The woman, her hair knotted into a bun at the nape of her bun, slipped her hand into her husband's, clutching it tight. He frowned at her, his forehead creasing. "Are you sure about this, Eileen?"
"I'm positive, Scott." She closed her eyes and laid a hand on her stomach. "I'm not going to risk it."
"Alright, whatever you say. Just remember, I'm always behind you." He pecked her on the cheek, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.
Eileen smiled feebly at him. "I know, honey."
Pulling out of his grasp, she strode forward and rapped her knuckles sharply against the door. "Excuse me, ma'am? It's Eileen and Scott Crawford. I believe we contacted last week about being interested in adopting one of your children?
"Ah, yes," a scratchy, reedy voice sounded from behind the wooden door. "Please come in."
She glanced at Scott, who gave her a playful nudge closer to the door. Nodding gratefully to him, she creaked open the door and approached the elderly woman who was sipping a cup of tea behind her desk. "Hello, dear. It's nice to meet you two at last."
"Likewise, Ms. Silsbury." Scott stepped forward and grasped the frail woman's hand.
"So, we came here to talk business, no?" Ms. Silsbury said smoothly, toying with her fat pearl necklace. "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?"
"Yes, ma'amm that would be lovely." Eileen nodded, sitting down and accepting the delicate cup.
"Now, you're a couple of youngsters," the old woman remarked, stirring her tea with a silver spoon and regarding the couple sternly over her horn-rimmed spectacles. "Why don't you just have children yourself?"
Scott looked anxiously at his wife, who was staring pointedly at her lap. "Um, ma'am..I'm afraid that's a sensitive-"
"No," Eileen shook her head. "I was diagnosed with leukemia during my freshman year of high school...and I remember how painful it was for me and my family. I refuse to take the risk."
"Fair enough." Ms. Silsbury nodded, adjusting her glasses. "What sort of children would you be interested in adopting? Do you have a specific preference?"
"Oh, well...we never actually thought about preferences." She let out a nervous laugh, exchanging a look with Scott.
There was a slight scuffle outside. "Oh, give me a moment," Ms. Silsbury said apologetically, turning to the door and hollering, "Samuel! Is that you? What did I tell you about eavesdropping?"
The door creaked open, and a scrawny boy in a wheelchair poked his head inside. He looked resignedly at his lap, murmuring, "Sorry, ma'am."
"For God's sake, Samuel!" Ms. Silsbury exclaimed. "What do you think-?"
Scott eased to his feet and approached the boy, kneeling down. "Hi, Samuel. I'm Scott."
Hands fidgeting, he blurted out, "Sam. C-call me Sam."
"Alright, Sam." The man grinned encouragingly, brushing the hair out of his blue eyes. "How old are you? What are the sort of things you like to do?"
"I-I'm nine, sir," Sam muttered nervously, his dark bangs hanging in front of his face. "And I guess I like to...draw."
"That sounds wonderful," Eileen walked over, resting a hand on her husband's shoulder. She exchanged a look of him, before nodding tersely. "One more question, Sam. Would you mind having a new mom and dad?"
"A mom and dad?" the little boy stuttered. "Um...okay."
Eileen laughed, before turning to the woman who watching the scene unfold with a tight-lipped frown, intense dislike etched on her face. "If you wouldn't mind, Ms. Silsbury...Scott and I would like to adopt this boy."
"Are you sure, Mrs. Crawford?" Ms. Silsbury protested. "He's a no-good troublema-"
"We're absolutely positive," she said firmly. "Could you send us the paperwork? I believe I gave you our home address last time we talked."
"Yes, yes...thank you, Mrs. Crawford," the elderly woman said stiffly, giving the woman a pat on the forearm. "I hope you see you again soon."
Eileen smiled graciously at the boy, who was staring at the couple in awe. "We'll see you some other time, Sam."
"Yeah...thank you, Mrs. Crawford," he echoed Ms. Silsbury's words, sweeping the bangs out of his eyes.
"Call me 'Mom'."
a/n: sam is naoi!
