Page 25 of All You Need Is Love

“Please, have a seat.”

“In a moment.” He continued circling her living room, edging closer to her bedroom.

A barrage of barks burst from behind the closed door, each one puncturing Shannon’s head.

The social worker leaped back. “You have a dog? He sounds vicious.”

“A golden retriever. He’s harmless.” She shot out of her seat toward her room. “Lucky, no. Stop.” The command came out much more high-pitched than she’d intended, but Lucky really was the sweetest dog and rarely barked. Why was he choosing this moment to act like a hound from the depths?

He kept growling and barking, and the veins behind Shannon’s eyes throbbed. This was a disaster. She turned to Mr. Peters. “Would you mind if I let him out so he could sniff you and know you’re all right? He’s really a nice dog, I promise.”

“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.” Mr. Peters smoothed a hand over his Friar Tuck–style bald spot.

“I’ll be right back then.” Shannon slipped into her bedroom, where a four-poster queen bed took up a majority of the space, and squatted down to Lucky’s level. “It’s okay, boy. Good dog. I’m all right. You can relax.”

The dog allowed her to scratch behind his right ear before lying down at the foot of the bed. Shannon returned to the living-slash-dining room to find that Mr. Peters had taken a seat at the table and placed the open file on top. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“Seems you’ve been apologizing a lot lately, Ms. Baker.” The man cocked his head. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

He was talking about the interview … wasn’t he?

Pushing aside the pain in her head, she lowered herself into the chair opposite Mr. Peters. “Yes, I’m ready.”

“Very well.” The man withdrew a pen from the pocket of his shirt and clicked it. “As you probably know, after this interview, we will determine if you are right for our agency. Then you will be required to take a twelve-week course that focuses largely on self-evaluation and becoming the best foster parent you can be. You’ll also have a psychiatric evaluation and, finally, a home inspection.”

“Yes, I read up on the process. I’ve tried to prepare as best I can.” She laughed to ease the tension, but it came out garbled.

“Having children is no laughing matter.”

What? “Oh, of course—”

“And it’s impossible to prepare for completely.”

“I know, but—”

“Are you one of those people who feels the need to be in control all the time? Because parenting does not fit neatly into a box. Neither do children.”

Was this guy trying to be a jerk? For the first time this morning, Shannon’s eyes didn’t feel dry. Tears threatened to spill out. But how young and immature would that look? She was twenty-seven, for goodness’ sake.

Shannon squared her shoulders, summoning the courage to look Mr. Peters in the eye again. “No, I don’t seek control. All of this feels very much outside of my control, actually. I don’t know if you saw in my file, but I’m doing this so I can adopt one of my former students. I don’t seek control. Just love. I want him to feel loved.”

And there came the desire to cry again, but this time because of the swelling in her heart.

Yet Mr. Peters appeared unmoved. In fact, his pursed lips and lifted chin and squinty eyes made him look almost … skeptical.

How was this interview going so incredibly wrong? Maybe if there had been a foster care agency in Walker Beach, with a social worker who knew her—but she’d gone with an agency based in a town thirty minutes away because Noah’s social worker had assured her it was the best one, the most efficient at getting through the paperwork.

“Good intentions aside, Ms. Baker, not everyone is fit to be a parent. And that’s why I’m here.”

Mr. Peters proceeded to ask her about her career, family situation, housing situation, strengths, and weaknesses. It all left her feeling a bit like she was interviewing for a job. Guess she was, really.

But then his questions deepened, prodding her about how she was raised. How was conflict resolved in her home as a child? Did her parents recognize and encourage her skills? How did she get along with her siblings?

And he made up scenarios too, asking her how she’d handle it if she were running late for an important meeting and Noah refused to put on his shoes or get dressed, or what she’d do if a foster child was angry about his birth parents “abandoning” him.

Sure, she had experience dealing with discipline as a preschool teacher, but she hadn’t thought through these specific scenarios. And with her lack of sleep, her answers tumbled around in her mind and emerged jumbled and broken—especially when it came to the family of origin questions.

As they neared the end of it all, Shannon’s back hurt from sitting so straight, her jaw from clenching it so often. And she only had to view the ever-growing number of creases in Mr. Peters’ forehead to realize she was completely bombing this interview.

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