Dear Life

  Growing up in the foster care system, I’m aware of what it’s like to not have present parents, to not be able to come home to loving arms. I’m familiar with the broken feeling to not have someone cheering you on, to not have someone at every school function, and to not have anyone to watch you grow into the human you’re supposed to be.

  I didn’t want that hardship for my daughter.

  With my schedule, my profession, I wouldn’t be able to give her what she needs. Sure, I could throw money at a nanny to raise my daughter while I’m on the road, but what kind of life is that for her? It’s not a life at all. I would be a selfish prick to keep her, to only offer half the parent she deserves, never truly being there.

  So, I searched for two people who would be able to give my daughter the life she deserves. I met June and Alex through an adoption agency and immediately fell in love with their story, their family, their life. They’ve been trying to adopt for three years, with two failed adoptions under their belt, they weren’t sure if they really wanted to continue, but they decided to give it one last shot. That’s when I found their profile.

  What’s better than one mom? Two. It was the one quote I remember from their personalized letter to me. It stuck with me, that and the picture of Alex and June at a Colorado Miners game, wearing Jace Barnes shirts. I might have been a little partial.

  The first time we met, they had no idea I was the man fulfilling their unanswered prayers. Initially it was shock, but once that wore off, we sat down and chatted like old friends. I learned about how they first met, a beautifully funny story about working together at an ice cream parlor. I saw pictures of their three cats and two dogs that they jokingly referred to as their farm. And I learned about their struggle through the adoption process, hearing about the prejudice they had to face being a female same-sex couple trying to adopt. It broke me in half and I vowed to them that day, their search was over. That they could rest easy and start stocking up on diapers, because their little girl will be coming shortly.

  We parted with long, thankful hugs, an appreciation for both sides of this adoption, knowing that bringing a child into this world is a huge responsibility and that all three of us will do the best we can to give her everything she needs.

  Through watery eyes, June looks up at me, her gratefulness beaming from her. “She’s absolutely beautiful, Jace.”

  “She’s perfect,” Alex speaks up, being more of the silent one in the relationship, a small tear streaming down her cheek.

  “Thank you,” I answer awkwardly, not really sure how to respond. “Uh, did Tracy give you all the paperwork?”

  Alex nods, still looking down at the baby. “We are all set and we’ve been through the discharge process as well with the doctor.”

  “So she’s ready,” I say, my throat clogging up again.

  Alex meets my eyes and nods somberly. “She’s ready.”

  “Well, you should get her changed. You brought an outfit, right?”

  “We did.” June hands the baby to Alex and then goes into the hallway where she brings in a car seat and a grey diaper bag that’s overflowing with newborn items. She looks a little awkward carrying everything, but then again, so would I.

  “Good.” I pull on the back of my neck, trying to not lose it, despite the anvil of pain weighing heavily on my chest. “Did you finally come up with a name?”

  When we initially met, I asked them if they had some names in mind and they weren’t really set on anything. Before we left, Alex pulled me to the side and said that they were holding off on a name, in case I changed my mind. She said it would be too devastating on June to once again, name a baby she wasn’t able to call her own.

  I swore to Alex that day, that June would finally get her baby, and nothing was going to stand in her way.

  And nothing has.

  The paperwork is complete, June is finally a mommy. Fuck, just thinking about giving this woman such a precious gift has me feeling unsteady and wobbly.

  “We did come up with a name,” Alex replies, a sincere smile to her eyes.

  Clearing my throat, I ask, “What did you decide to name her?”

  Pulling her attention away from the baby, June exudes motherhood in that one, shy smile directed at me. “We decided to name her Hope, because you gave us hope, Jace.” Alex wraps her arm around June, and I take in the most beautiful family standing before me. “You took a dreary and arduous journey and turned it into something of hope. You’ve given us something we could never repay you for.”

  I nod because my throat is too damn tight to respond. We stand there in silence for a moment before I clear my throat and say, “It’s perfect. And, you don’t need to repay me, just . . .” I take a deep breath, “just keep me updated, send me pictures, come to my games. Please just let her know who her birth father is, let her know that I . . . love her.”

  That’s all I want, for her to know me, and the decision I made for her. The hardest fucking decision of my life.

  “You will always be a part of her life, Jace, there is no changing that.”

  Feeling uncomfortable, I stick my hands in my pockets and stand there awkwardly. Do I leave? Do I watch them dress her? Do I get to say one last goodbye before she starts a new journey? Will they let me?

  “Jace,” June cuts in, “would you help us get her ready to leave?”

  “Sure.” I smile tightly, not wanting to show too much emotion.

  “Here,” June hands me the diaper bag, “there are a few outfits in there, pick one out. I’ll start to get her undressed so you can dress her.”

  I spend the next few minutes picking out a flowery dress with matching hair bow and ballet shoe-looking socks. June and Alex lay her on the bed, on top of a pink knitted blanket Alex’s mother made. Hope squirms and quietly grunts as I weave her tiny arms through the dress, her eyes never opening, not once. I just want one peek. Just one chance to make a connection with her. I know she won’t remember, but I will. I want her to see me, not just hear me.

