of happy kids and families, bookshelves lined
with every book on child psychology and adoption ever written. There was even a
basket full of stuffed animals and toys in one corner.
But
she didn't feel the least bit comfortable. She felt as if she were being
pricked by a thousand pins and needles. And she felt like a failure and a
quitter. Logically, she understood that adoption was a good, sound decision. A loving decision. But logic and emotion didn't always
agree.
The
counselor, Carnie Winchester, rose and immediately came out from behind her desk
to greet Nicole and Kendall. Carnie was medium height, had shoulder-length red
wavy hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion. Hip-hugger jeans, a fitted
T-shirt, and a collection of beaded bracelets on her left wrist gave her a
Bohemian look. Everything about Carnie belied Nicole's image of an adoption
counselor. For some reason, she'd expected a matronly woman, not a woman so
close to her own age.
"Nicole,"
Carnie said as she extended her hand. Her voice was soft and soothing. "It's a
pleasure to meet you."
Nicole
took her hand. "Thank you. Wow. I didn't realize you were so young."
Carnie
smiled. "I'm sorry I'm so casually dressed but I've got my teens' support group
meeting tonight and don't have time to go home and change. We'll be playing
dodgeball."
Nicole
could picture Carnie with the kids and bet she was good with them. "No problem.
I'd like you to meet my friend Kendall Shaw."
Kendall
put out her hand. She looked positively regal and very out of place here. "It's
nice to meet you."
Carnie
didn't hide her surprise when she met Kendall's gaze head-on. "I watch you
every night. You're great."
"Thank
you," Kendall said.
"You've
really added some life and glamour to the station."
"Thank
you." Kendall accepted the compliment with ease. She was never arrogant, always
gracious. She reminded Nicole of a queen.
Kendall
lifted a brow. "May we sit?"
That
was something else about Kendall that Nicole admired. She had a way of
politely, but definitively, directing the people around her.
"Of
course," Carnie said.
Nicole
and Kendall settled on the couch and Carnie sat across from them in an
overstuffed chair, tucking one of her legs under her.
Kendall,
looking so smooth and sleek, crossed her legs. Nicole struggled to get
comfortable. The baby had chosen this moment to sit on her bladder and her
swollen feet felt as if they were overflowing her shoes. When she did finally
get comfortable, she suddenly found that she was at a loss for words. What did
a woman say when she was considering giving away her own flesh and blood?
Nicole
glanced to Kendall trying to convey her sudden panic.
Kendall
seemed to sense all this and without betraying any of Nicole's worries turned
to Carnie. "This is a very stressful situation for Nicole, as you must know."
Carnie's
gaze was soft. Bracelets jangled softly as she leaned forward and touched
Nicole's arm. "I don't want you to worry or feel any kind of pressure. We are
here today just to talk."
Nicole
managed a weak smile and didn't feel so boxed into a corner. "I know."
"I
haven't relinquished a child, but I was adopted, so I have a personal
connection to the process."
Kendall
shifted, but her expression didn't show any emotion.
Nicole
swallowed. "You were? Do you ever see your mother--your birth mother?"
"I
haven't found her yet. I've become something of an expert on searches, but no
luck with my mother yet. My adoption wasn't exactly black market but very
gray." She seemed relaxed, as if she'd told this story a thousand times before.
"My murky roots are why I'm so committed to open adoption."
The
tightness in Nicole's throat didn't vanish but it eased. "Do you know anything
about her?"
"Only
that she was young when she had me. My associate, Debra Weston, couldn't be
here today because her youngest is in the winter play at his elementary school.
But Debra gave up a child when she was in college. She'd be the first to tell
you that
with every book on child psychology and adoption ever written. There was even a
basket full of stuffed animals and toys in one corner.
But
she didn't feel the least bit comfortable. She felt as if she were being
pricked by a thousand pins and needles. And she felt like a failure and a
quitter. Logically, she understood that adoption was a good, sound decision. A loving decision. But logic and emotion didn't always
agree.
The
counselor, Carnie Winchester, rose and immediately came out from behind her desk
to greet Nicole and Kendall. Carnie was medium height, had shoulder-length red
wavy hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion. Hip-hugger jeans, a fitted
T-shirt, and a collection of beaded bracelets on her left wrist gave her a
Bohemian look. Everything about Carnie belied Nicole's image of an adoption
counselor. For some reason, she'd expected a matronly woman, not a woman so
close to her own age.
"Nicole,"
Carnie said as she extended her hand. Her voice was soft and soothing. "It's a
pleasure to meet you."
Nicole
took her hand. "Thank you. Wow. I didn't realize you were so young."
Carnie
smiled. "I'm sorry I'm so casually dressed but I've got my teens' support group
meeting tonight and don't have time to go home and change. We'll be playing
dodgeball."
Nicole
could picture Carnie with the kids and bet she was good with them. "No problem.
I'd like you to meet my friend Kendall Shaw."
Kendall
put out her hand. She looked positively regal and very out of place here. "It's
nice to meet you."
Carnie
didn't hide her surprise when she met Kendall's gaze head-on. "I watch you
every night. You're great."
"Thank
you," Kendall said.
"You've
really added some life and glamour to the station."
"Thank
you." Kendall accepted the compliment with ease. She was never arrogant, always
gracious. She reminded Nicole of a queen.
Kendall
lifted a brow. "May we sit?"
That
was something else about Kendall that Nicole admired. She had a way of
politely, but definitively, directing the people around her.
"Of
course," Carnie said.
Nicole
and Kendall settled on the couch and Carnie sat across from them in an
overstuffed chair, tucking one of her legs under her.
Kendall,
looking so smooth and sleek, crossed her legs. Nicole struggled to get
comfortable. The baby had chosen this moment to sit on her bladder and her
swollen feet felt as if they were overflowing her shoes. When she did finally
get comfortable, she suddenly found that she was at a loss for words. What did
a woman say when she was considering giving away her own flesh and blood?
Nicole
glanced to Kendall trying to convey her sudden panic.
Kendall
seemed to sense all this and without betraying any of Nicole's worries turned
to Carnie. "This is a very stressful situation for Nicole, as you must know."
Carnie's
gaze was soft. Bracelets jangled softly as she leaned forward and touched
Nicole's arm. "I don't want you to worry or feel any kind of pressure. We are
here today just to talk."
Nicole
managed a weak smile and didn't feel so boxed into a corner. "I know."
"I
haven't relinquished a child, but I was adopted, so I have a personal
connection to the process."
Kendall
shifted, but her expression didn't show any emotion.
Nicole
swallowed. "You were? Do you ever see your mother--your birth mother?"
"I
haven't found her yet. I've become something of an expert on searches, but no
luck with my mother yet. My adoption wasn't exactly black market but very
gray." She seemed relaxed, as if she'd told this story a thousand times before.
"My murky roots are why I'm so committed to open adoption."
The
tightness in Nicole's throat didn't vanish but it eased. "Do you know anything
about her?"
"Only
that she was young when she had me. My associate, Debra Weston, couldn't be
here today because her youngest is in the winter play at his elementary school.
But Debra gave up a child when she was in college. She'd be the first to tell
you that
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