow furrows, and his response is exactly as I anticipated.
Aidan wraps his calloused hand around my neck and pulls my forehead to his.
“I will be here every step of the way, Nash. Every. Single. Step. For you, and for Nancy. She’s family now.
” I pull away, and we do some very masculine back slapping and clearing of throats as we try to pull ourselves together.
I can’t help but glance over at where Corey and Rain are huddled together on the love seat. He catches my eye and smiles wide, something decidedly like pride on his face.
I take a deep breath and sigh. I’m not sure I can be just friends with this man. But I want to try. If nothing else, I want to have his sunshine and optimism in my life, and I want to be a support for him in whatever way he’ll let me. And then maybe in the future…
I’m so fucked.
It doesn’t take long for the chatter to gain momentum as everyone starts making excited plans for Nancy’s arrival.
“Oh shit!” I exclaim, making everyone jump and turn to look at me. “I hope nobody has plans for next week. I’m going to need some help decorating her room. And I have a shitload of flat-pack furniture that needs building.”
I look over at my parents and my brothers, panic no doubt painted on my face. “Help!” I let out a highly undignified squeak that is entirely out of character, and blink wildly as my family all laugh affectionately at me.
I know why they’re laughing – because I didn’t even need to ask. They’ll all be with me, every step of the way, just like Aidan said. And maybe, just maybe, Corey will be there to take a few steps with me, too.
If I can fix what I broke the other day, that is.
***
I wake up on Boxing Day, my head only mildly foggy from the few drinks I had yesterday and the lack of sleep from excitement and anticipation. Today’s the day I’m going to meet my daughter. Jesus Christ. This day feels like it’s been a long time coming.
I get up, shower, and go through the motions of making toast and scraping it with butter and Marmite.
My brothers and sister all tell me I’m disgusting for enjoying the savoury topping, but they will all eat their words when their teeth fall out from all the sugar in their far-too-sweet Nutella and blackcurrant jam.
The thought occurs to me that Nancy will likely prefer sweet things right now, given her young age, and I make a note on my magnetic shopping list that I have stuck to the front of the fridge, to get a selection of options when I go to the supermarket.
I add a variety of different cereals as well, since I don’t yet know what she’ll like.
My list of things to do seems to be getting longer and longer. Yesterday, my family were all keen to help however they could, so I text the family group chat and ask for everyone to come over tomorrow to help me get the house ready.
Archer: We’ll be there. Cole and I call flat-pack furniture assembly.
Cole: Yes! I’ll bring my massive tool (box).
Wren: FFS Cole
Me: Can we refrain from sexual innuendo jokes around my daughter’s possessions please? Thank you very much.
Cole: Eww. OK yeah, fair. We’ll get the bedroom furniture all put together.
Mum: I don’t understand where I dragged you lot up from sometimes, I really don’t.
Dad: You did a fabulous job, darling. They didn’t become feral animals until after they moved out.
Mum: (heart emoji) Nash, I’ll sort out bed linens and get some clothes and stuff. Can you text me later with what size she’s wearing? Kids are all so different, the age ranges on clothes don’t really help. The foster parents should be able to tell you.
Mum: Oh! And her shoe size darling, please.
Me: Will do, thanks Mum. And thanks guys too, I appreciate it.
Rain: Hi Nash. We’ll come and help out with whatever we can. Corey asked if her room needs painting at all?
Me: Thanks Rain. The room’s a blank canvas at the moment. The plasterer refinished it and then I painted it plain white. If Corey thinks he can make it look better for a 4-year-old girl, I’d be grateful.
The thought of Corey making his mark on my daughter’s room makes me happy.
I look at the sketch of my house he gifted me yesterday.
The way he’s captured the beauty of the house in summer, when he’s never seen it, is remarkable, but there’s also such a sense of hope in the image.
The way the light highlights the plants, the way the windows seem to glow with warmth, the way the front door is ever so slightly ajar, as though welcoming you inside.
If he can manage to make Nancy’s bedroom anywhere near as welcoming, she’ll be a very lucky little girl.
