Chapter 36Grace
One Week Later
“Hey, Grace, got a minute?” Jean asked as she knocked on my office door. I’d thrown myself back into work all week, trying to feel normal again after that whirlwind month by burying myself in patient charts and reporting to block out the loneliness and regret.
It was going to start working any minute now.
I waved her in, chest tightening with worry. “Is Ruby ok?”
“Routine tests. She’s ranking her favorite ponies for the nurse, so I’ve got a few hours. Days, if she moves onto zoo animals,” she said with a half-hearted smile as she handed me Helen’s borrowed blanket and a small gift bag.
I pulled out a double picture frame: On the left side was a grinning Ruby with an arm around both Santa and Mrs. Claus’s necks. On the right side was Alex kissing me under the mistletoe, his hand delicately placed on my waist and a crinkle in his eyes, the surprise evident in my stiff posture. My heart leaped into my throat as I croaked out my thanks and placed the frame next to my computer monitor, trying not to let my face betray my heartbreak. Based on Jean’s averted eyes, I was failing.
“I’ve got news,” she said, her tone bittersweet. “They found Ruby’s dad.”
“And?” I said with all the enthusiasm I could muster as dread pooled my gut. If her dad took her, she’d probably move to New York City and restart her life; if he wasn’t interested or qualified, she’d go to a foster home.
“Deadbeat, like Sarah said,” she sighed, slumping in the chair. “Not interested in taking her.”
“So she’s going into foster care,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. Jean picked at the lint on her sweater. “You’ve done a great job, giving her stability this month. And you’ll still be involved her life.”
“I know, Grace, but …” she blinked back tears and fidgeted with her necklace, her thumb rubbing along the smooth metal. “I hate not knowing who she’ll be with, whether they’ll know about her heart. She’s such a loving girl, I’d hate to see her sweetness get lost in the shuffle. I know it’s not up to me, but I wish I could hand pick her next mom.”
An idea formed in my mind, spinning with my mother’s voice: “Build houses, plant gardens. Have daughters and sons.”
I gripped my armrest and summoned the courage to speak, then blurted it out with unexpected confidence …
“I could be Ruby’s mom.”
Then I could see it, the future as open and bright as the blank calendar on my office wall: eating breakfast together, pushing her on a swing at the park, helping her with homework, tucking her into bed. Watching her grow up.
Being there for her, like I told her mom I would.
Jean’s intake of breath was so intense it felt like she stole mine. Her head shook slowly, but I recognized it as disbelief, not rejection.
“I love her, Jean,” I smiled softly, the realization warming my gut.
“Grace, taking care of Ruby, with her heart condition, it’s …” Her voice cracked and tears misted her eyes.
“I already know, and I know all her doctors. I could do it, I know I could.”
Jean’s smile widened, joy warming her face. The same joy I felt in my heart. “Grace, if you’re serious about this …”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life.” I considered going down on my knees, but just met her eyes imploringly. “I already love her, and I’ve always wanted to be a mom but didn’t see how it was possible.”
I’d told that dream to Alex, speaking it out loud for the first time since left. He’d kissed my temple and told me that those kids would be the luckiest on the planet.
But as I thought about Ruby … I knew I’d be the lucky one.
Jean’s hands fidgeted, spinning the ring on her necklace. “When Sarah told me how sick she was, she was so worried about who would take care of Ruby. And she said …” her eyes flickered behind me for a moment to the frame on my desk, “she said she knew I wouldn’t need to do it forever. I wonder … I wonder if she knew it would be you.”
She lifted the chain the chain from her neck, showcasing the ring in her palm. “This was Sarah’s mother’s ring, made with Ruby’s birthstone: a diamond for April. She joked that she skipped the ‘love and marriage’ line and jumped to the baby carriage.” Jean held it out to me. “I think this is yours, Grace.”
I looked at the ring on her outstretched palm, thought about all it meant … and closed Jean’s palm around it.
“I want to ask Ruby,” I said. “before I make any decisions for her.”
“And that’s why I know you’ll be perfect for her.”
“I don’t know,” Ruby’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Do you eat cheese?”
As soon as Jean left my office, I’d sprung into action with a renewed sense of purpose, a goal to strive towards for the first time since the sensory room opened. December had been wild and chaotic and life-changing … but now it was January. Time to get back on track. Time to give Ruby the home she deserved.
The answer had been in front of me all along: I didn’t need Shannon to have a family, or my father’s approval for what that family looked like. I’d make my own family with a little girl who I already adored.
I called Ruby’s case worker Mariana, who’d been thrilled. She ran me through the foster parent application process: a criminal background check, financial review, character references, trauma-informed training, and a home visit. We knew from the hospital’s similar requirements that most of these wouldn’t be a problem.
The only issue was the home approval. Ruby would need her own room, so I’d have to move out of my studio. Mariana assured me that there were plenty of rentals in Saratoga that would pass, sharing contact information for real estate agents. She'd even suggested renting a three- or four-bedroom place, in case I wanted to foster more children after Ruby and I got settled, if I was interested.
My stomach lifted with anxious, excited butterflies as Mariana shared that there were always kids who needed a home, short-term placements while their parents got things sorted out or longer-term options like Ruby's. There were queer kids who need a safe place where they feel understood, and my heart started to pound with a feeling of rightness so strong it left me lightheaded.
Since I’d moved into the garage apartment, I’d been dreading a phone call from Carol that they were selling the house … but when I called her to tell her I was moving out, I felt at peace with the decision. I’d rushed into that apartment because I’d needed a place quickly, and it had served me well. I’d loved living in the shadow of my dream home — and occasionally sneaking in with Alex to bake in that glorious kitchen …
But it was time to move on. I was ready to strike out and find a place where I could be a mom. Maybe I’d even take Mama’s advice and plant a garden, finally set down my own roots.
It took a week to submit it all my paperwork to the foster agency before I set up a time with Jean to talk to Ruby. I’d brought over homemade chocolate chip cookies — I wasn’t above bribery — and told her that I’d talked to Mariana about being her foster mom, if she was interested. I didn’t have a big enough house yet, but offered that maybe we could find one together. And if she liked, we could invite other kids to live with us, if they needed a place. Her eyes lit up at the possibility of foster siblings.
