Curtis stared at me over his dark-rimmed glasses. The man reminded me of a wet and pitiful owl with his dull hair around his flat, round face. His appearance didn’t match his reputation, though; and certainly didn’t match the small fortune I was paying him. A fortune I’d reluctantly borrowed from my mom.

“I am perfectly aware of the predicament you’ve found yourselves in. I am only drawing your attention to the obvious. Even though you may be the child’s natural parents, have a bond with him and his adoptive grandfather—well, at least Cassandra does—you’re still without a permanent address, permanent jobs and—”

“—That will soon be remedied. I’m leaving for D.C. tomorrow and will start in my new position as early as next week… with Senator Estevez.” I hated name-dropping but it was now or never.

Curtis wriggled in his far-too-big seat and continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “An adoption is a time-consuming process. We’ll have to complete all the application forms as well as go through the required training. Then we’ll come to the home study and the extensive background checks, and even if you’re finally approved to adopt, Lucas won’t be given to you straight-away. Pre-placement visits will have to be scheduled and it might take up to a year after his permanent placement for the adoption to be legalized.” The attorney had delivered the speech in a single breath. He took another one before he continued, “As you mentioned, this professional opportunity is in D.C, which is in a different state from where the child lives. I can’t point out how important—“

“If our case seems like too much hard-work for you, please let us know now and we’ll seek legal advice elsewhere.”

Curtis recoiled and Cassie clasped my hand. As always when she touched me, I wanted to get closer to her. She leaned toward me to bridge the narrow space between us. “Mr. Curtis is only trying to warn us of potential obstacles. We’ll have to prove ourselves.”

The lawyer nodded, visibly relieved by the tiny woman next to me flying to his rescue. I forced myself to relax.

“Mr. Curtis,” she started and I knew what she was about to say, “I was asked to go on tour with a band. I might be offered representation by an agent at the end of it.” She bit her lower-lip and threw a sheepish sideways glance at me. “I don’t want to do anything that could weaken our case. So if you think I should give it up…”

She left her unfinished sentence hanging in the air. Curtis seemed to weigh the pros and cons in his head before answering. “And how long will the tour last?”

“Six more weeks. I’m filling in for a guy who broke his leg. I can cancel if you think—”

Curtis raised his hand to stop Cassie and it made me resent him even more. “No need, Cassandra.” But his voice softened as he pronounced her name and he was clearly making an effort to smooth his sharpness when talking to her. “If it’s only immediate and temporary, it shouldn’t be any problem. We have to use the next couple of months to fill the forms and gather all the basic information and documentation anyway. However…” he cleared his throat, “I believe a judge will have serious reservations about any prospective mother who lives on a tour bus. Add to this the fact you’re a high-school drop-out who abandoned—”

“—We’re not here to revisit the past. Cassie has a gift and I intend to support her career, in the same way she’s supporting mine.”

Cassie ignored me. “I understand, Mr. Curtis.”

The lawyer nodded, then his focus swung back to me. “I simply want to make sure all odds are stacked in your favor.”

His words were clearly a peacemaking gesture. And Curtis was right. Lucas was not yet ours. “We’ll do everything you ask us to do.”

“Also, please don’t forget that the unsupervised access to Lucas you’ve been granted today is purely thanks to the good word of his grandfather. Cassandra seems to have a close relationship with him and the caseworker. Remember that under absolutely no circumstance at this stage are you allowed to say or do something that could compromise the child’s balance.”

“That’s pretty vague,” I said.

“You should act as well-intentioned friends of his late parents and of his grandfather. No more. Don’t discuss your biological bond.”

“We won’t,” Cassie answered.

When we walked out of the downtown office of Curtis, Curtis & Brown, LLC, the early August heat fell over us like a lead blanket.

Cassie whistled. “That went well.”

The stoop in her shoulders said otherwise. So did the crease between her eyebrows. I couldn’t stand seeing her like this, not after I’d promised we’d get Lucas back. I grabbed her hand and invited her to look at me. “Curtis may not be much of a people person, but I think he’s exactly who we need.”

“Frustration was steaming out of your nostrils.”

“Yeah, the guy grates on my nerves. All lawyers do. But like he said, we’re a couple of twenty-four-year-olds without traditional jobs or a proper home. Plus, our track-record as the perfect couple pretty much sucks.” If only I could travel back in time and keep Cassie from putting Lucas up for adoption. Or if only I had gone after her before it was too late.

Cassie’s shoulders hunched even more. I stepped closer, lowering myself so that my eyes could meet hers. My free hand slid around her waist. “Please trust me, Cass. I’ll figure this out. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll even be nicer to lawyers.” Her lips tightened but the clouded thoughts seemed to dissipate from her eyes. “Believe in me, Cass. I’ll get Lucas back.”

She gave me a tiny nod. I wanted Cassie’s trust. I needed her trust.

“Let’s go. We don’t want the little one to wait and traffic looks like hell.”

I pulled Cassie toward the entrance of the underground parking lot and checked my watch. The very watch Lenor, my fiancée until two weeks ago, had given me for my birthday. I shook away the memory of the mess Cass and I had created and wallowed in over the last six years.

This was my chance—our chance—to make things right. I’d made a promise to Cass and to damn it all to hell, I’d never break it.

Cassie

Josh had spent a fortune on the tickets. Three seats on the first base line at Kauffman Stadium to watch The Royals slaughter The Seattle Mariners. I knew he wasn’t exactly rolling in cash at the moment. Still, it was all completely lost on me.

I’d spent the whole game with my eyes glued on the little boy sitting between Josh and me. I’d never been with Lucas before with the crazy possibility that he could be mine. Hopefully, we’d be able to call him our little boy. Soon.

Soon. I kept repeating the mantra in my head.

“Baseball is complicated,” Lucas concluded, after Josh tried to explain the basics of the sport while pitcher Will Smith was notching his career-best eighth strikeout. “I prefer football.” Lucas brought the straw of his apple juice back to his mouth and sipped on it again. He sounded like a mini-adult.

I saw the high-school quarterback in Josh give a war whoop. A love for football must have passed to Lucas with the rest of Josh’s DNA: the brown hair, the Coca-Cola eyes and the dimples. I had no idea where my genes had gone during the conception lottery. Though, I hadn’t heard Lucas sing yet: maybe he was the next Groban.

I chuckled and Josh cocked an eyebrow. I smiled back at him. He’d been trying so hard since we’d picked up Lucas at his foster home. I rested my hand on his little knee. He was wearing jeans, but the contact was enough for him to relax. His shoulders dropped a bit and his upper-body swayed toward me. Not by much, but I had to fight the overwhelming need to wrap my arms around him to keep him safe and close. My need for Lucas felt like hunger. I shook myself.

Josh’s fingertips brushed against my cheekbone like they often did these days. Our eyes met: It was my turn to sway. He knew how it felt. I saw it in a smile that wasn’t enough to crease his dimples.