The Good Daughter by Jane Porter Page A

myself.”
    “I know that. You’re just talking things through. And that’s good. You need to think things through before rushing into adoption—”
    “Why are you so against adoption?”
    “I’m not against adoption. I think it’s wonderful for couples who want to have children, but I don’t think it’s the right thing for singles—”
    “Are you serious?”
    Polly nodded somberly. “I grew up with a single mom. It was hard. And she was a dedicated mom, but it was a struggle.”
    The kitchen door swung open and Fiona stuck her head around the corner. She was smiling so broadly that her dimples were showing. “Can I come in? Or am I interrupting?”
    “Come in,” Kit said, pushing away from the counter, glad for Fiona’s arrival. The last thing she wanted was to continue this adoption discussion with Polly. Polly had a valid opinion, and Kit wasn’t discounting her experience, but there were a lot of single moms in the world who were doing a great job.
    Fiona checked her smile as she entered the small kitchen. “You don’t look very happy,” she said, cautiously glancing from one to the other.
    “But you do,” Kit said. “Did you finally talk to Chase?”
    Fiona nodded, her smile returning. “They’re coming home early. There isn’t much snow and he says he’s missing me. I’m going to meet him at the house at noon and we’re going to have a date.”
    Kit hugged her. “That’s great news!”
    “Glad he got smart,” Polly added.
    Fiona’s forehead creased. “So what’s going on in here? Didn’t sound very good.”
    Kit shrugged. “We’re just having a difference of opinion.”
    Fiona looked from Kit to Fiona. “About what?”
    “Kit adopting,” Polly said bluntly.
    “What?”
Fiona turned to Kit.
    “That was my reaction as well,” Polly said.
    Kit was livid with Polly for dropping the news on Fiona like that. “It’s no one’s business but mine,” she said, folding her arms tightly over her chest.
    Fiona’s nose crinkled, her expression worried. “I think now’s an excellent time for a glass of wine. I saw a bottle of chardonnay in the fridge. Shall I open it?”
    Wine poured, they settled in the small living room, Polly and Fiona on the couch and Kit in the rattan chair that had been hers all weekend. Polly stretched her feet out onto the coffee table and focused on the toes of her shoes. Fiona moved the cushions around her, trying to get comfortable. Kit just stared down into her wineglass.
    “Don’t be mad, Kit,” Fiona said finally, breaking the silence.
    Kit couldn’t immediately speak, too busy wrestling with what she wanted to say and what she shouldn’t say. She didn’t want to fight with her best friends. But at the same time some things were private. Personal. “It wasn’t Polly’s place to tell you that I’m thinking about adoption,” she said at last. “I’m only in the early stages and it’s all still very new to me. No one but the two of you know, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
    “I won’t say anything to anyone,” Fiona promised.
    “Me either,” Polly said, meeting Kit’s gaze, “but I wouldn’t be a real friend if I didn’t tell you I’m concerned, and that I don’t think it’s a good idea. At least not yet.”
    “Not yet?” Kit echoed.
    Polly reached for the bottle on the table and topped off her and Fiona’s glasses. “I know you want a family, Kit, but this isn’t the way to go about it, and I can’t help but think your family wouldn’t be happy.”
    “At least not your mum and dad,” Fiona said. “They might be Americans but they’re very Irish. They want you to be a mum, but they’ll want it done properly. You know, a man, church wedding, all of that.”
    Kit set her wine down untouched. There was no way she could drink when she was so upset. “But there’s not going to be a man or a church wedding—”
    “Not if you’re off adopting kids like Angelina Jolie!” Polly interrupted. “Most men aren’t