Something seemed monumental about the moment the van pulled up in front of the agency. In a small, nondescript brown brick building, the agency was located in a small, compact neighborhood just west of downtown. The staff member who had come to get her – a black man who was very compassionate and cordial as to help her feel comfortable – opened the van door then guided the mother and her bundled-up baby up across the snowy sidewalk and into the building. Inside, a case manager, a Barbara Harris introduced herself then guided Sherry back to her office where they sat down on either side of the desk from one another.
“Hello, dear,” Mrs. Harris said. “The counselor, who I believe spoke with you on the phone, told me what you told her. How are you?”
Sherry gently rocked Gabriel, who had fallen asleep toward the end of the twenty minute car ride. She looked down at her newborn then back up and across at the woman. “I’m okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “I guess I’m as good as I can be.”
“Good, good,” Mrs. Harris said. She then pulled a pamphlet of information out of a holder toward the front of the desk and slid it across to Sherry. She explained the process once again, just in case Sherry didn’t fully understand. Her heart went out to the young woman, as the severity of her situation truly was written all over here face. As Mrs. Harris finished explaining, she rubbed Sherry’s shoulder then handed her tissue. “Here you go… I know how you must be feeling.”
“Yeah, thank you,” Sherry said, grabbing some tissues and wiping her eyes. She looked down at Gabriel, nearly not wanting to look into his face because with every passing moment she sat in this adoption agency, the guilt that started when she began seriously thinking about giving him up for adoption became stronger and more unbearable for her tender heart. “Okay, so I wanna know a couple of things. I know people say stuff is confidential, but then you hear these stories about children who were
adopted growing up and going off to find their real parents and all that. What is that about? I don’t want to be found, Misses Harris. I just don’t.”
Sherry listened as Mrs. Harris explained the confidentiality part of the adoption process. She did admit that certain legal actions could indeed press them to open the file, but that they were rare and that mothers were not required by law to answer any requests. Furthermore, what often was the case was that even if a child did find out the name of his birth more, the trail tended to run cold because of relocation, a woman getting married, and so on. However, she did warn that with the rise of social media in recent decades, people were finding people in ways never thought possible when these rules and laws were written. “I can’t guarantee that you’ll never be found, because I just don’t know if such is possible, but I can tell you that it’s very unlikely they’ll find you through the agency. How a lot of adopted children find their parents wind up finding their parents is through locals where they were born, especially if the mother was, I guess you could say social or well-known.” She forced a smile, never changing her compassionate, consoling eyes.
Sherry nodded, taking the information for its value. She looked down at Gabriel again before lifting her head back up and explaining how she’d basically become reclusive once she started to show. Truthfully, her reclusive nature was a bit induced by the fact that The Blue Ivy fired her. “Yeah, my family doesn’t know. I’m estranged from them.”
“Well, I do want to say that it’s a good thing that you decided to do this before you got too attached to the child,” Mrs. Harris said. “I know that seems like a cruel thing to say, but I’ve been working in this business for nearly twenty years at this point. The longer the mother waits, the more attached and heartbreaking I guess you could say it is to give a child up for adoption. I believe you said this child is four or five days old? I know this is hard to believe, but this will be the easier way...before you get into having people see you with him...and taking pictures..and clothes shopping...and daycare.”
Sherry nodded. What the woman was saying made sense. She sniffled a bit because these were things she wanted to experience one day, but that day just wasn’t now or any time in the foreseeable future. Sherry went on to ask a few more questions then Mrs. Harris started pulling out paperwork – paperwork that sent a jolt of realty through Sherry’s soul.
“Now, I have to ask this, so please forgive me,” Mrs. Harris said. “What is the situation with the father?”
“The father?” Sherry said. The words were so faint Mrs. Harris could barely hear them.
Gabriel’s father was another factor Sherry had been grappling with leading up to that snowy night Chrissy rushed her to the hospital. The truth of the matter was that she didn’t have an answer. The last guy she’d been with was that guy who was in town on business from Chicago, but there were a few guys before who could’ve easily been the father as well. Sherry wasn’t proud of her choices in men she slept around with, but she learned as she got older that some choices she would simply have to live with and move on.
“He’s not in the picture,” Sherry said, avoiding eye contact with the woman who appeared old enough to be her mother.
“It’s okay, honey,” Mrs. Harris said. “I just have to ask. Have you even tried to contact him? Would he be willing to take full custody of the child and you hand over your parenting rights?”
Sherry took a deep breath and sighed, realizing it was time to face the music and openly talk about one of the most sensitive aspects of her life. “Well, I don’t exactly know who he was. It could be a few men, honestly. If I had to get in touch with any of them, there would be one I could probably work my way to finding out how to get in touch with him. The others,” she shrugged, “not so much.”
“Okay, what about that one?” Mrs. Harris asked, jotting things down. “Have you contacted him? Sorry, but I do have to ask.”
