"Are you ready?"
"Not really."
"Nervous?"
"Doesn't begin to cover it."
Joe moved his right hand off the steering wheel to give Natalie's a squeeze. They sat in the parking lot of a community center, the large building looming in front of them.
"Do you still want to do this?" Joe asked.
"Of course I do." Natalie was digging around in her purse for her lip gloss. "I just wonder if we are crazy."
"Why?"
"Is any kid really going to want old parents like us?"
Joe chuckled. "We're not that old. Besides, a lot of these kids have probably been let down by young parents. They might not mind a couple of geezers like us."
Natalie didn't respond, instead focusing on glossing her lips in the passenger vanity mirror.
Months earlier, an unplanned pregnancy had taken them by surprise only to end a couple of weeks later. After considering Natalie's age and health history, the doctor had advised against them trying again. The loss devastated both of them, but especially Natalie.
The fact that there had been a short number of weeks that had passed on the calendar between the pink plus sign and the first spotting of blood didn't matter to Natalie; the baby was real and lived inside her, and was loved and wanted, no matter how briefly it existed. She could never forget that.
Joe was the first to mention the idea of adoption, several weeks after the miscarriage. He'd spent those weeks watching his wife sink into depression and toss and turn every night. He could see the tears in her eyes that she tried to hide when she saw families with kids together out and about.
At first, she'd been uncertain about the idea, but after some deep thought, she realized how much she wanted to be a mother. Natalie hadn't realized just how much until she had been so close only to have the chance slip away from her.
They'd started the process soon after and been approved, but they quickly realized that it would probably take years for them to get an infant, if they ever did. Their social worker suggested that they look into young children instead of babies, and she invited them to that month's matching event.
"Come on. Let's go." Joe said.
Joe and Natalie walked into the community center hand-in-hand. The loud voices of kids and adults mingled in their ears before they reached the multipurpose room where the event was hosted.
"Mr. and Mrs. Caputo, so glad you could make it."
The social worker, Kathy, greeted them with a smile and handshakes. She was a short, curvy woman with cropped dark hair and kind eyes. Kathy pushed the sign in sheet and their name tags toward them.
"We have the kids and prospective adoptive parents doing some crafts today. Feel free to jump in and start talking to some of the children. Let me know if you have questions."
Another couple walked in behind them and Kathy hurried to sign them in, leaving Natalie and Joe awkwardly standing there, wondering where and how to begin.
"I feel like we're at the animal shelter." Joe whispered to Natalie.
"Jesus, Joe… It's not like that. They're people." Natalie looked around at the children and adults socializing. "It's more like… Speed dating."
"Well, let's go paint birdhouses, then."
Joe and Natalie sat down in front of a couple of small wooden birdhouses. As Joe surveyed the array of brushes and paints in front of him, he wondered whose ideas it was to have children without homes paint them for birds. He couldn't decide whether it was some sort of cruel irony or a strange metaphor.
But the kids didn't seem to mind. A young boy in front of them was covering his in paint that he'd mixed to the color of a murky swamp. A girl nearby with dozens of braids in her hair was meticulously painting hers in shades of pink. One boy was trying to paint a Batman symbol on the side of his. A few other couples and some singles sat among the children, making idle conversation.
"I'm not really good at painting." Joe said, frowning. "I don't think I've painted a birdhouse since Scout Camp."
Natalie laughed, dipping a well-worn paintbrush into some pale-yellow paint. "Of course you were a Boy Scout."
"What is this part supposed to be?"
"I think that's so you can hang it up." The small voice came from over his shoulder.
Joe turned to see a girl of about six or seven standing behind them. Taking in the mass of fiery curls that sat on the little girl's head, her round cheeks, and the smattering of freckles across her nose, Joe couldn't help but think of Little Orphan Annie.
Joe looked at his birdhouse again. "Oh, yeah, I guess you're right. What's your name?"
"Rowan."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Joe, and this is my wife, Natalie."
