I force myself to wait fifteen minutes, when I know the group discussion will be minutes from concluding, before stepping into the hallway. I’m hoping to catch Leah in the hall as she exits the conference room, but when I arrive, Carly is standing outside, the door to the room wide open.

I step around her to see Leah is still talking with the group, and I know exactly what she is telling them, the stories Carly just heard. How she would purposely wet her pants because she thought no one would want her so they would have to send her back to her mother. How her mother would leave her home alone with no food for days at a time when she was on a bender. How by the time she finally realized her mother couldn’t be a real mother for her, her likelihood of finding a permanent home was slim to none. She was destined to be a statistic, and she hoped she would beat the odds. Carly heard every gut-wrenching word of Leah’s story, and for the first time, I was scared Carly would walk away from her.

I see the mascara is running down her cheeks, and I ask her if she is okay. She ignores the question and hastily brushes the tears away from her face.

“Tell me what I need to do,” she says, her voice shaking with emotion.

Initially, I’m perplexed by her question. “To do what, Car? Be a foster parent?” I ask.

She looks back into the room where Leah is now gathering up her backpack, clears her throat, and then squares her shoulders toward me.

“No,” she says confidently. “To adopt her.”

Carly

I haven’t seen Royce since Vegas, but I haven’t been able to get that kiss out of my mind. We have texted back and forth a few times, but he has been busy recording and I have been wrapped up in work and getting to know Leah.

I must be half insane to travel down the adoption road, but there was just something about her that spoke to me and I couldn’t turn my back on her.

It’s like I see Campbell in her. I want to give this girl a life that my friend had to make for herself. I may not even be approved to adopt Leah, but I can’t help but want to try.

Needless to say, this dinner tonight was not high on my priority list. I wanted to go home after work, curl up on the couch with Liv, and watch Disney movies to her heart’s content.

This group dinner was Jen’s idea. The wedding is just around the corner and she feels the need to bring us together as much as possible to turn bridezilla loose.

Trying to be a good friend, we agreed to come over anyways.

Liv and I unload out of the car and make our way up the steps to Casen and Jen’s massive house. Bright, beautiful flowers line the walkway to the front porch, most of which I have to rescue before Liv gets her hands on them.

Spotting us through the drapes, Jen answers the door before we have a chance to knock and pulls us both into the house.

I look around at baby gate central and I can’t help but laugh. Jen is the most free-spirited, adventurous person I know, yet Ryker’s birth has somehow transformed her into that helicopter momma bear we all joke about.

“My goodness, Jen,” I laugh. “We are going to have to step over a baby gate to get in any room or hallway in this house.” I look to the wall next to me, which has outlet covers in the holes, and continue my teasing. “Ryker isn’t even two feet tall, how is he going to reach an outlet that’s halfway up the wall? Is he part of the Incredibles’ cast and you just haven’t told us?”

“Shush, you can never be too careful, and if I’m being honest, Casen was in charge of the baby proofing; he just got a little carried away.”

I nod, knowing she is absolutely lying through her teeth. Yes, Casen is extremely protective of his son and their daughter Abby, but this is the workings of Jen. She just doesn’t want to come under fire for it, so she instead opts to throw her fiancé under the bus. We’ve all done it a million times; I’m just surprised Jen wouldn’t fess up to it.

Liv runs through the house in search of Emma and Grace, while Jen grabs my hand and leads me down a back hallway. I hear laughter and glasses clinking together in the opposite direction, so I offer my best ‘what the heck’ look to Jen as she passes by the direction of the noise and crowd.

“The party’s that way. Am I missing something here, or did I do something wrong that deserves a private lashing?” The latter is entirely possible. Jen’s stress level is out of hand as the wedding approaches. We are all covering our asses, hoping the days fly by. November can’t get here quick enough.

She looks around my shoulder and ducks back into her bedroom. “No, this isn’t wedding related.”

“Okaaayyy,” I draw out.

“I know you and Royce shared some gross, sloppy kiss in Vegas–”

“Hey,” I cut her off. “It was a nice kiss. He and I have been talking. I really think you would like him if you gave him a chance.”

“Yeah, well, Casen just told me Royce is coming tonight and he’s bringing a girl. I wanted to give you the heads up.”

“What!” I screech. I had no idea he would be here and, therefore didn’t do a decent or even adequate job with my appearance, and then to hear he’s bringing someone…dagger to the stomach. I should be looking top notch; make him regret his decision to ever flaunt another woman in front of me. “Darn it, Jen. What a jerk!”

“Darn it, really?” she says, narrowing her eyes at me. “I think this deserves a little more profanity, a good old ‘fuck that douchbag’ fits the situation. I warned you what kind of guy he is.”

“Well, what do I do?” I ask, my frustration reflected in my voice. “I don’t want to be the poor sap they laugh about when they leave. I’m so embarrassed.”

How could I have been so stupid? Of course, Royce would be bringing a date, probably some hot twenty-year-old with tits under her chin and legs for days. I could never compete. I don’t know why I thought I could. Still, that is so rude to bring her here in front of me without bothering to tell me he wasn’t interested in me. Jen’s right, he’s an asshole.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to doll you up, you’re going to ignore him, and he’ll be sorry he ever played with your delicate feelings.”

I exhale loudly. While I would like to fix myself up a bit, I have no intentions of ignoring him. Nope, I’ll call him out and be super nice to the tart he brings. I can be the bigger person, and that will be more powerful than any silent treatment can be. I won’t let him get under my skin. I won’t let myself be hurt by this. Jack’s done enough of that to last a lifetime.

Jen has already left my side and is rummaging through her closet. With her job, she gets samples in every size and she tucks them away as gifts for us. I always thought it was not all that thoughtful of her to re-gift hand-me-downs that she doesn’t want, but in this moment, my goodness, I’m super thankful for something decent in my size in her closet. Lord knows I couldn’t borrow anything of hers, and the drab outfit I’m sporting isn’t going to make the cut.

“Here, try this,” she says, throwing a cute strappy dress at me before heading back into her closet. “I think I have some boots that will match.”

I undress and throw on the outfit, and when the boots come flying at me, I grab those and slide my feet into them as well. Jen finally reappears and examines me closely.

“Head to my bathroom; we need to touch up your makeup and hair a bit,” she demands.

I follow her into her expansive bathroom fit for a queen. She scrambles around me, gathering makeup in my perfect shades, turning on a hair straightener, and assembling a barrage of brushes.

She pulls the ponytail holder from my hair and feverously runs the strands between the steam of the flat iron. Once every piece is in place, she begins working on my makeup.