I take a deep breath, clearing my head of thoughts of Corey, and allowing myself to focus on the meeting that will change my life, and hopefully Nancy’s life, for the better in…
Oh shit. Two hours. Fuck, the reality is terrifying.
I jump up from the stool at the kitchen island and rush to get myself sorted and ready to go.
I pick up the small stuffed seal I bought when I was in Norwich last week, in preparation for this moment.
Corey has been so enamoured by the animals that I thought of him as soon as I saw it in the shop window, assuming any child would enjoy it.
Now, knowing the child is Nancy, it feels as though the universe may well have been guiding me.
I don’t recognise myself in that train of thought.
Whimsy, kismet, and ideas of fate and destiny have never in my life been something I pinned meaning to.
But, as I read Nancy’s file, and even making the choice to purchase that particular stuffed animal, I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’ve been missing out on the bigger picture.
Or maybe Corey’s optimism is rubbing off on you.
Popping the toy in a small gift bag and patting down my pockets to make sure I have my wallet and phone, I grab my keys and head outside and climb into my new car.
It was delivered last week, and I was right in thinking Aidan would have something to say.
He spent the first twenty minutes after I arrived at Mum and Dad’s yesterday giving me shit.
The twists and turns of the small roads through Fenside Common are familiar to me, and so my progress is as swift as it can be, but once I reach the dual carriageway, I’m not ashamed to say I almost burn rubber in my haste to get there.
I’m meeting Nancy at her foster home, as recommended in her transition to adoption plan.
I’m normally a stickler for speed limits, but I refuse to be late.
Thankfully, with it being Boxing Day, the roads are decidedly more quiet than they might otherwise be, and I make it with almost fifteen minutes to spare.
At eleven o’clock on the dot, I hop out of my car and make my way to the bright yellow front door. The cheerfulness of it makes me smile. I spot Abigail through the glass in the door, and breathe out a deep breath before she pulls the door open.
“Nash, hi,” Abigail says cheerfully, as she moves to the side, allowing me entry to the Victorian terraced house.
“Hi, how are you?” I enquire, shaking her hand. Abigail has a firm handshake in stark contrast to my shaking hands. She smiles understandingly at me.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Nash. She’s very excited to meet you.
” My stomach flips at those words, and I feel a telltale burning in the back of my eyes.
“Let’s grab a coffee, you’ll meet her foster parents, and I’ll give you some guidance on how to approach today and let you know about next steps. ”
We make our way through the entrance hall and into a spacious kitchen-diner at the back of the house.
A surprisingly young couple stand from their seats at the dining table and make their way over to us, both smiling at me as they approach.
“Hi, Nash,” Caitlin says, a warm smile on her face as she grasps my proffered hand in both of hers, warmly.
“Big day?” Drew acknowledges, giving me a firm handshake once his wife moves aside. “How’re you doing?”
I blow out breath, pursing my lips, and we all laugh.
“Let me make us all a coffee, and we can chat,” Caitlin says.
“What would you like, Nash? I have this fancy coffee machine here. I’m a bit of a coffee snob, I’m afraid,” she whispers conspiratorially.
“That’s what two years working in a café in Rome will do to you, so I can make you literally anything.
” She smiles at me expectantly. I return the gesture, some of my nerves dissipating in her calming presence.
“Just a black Americano would be wonderful, please,” I say.
The next half an hour or so is spent getting all the details I need to know.
Nancy wears age 2-3 clothes, loves Coco Pops cereal, any fruit she can get her hands on, and will eat anything if it comes with cheese.
Same, kid. Same. She loves drawing and colouring, Barbies, cutting up paper and sticking it down to make pictures, and Bluey.
What the fuck is Bluey? I make yet another note of something to research.
Abigail moves the discussion on after a while, as she details the transition plan.
“We’ll have a mid-way review as we go,” Abigail explains, “but I have to be honest with you, Nash. This process is fast and can sometimes feel a bit overwhelming. Just talk to me if you need anything throughout, and obviously, you have your parents and Wren—”
“I told my brothers yesterday, so I have the whole extended family on hand for support. Don’t worry. I’m excited to bring her home as soon as she’s ready.”