Sherry’s mind flashed back to the spring night where she met the guy at the bar then hooked up with him at his hotel room out on the edge of the city. He was good-looking, appeared to make a good living for himself, and even was respectful of her on a night where she was being a little looser than usual. Vividly, she remembered the way his silver wedding ban glistened in the motel room light before the guy turned them out and climbed into the bed with her. When Sherry snapped out of her flashback, she admittedly honestly, “He’s married.”
Mrs. Harris nodded then finished filling out her part of the paper work. The better part of the next hour was filling out document after document, answering revealing question after revealing question. Sherry became somewhat numb to it all, rocking Gabriel gently and hoping he didn’t burst into a loud cry. She didn’t fear his crying for the sake of the silence; rather, Sherry wanted to keep her beautiful baby boy from crying because his tears would only remind her of this horrible corner she felt forced into.
“Okay, honey,” Mrs. Harris said. “If you’re ready, the child can be handed over to us. We understand if all of this is more overwhelming than you imagined when you came in. And that’s okay. We have plenty of mothers who start the process first then spend a few more days with the child to be sure then hand them over. If you would like to do that, that’s fine as well.”
Sherry forced a smile, looking down into Gabriel’s tiny face once again. Just a few minutes ago, Mrs. Harris had explained the likelihood of Gabriel being adopted by a good family. The agency used a stringent adoption process to be sure a child is placed with the best family. Sherry took comfort in this, knowing that if the child ever were to somehow find her down the road in life, she would feel much better if he were in the hands of people who could give him a better life that she ever could. Reality had set in, and she was feeling more confident about it, especially since, like Mrs. Harris said back in her office, that it would be much easier to give the child up for adoption sooner rather than later. Sherry pushed through her hesitation and gently handed her newborn baby over to the case manager. As Mrs. Harris held him in her arms, Sherry leaned over and kissed him on his forehead one last time while she also pushed her index finger into his tiny, slightly closed hand. She wept; tears rolling uncontrollably down her cheeks. “Bye, Gabriel.”
Watching Mrs. Harris walk off and toward the nursery with Gabriel was a sight Sherry would never forget. There she stood, between a cluster of desks and the agency’s front entrance, while the older woman disappeared into the back of the building, turning a corner. Her head dropped as she burst into tears. “I’m so sorry I have to do this,” she sobbed softly. “I’m so sorry, Gabriel.”
Unexplainable emotions filled Sherry’s heart and soul that afternoon, on into the evening. She cried in ways she’d never cried before – more than when her favorite grandmother died when she was just ten years-old, more than the night she had that last defining fall-out with her judgmental family, forever cementing her role in the family as the black sheep. The minutes turned into hours as the sun rose to the middle of the sky then back down, falling behind the trees. When Chrissy walked through the door that evening after a long day at work, the first thing on her mind had been what she and Sherry talked about just last night. Sherry lifted her head and looked into her best friend’s eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Chrissy then rushed across the room, sat down on the couch next to her, and hugged her tightly.
“It’s going to be alright, Sherry,” Chrissy said. “I’m here for you. I always will be.”
Chapter 5
“Wow, it’s great to hear about the success you’re having with your endeavors here in Fort Wayne, Darren,” Charles said. The insurance agent patted his new-made friend on the back. “I mean, really, that’s amazing.”
Darren smiled and confidently held his drink up in the air, gesturing for a toast with Charles and Anthony. The insurance agent and accountant clacked the rims of their glasses against Darren’s then held them up to their lips and sipped. The renovations Darren had been showing his brother John durin
g his visit were completed and far ahead of schedule. His efforts to get units filled were going so well there was no doubt in his mind the four-building complex would be filled within the next couple of months. To celebrate, he invited the first couple of friends he made in Fort Wayne out for drinks.
Darren, Charles, and Anthony chatted for the next hour or so as they drunk their beers. Darren talked about some of the landscaping he wanted to do with the complex, as well as some of the other investment properties he and his family purchased around the city. Charles griped about his wife, almost in such a way that his two comrades could tell he was in no rush to get home to her. Anthony talked about a new firm coming to Ft. Wayne and how his ultimate goal was to network so he could get them to get a CPA contract with them. Darren nodded, listening to it all and feeling more “at home” than he did before. Finally, he’d gotten around to building a social life of sorts.
Around 8 o’clock, Darren paid the bill then the three men stood up and headed for the door. Outside, they chatted as they walked down the snowy sidewalk. The wind picked up, putting a little pep in their step. At the corner, Charles and Anthony thanked Darren for the celebratory invitation then each went their separate ways, disappearing into the cluster of buildings and the darkening night. Darren quickly paced back to his car, which was parked a couple of blocks over. Still in good spirits, he hopped behind the wheel and rubbed his hands together in anticipation for tonight. For nearly a year, he’d be so focused on building his new life that he cut back on having fun like he used to back in Chicago. Tonight, however, he was going to break his good boy stride.