Always Dakota - Debbie Macomber [100]
“We knew when we applied to adopt Axel—”
“Just tell me!” she shouted, tears already brimming, ready to spill down her pale cheeks.
Bob felt like sobbing himself. “The judge decided on another couple as the adoptive parents for Axel. Two doctors who’ve been waiting five years to adopt a child. They’re…good people.”
“And we’re not?” she sobbed. Leaning forward she started to rock gently.
“Neither one of them has been arrested on drug charges,” he muttered, repeating what their attorney had told him. Bob had hoped and believed and trusted that he’d done the honorable thing when he contacted the authorities about Axel. He’d known the risks, but he’d been willing to take them because he’d truly thought that in time Axel would be returned to him and Merrily. They were his parents. The only family he knew. They loved the boy.
His wife was sobbing now. She covered her face with both hands and continued to rock with grief. Had he been able to, Bob would have reached out and comforted her, but his own pain was too great. He had nothing to give her, nothing to help her through this.
“It’s all my fault,” he whispered.
“Why did this happen?” Merrily wailed. “Why?” she demanded again when he didn’t answer.
“We each have a police record.”
“That was years ago—it shouldn’t matter anymore. Is the court honestly going to hold a five-year-old drug arrest against me for the rest of my life?”
“There’s more…Doug said we displayed a less than ideal home environment.” He shook his head hopelessly.
“Less than ideal what?” Her voice echoed the outrage he’d felt when he’d first heard the words. “Did they say I wasn’t a good enough mother? Is that it? That I didn’t love Axel enough? Because I couldn’t have loved him any more than I already do right now. Bob, Bob, what am I going to do without my baby?”
Bob had no answers or reassurances, as desperate as Merrily was to hear them. Apparently, the judge didn’t feel that living above a bar was the proper environment for a child. Or that Bob had potential as a father. Or Merrily as a mother, despite her love, despite the fact that she’d saved Axel’s life.
He shook his head again, unable and unwilling to repeat what was sure to bring her more pain. “We both loved him enough….”
“Then why?” Her sobs made the words almost indistinguishable.
Bob wished it was possible for him to cry, to vent his own bitterness and sense of loss. Instead he shoved all the emotion deep inside.
“Blame me,” he told her.
Merrily stared at him, her face streaked with tears, her eyes imploring him to untangle the court’s message. “You?”
“Remember how the caseworker examined the new plaster on the wall?” he asked. He didn’t wait for Merrily to respond. “She asked me about it, and I made up some excuse.”
“You lied?”
“Yes, dammit, I lied. I couldn’t very well admit that I rammed my fist through the wall, could I? Only it didn’t do any good. If anything, it hurt us. These people are trained observers, and she put two and two together fast enough, especially since I’d recently been in a cast and she saw that, too.”
“Oh, Bob.”
“In her report, she concluded that I’m susceptible to fits of anger.”
Merrily gasped. “The only reason you punched the wall was because I’d run away.”
“It doesn’t matter why I did it.” He couldn’t, wouldn’t tell Merrily what else the report said. No need to rub salt into her wounds. In making his decision, the judge had also cited Merrily’s tendency to run away when confronted with problems.
“What are we going to do?” She sobbed. But he had nothing to suggest. He’d never felt so inadequate.
“The attorney said the judge told him the decision was a difficult one.” As though that was supposed to make them feel better. It didn’t. Nothing would.
Without another word, Merrily stood, and he watched as she wandered blindly out of his office, then drifted upstairs.