  Once I have her dress situated, I put on her socks that are entirely too big for her thin legs, and then I gingerly brush her hair to the side and place the headband gently over her forehead like June directs. When she’s fully dressed, I’m unable to remove my eyes from the beauty below me. Enveloped by the knitted blanket, she looks like an angel, a dream, a true blessing. Together, June, Alex, and I hold each other, one lady on either side of me and we cry together, marveling at the baby below us. How could Rebecca give her away?

  Funny, how such a little human can bring three people together. I will forever share this bond with June and Alex, it can never be taken away from us. Until the day I die, I will remember this moment, where three adults formed an unyielding agreement that no matter what happens, we will always put Hope first.

  “I guess you should be going,” I suggest. “Can I just hold her one last time?”

  “Of course,” Alex says, stepping in and picking up Hope. Carefully, she hands her over to me, the weight of her so light in my arms.

  Turning my back for some privacy, I gaze down at Hope, her name so fitting. “Hey, baby girl.” My voice cracks with each word, my heart breaking with each second that brings our time to an end. “I want you to know you are one blessed little girl, having two moms who want you, who prayed for you, who did everything in their power to finally be matched with you. You weren’t a surprise to them, an inconvenience, or a calculated risk. You were sought after, dreamt for, begged for. You are everything they have ever wanted, which only means one thing. Your home, the one you’ll grow up in, will always be filled with joy, with warmth, and with love, everything you deserve.” Tears fall onto her dress and I try to wipe them away, not wanting to soak her. “I love you, Hope. Don’t ever forget that I didn’t give you up because I didn’t want you, but that I placed you with a family who will be able to give you more than I ever will.” Turning around, I see June holding up her camera, taking pictures, and I’m grateful for her capturing these last moments I ha
ve with Hope. Taking a deep breath, I glance down at her one last time just as her eyes start to open, her tiny peepers popping open for a brief second, cutting me in half. They are glazed over with sleep but I take this moment, I take it like a greedy fucking bastard and savor it.

  Eye contact.

  Inwardly, I speak to her, begging her to remember me, to know me, to believe me when I say I love her.

  Bringing her up to my lips, I place a kiss on her forehead, breathing in her baby scent one last time and then with a heavy heart, a broken and shattered resolve, I place Hope in Alex and June’s waiting hands. Tears cloud my vision, despair clogs my heart.

  I nod, unsure I can say anything else to these two compassionate women, and head for the door just when June stops me. Alex is putting Hope in the car seat when June envelops me in a hug. Standing on her toes, she speaks softly and emotionally into my ear.

  “She will always know of your selflessness, she will always know of your sacrifice, and she will always know of your love, of the day you made the hardest decision of your life. Trust me when I say she will emulate every selfless aspect of you, Jace.” Squeezing me, she places a kiss on my cheek and then looks me directly me in the eyes, her soft hands gripping my face. “You filled a hole in my heart that’s been empty for quite some time. You gave us a baby, Jace. I will never be able to show you how truly grateful I am, all I can do is love that little girl to the best of my ability. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  And just like that, I’m fucking ruined.

  DAISY

  “Can I help with anything?” I ask, watching my half-sister, Amanda tend to her famous spaghetti sauce over the stove.

  “Do you want to set the table? Matt should be home soon.”

  “Not a problem.” I jump off the stool at the kitchen bar and walk over to the little four-person dining room table in the open-concept living space. Knowing Amanda likes place mats, something I learned the first day I moved into their townhome only six days ago, I reach into the buffet table that rests against the wall and fish out the pretty purple and green paisley print placemats. “Uh, does Matt usually work this late?” It’s still awkward, trying to think of conversation with my half-sister since we haven’t spent much time with each other.

  “No, not really. During baseball season, he works a little longer than normal, but since it’s off-season he gets home pretty early. He called earlier and said he had to go down to the hospital to be with one of his players.”

  “Oh no, I hope everything is okay.”

  “Me too.” She gives the sauce a few more stirs before reaching into the cabinet above her and pulling out plates for me to set on the table. “Did you talk to your grandma today?”

  “I did.” I swallow hard, her words of wisdom on constant replay in my head.

  You need to start living.

  You need to enjoy this time with your sister.

  You need to get a job.

  You need to meet people.

  You need to put yourself out there.

  “How is she doing?”

  “Good.” I take the plates and set them on the table. Walking over to the silverware drawer I continue, “She’s been making some progress in moving her left hand but that’s pretty much all she can do for now. It’s going to be a very long road for recovery.”

  “But cognitively, she’s sounding good?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, setting out the silverware. “Hey, I know I’ve said it a few times, but I really want to thank you and Matt for taking me in. With Gram’s hospital bills and now all her money going to her senior living . . . Well, I really appreciate it.”

  Amanda walks over to me, a warm smile on her face. She envelops me into a hug and says, “Anything for my sis. We’re blood. I’m just glad we have this time to get to know each other better.”

  “Me too. But I do feel bad at times. I feel like I’m intruding on your new engagement.”

