Axel is quiet for a moment, shifting his position on the couch. “Did you know that before I got my diagnosis and started losing my eyesight, I was supposed to start learning how to drive? Now I’ll never be able to do that.”
I shake my head. “No, you won’t be able to drive. And that’s rough, man. I know it is. But you’ll still be able to get around. My brother has a guide dog. His name is Nitro, and he’s awesome. And there are other options for keeping you mobile, too. You’re going to be just fine.”
A hopeful expression crosses Paul’s face for the first time. “Do you really think so, Axel?”
“Not a doubt in my mind, kid. Now, you ready to get started, or we gonna sit here and shoot the shit all day?”
Paul grins. “Let’s get to work.”
5
Brantley
Welcome to Fort Lauderdale.
I glance at the sign as I drive past it again this morning, my heartbeat automatically beginning to pound in my chest like a caged bird attempting to escape its bars.
It happens every time I come back here, which isn’t very often. I don’t return to Florida unless it’s necessary, and for a very specific reason. Last night, it was necessary.
This morning, I quickly duck out of my motel room. Heading for the address Nadia McBride texted me yesterday evening, I gaze around sunny Fort Lauderdale as I drive. It doesn’t escape me, how the ritzier areas of Florida seem to sparkle like diamonds while the seedier underbellies appear even dirtier under all this sunshine.
Fort Lauderdale definitely shines. Palm trees, miles of pristine beaches, opulent homes and condominiums. Glitz and glamour everywhere the eye falls. The office park where Nadia McBride, Esquire, keeps her office is tucked away in a quiet niche just off an oceanside parkway. I’m seated across from Nadia in her spacious office within moments of my arrival.
“I’m so sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances.” There’s a slight European lilt to her voice, maybe a Russian accent. She does seem truly sad at the loss of Ethan and Evelyn Hall.
“Were you their lawyer for very long?” I ask, clasping my hands in my lap.
Nadia tucks a strand of her sleek dark chocolate hair behind one ear, shuffling paperwork on her desk. “For a little over five years now. I’m very familiar with the couple’s wishes following their untimely death. I’m just so sorry when something like this happens, and I have to follow through on someone’s will. I’m aware of your relationship with your biological daughter, Eden. Because the Halls didn’t have any other family close to them, they have left Eden in your care in the case of their death. Is this something you agree to?”
My hands are trembling when I lift them to my eyes to wipe them. “Yes, of course. Eden is…I want her. Of course I do.”
Nadia eyes me with understanding and concern. “All right then. I’ve already drawn up the paperwork. You just need to sign.”
For the next twenty minutes, I sign a large stack of paperwork that enables me to become the legal guardian of the girl I carried for nine months. The entire time I’m wondering what she must be going through. When I’m finished, I look at Nadia.
“Where’s Eden now?”
Nadia stands. “I’ll go with you to pick her up. She’s been placed in temporary foster care, just until you arrived to pick her up. She knows you’re coming.”
We leave Nadia’s office and I follow her Jaguar to another Lauderdale neighborhood. She pulls up to a condo building and I hop out of my car and lean against the driver’s side door.
My entire body revolts against me; I’m in danger of succumbing to the jitters overtaking my stomach, and my legs don’t know whether to tense up or wobble uncontrollably. I fold my arms across my chest, and then unfold them, letting them hang loosely at my sides.
What’s she going to say when she sees me? Will she even want me here? Will she be angry at the whole world?
Ethan and Evelyn have been honest with Eden her entire life. They’ve kept an open line of communication with me, allowing me to visit at least twice a year. She knows that I’m her birth mom, and I’ve explained to her what my life was like when I became pregnant with her as a teenager. The reasons I felt placing her for adoption was in her best interests, but that I have always loved her.
And it’s true. My love for Eden is a fierce, living and breathing thing inside me. When you pass another soul from your body out into the world, it forges a bond so relentless it can never be broken. And Eden and I have that. But I’m not her mom. Evelyn is.
Was.
Evelyn was her mom.
I’m going to have to step into the role I gave up thirteen years ago, and I’m not sure if I’m ready. It doesn’t matter now. I’m going to be ready, whether I think I am or not.
Eden needs me now.
“I’ll run up and get her. I should just be a few minutes.” Nadia offers me a quick, reassuring smile, and then she disappears into the condo building, leaving me standing out in the hot Florida sunshine.
Instead of allowing my nerves to eat me alive, I start to pace, shaking off the tension building inside my body and talking to myself. Positive self-talk is something I learned to do years ago. If you don’t love yourself, no one else is going to. So I do, using words of affirmation and aiming them inward:
You’ve got this, Brantley. Everything is going to be okay. Eden is going through the toughest time in her life, and you have to be there to guide her through it. Who knows about tough times better than you? No one. That’s right. You’re going to be there for her, and it’s just the two of you against the world now. Two bad-ass girls about to kill it. You’ve got this. And so does she.
By the time I’ve paced the length of the entire building five times, the click-clack of Nadia’s designer stilettos reaches my ears. I turn, and she’s walking toward me, her white suit glistening in the sunlight. Beside her, a floral rolling suitcase in one hand, is Eden.
My daughter.
Eden’s hair, the same chestnut color as mine, hangs to her waist in thick rolling waves. Deep dimples reside in her cheeks, the kind that don’t require a smile to make an appearance. There’s a tiny, pert nose lying above full lips. The same full, wide mouth I see when I look in the mirror each day. Her eyes, though, those aren’t the same as mine. Big, green, and full of emotion. Those belong to her father. Right now, they’re blinking up at me with sadness: pure, heartbroken, grief.
Everything around me seems to stop when I lay eyes on her. The heat stills, the mosquitoes buzzing in the air and the birds chirping in the trees go quiet. I take one step toward her, and she drops the handle of her suitcase and breaks into a run.
Opening my arms, I wait for her to reach me, and her whole little body slams into mine, her petite frame folding right into my arms like a puzzle piece fitting solidly into its slot. A whimper escapes her when she buries her face into my chest, and emotion clogs my own throat.
“Oh, baby,” I whisper into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
She melts then, crumpling in on herself like a broken bird. Tucking her under my arm, I level a gaze at Nadia. “Thank you. What do we have left to do here? I need to get her somewhere quiet.”