Rowan looked Natalie up and down, sizing her up. "I like your shoes."
Natalie smiled a little. "Thank you."
She'd only changed them a dozen times, though the event was meant to be casual. Joe kept telling her to be herself; jeans and a pair of tennis shoes were not "herself," so she had opted for a simple floral dress and her favorite pair of Louboutins.
"Do you want to paint one?" Joe asked, gesturing to a birdhouse in the spot next to him nervously.
"Sure." Rowan sat in the empty seat next to Joe, pulling the birdhouse to her and looking at it thoughtfully, considering what paint colors would look the best. She swung a well-loved doll with ragged blonde hair up onto the table next to her.
"Do you like to paint?" Natalie asked, lamely trying to think of some way to engage the girl in conversation.
"Sometimes, but I usually color." Rowan pointed across the room. "The toddlers are over there, you know."
Natalie tilted her head slightly in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Everyone really wants babies, but toddlers are still all fat and cute and easier to get, so they like them, too. It's just how it is."
Natalie looked in the direction where Rowan had pointed. There were indeed a bunch of adults swarming the noisy toddlers, who were a range of ages and colors, and engrossed in their own coloring project.
Joe cleared his throat. "You sound like you've been to a lot of these things."
Rowan shrugged. "A few."
"How long have you been coming to them?" Joe asked, trying to ease more information about the girl from her.
Rowan averted her eyes and swirled her paintbrush in scarlet paint. "I think it's been like a year since my mom took too many of the bad drugs and went to heaven."
Natalie's jaw fell open slightly at the young girl's candor. A side glance at Joe informed her that, though he hid it better than she did, he too was shocked.
"I'm so sorry to hear that."
"It's just how it is." Rowan said again.
Joe wondered how Rowan felt about being at the event – if she felt like it was a chance to find a loving family, or if she felt more like she was a product on display. They painted in silence for a few minutes with Joe desperately trying to think of how to get talking again. His eyes finally fell on the doll.
"Will you tell us about your doll?" Joe asked.
Rowan's dark brown eyes lit up, and she dropped her paint brush, trading it for the doll. "This is Lena. My mommy bought her for me for Christmas a couple of years ago."
"Her dress is very pretty." Natalie said.
Rowan smoothed her hand over the violet satin proudly. "I know. She looks like a princess! I like to pretend that she has a castle somewhere."
Thanks to Lena, the ice was broken, opening the flow of conversation to find out more about Rowan and her favorite color (pink), school subject (reading), and animal (cat). They let their birdhouses dry and moved on to lacing brightly colored beads onto plastic lace that Joe also remembered from making lanyards at Scout Camp.
Though Natalie and Joe had been previously advised to speak to a variety of children, they only talked to Rowan.
"It was nice to meet you and play with you today." Joe said at the end of the event.
"Yes, thank you for talking to us." Natalie chimed in. "Maybe we'll see you again sometime?"
"Okay. Maybe."
Rowan smiled a little, but Natalie and Joe could tell that she didn't look convinced; she'd probably been let down before. She gave them a little wave before turning and running over to Kathy.
"That was… A lot." Natalie said, buckling her seatbelt once they'd gotten back to the car.
"I know." Joe said quietly.
"That poor little girl, losing her mother like that… I can't believe it."
"You knew these kids were gonna to have tragic stories, Nat." Joe reminded her.
"Yeah, but I didn't expect her to be just that direct about it."
Joe shrugged. "That's the thing about young kids. They are honest."
"I just froze, but, you…" Natalie turned her head to look at him. "You were a natural."
Joe smirked. "Don't sound so surprised."
"I guess I'm not really surprised that you were, but more surprised that I wasn't."
"Like you said, it's a lot." Joe said, brushing her hair out of her face.
"I really liked her though."
"So did I." Joe pushed a button to start the car. "Do you want to call Kathy and find out more about her tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I do."
One shot or to be continued? Review and let me know. ;)