  “You’re fine, don’t even worry about it. Matt and I have been together for far too long, you’re not interrupting anything.” She pulls away and looks me in the eyes. “I do want to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay,” I reply suspiciously, not sure what she wants to talk about.

  “I’ve been thinking about our conversation we had last night, how this is an opportunity for you to step out of your comfort zone and really experience life.”

  “Yeah.” It’s true. Even though I’m terrified, this might be a golden opportunity to reinvent myself, to really break out of my shell.

  “I agree.” Excitingly fidgeting she continues, “My friend, Hollyn, is starting this program next week. It’s called Dear Life and it’s designed to help you face what’s holding you back in life, break free, and move forward. To let go of your past, perceived faults, failures, shortcomings, losses, and learn how to live again. I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It might be something kind of great for you. Here, let me pull up the website.”

  Amanda flips open her iPad and starts typing away in the browser, meanwhile, two words hit me hard.

  Break free.

  By no means did my grams hold me back. She provided for me, educated me, and gave me a beautiful life, but there is so much more out there. I’ve already found that out in the few days I’ve been staying with Amanda.

  For one, there is love. Real love. Not movie love which I’ve consumed my entire life. But real-life love where two individuals come together and share each other’s passions, their faults, and their accomplishments.

  I want that.

  There is an entire world I never knew existed outside the little five-block radius I previously called home. There is food I want to try, places I want to see, people I want to meet, but getting out there, breaking free, I have no clue how to do it.

  “Here.” Amanda hands me her tablet and goes back to stirring the sauce.

  I look at the website with its vivid colors and lively pictures of people laughing and smiling. What would it feel like to be one of those people? To have friends? Comradery with others.

  “I don’t know,” I say nervously. “It looks like it’s for people who might be going through a tough time.”

  “It’s for everyone,” Amanda states soothingly. “Anyone can join who wants to make a change.”

  “But what about a job? I don’t have any money. I can’t mooch off you forever.”

  “I don’t want that either.” Amanda turns around and hands me an envelope that was on the counter. “You were supposed to get this three weeks ago when you turned twenty-one.”

  Flipping the envelope, I questioningly glance at Amanda. “What is this?”

  “Open it up.” She nods at the envelope, not giving me any clue.

  I take no time finding out and tear the envelope open to find a check resting inside with my name on it for fifty thousand dollars. Eyes wide, mouth open, I ask, “What is this?”

  “I got one too when I turned twenty-one. Apparently the father we share thought it would be fitting to invest in us when we were young.”

  “This is mine? All of it?”

  “All yours, sweetie.”

  “But, I’ve never had money before,” I say in disbelief. Amanda chuckles as the door to their townhome opens.

  “Looks like we need to open a bank account then.”

  “I guess so.” I sit on the kitchen bar stool staring at my check when Matt walks into the kitchen, his tie loosened from around his neck, and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up.

  “That was a fun day,” Matt says with a sarcastic sigh, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a small drink container full of milk. From above the fridge, he grabs a giant tub of protein mix and starts scooping powder into his milk.

  “Hey, we are going to eat soon,” Amanda chastises.

  “Don’t worry, honey, I plan on eating too. I have about fifteen hundred calories I still have to consume.”

  Matt has been trying to bulk up before the wedding. His plan is to pack on muscle and we
ight and then to shred two months before the wedding. Amanda thinks it’s ridiculous since he’s built like Zac Efron, and therefore meant to have a smaller frame. Now that I think about it, he looks like Zac Efron too, a man I’ve recently become familiar with thanks to the wonderful world of Google.

  Still reeling about the check in my hand and the opportunity to maybe join a program to help me explore, I ask Matt, “Not a good day?”

  “No,” he shakes his head. “Too much heavy shit for me.”

  Clearing her throat, Amanda asks, “Everything okay with, um, your player?”

  “No,” Matt shakes his head. “But I talked with the Hal, the General Manager, and the um, player,” Matt glances over at me, trying to be discreet, “he’s going to start that Dear Life program. He’s spent some time thinking about it ever since he made his decision, and we all agree it might be good for him. The front office is willing to accommodate any schedule the program brings. We just want him mentally healthy.”

  “The Dear Life program?” I ask, barging in on the conversation. “I think I’m going to join it as well.”

  “Really?” Matt asks, looking slightly confused.

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “I mean, I want a fresh start.”

  “I suggested it to her,” Amanda cuts in. “Hollyn is going to do it as well.”

  “Are you some kind of secret marketing guru for them?” Matt laughs.

  Turning the stove off, Amanda shakes her head. “No, I’ve just heard great things about it, okay?” Her tone makes me believe that maybe she might have taken the course herself. I hate that I don’t know my half-sister well enough to read her. That will be rectified.

  Glancing down at the tablet, I read more about the program. It’s all about writing letters, expressing your feelings, really putting yourself out there, exposing your inner demons and getting raw with the idea of facing your fears.

  This might be exactly what I need. At least I hope it is because right now, I know nothing of this world other than what my grams has told me.