Page 32 of Gideon's Gratitude

“Well, I appreciate you assisting me. I plan to go shopping tomorrow at one of the big-box retailers to buy some clothes.”

I flicked a finger. “You won’t find stuff like that in this town. You’ll have to go over to Abbotsford.” I wrinkled my nose. “Why don’t you just drive back to Vancouver? An hour there, an hour to pack, an hour back…do it around lunch, and you likely won’t even hit traffic.”

“Yes, well.” Archer cleared his throat. “I’m not ready to go back. You understand.”

Did I? Was the man avoiding a person or a situation? Or both?

“You think because I live up in the mountain that I’m hiding?”

He tilted his head. “Are you not?”

“Well, yeah, okay, maybe. But not from a person or anything like that. I just, you know, don’t have anyone.”

God save me, did I just say that out loud?

“No family? Friends? Acquaintances?”

I fidgeted with the dirty napkin. “Parents disowned me when I turned eighteen and moved in with Leo.Notas roommates. They used religion to try to browbeat me into submission. Into leaving my soulmate. Needless to say, we haven’t spoken a word since. They haven’t even tried to see the kids.”

“Do they know they have grandchildren?”

“I ran into a lady from their church. Nice woman. Not in my face or anything. I had the kids with me, and we chatted. I guess she didn’t know the full story. I mentioned Leo, and she clammed right up. Said she had to be somewhere and hotfooted it out of there. I’d say it’s safe to assume she told my parents. That was three years ago.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Leo’s parents took much the same attitude. An older couple, they didn’t understand. Kept thinking it was a phase he’d work through. Eventually they realized it wasn’t going to happen. They died within months of each other a couple of years before we adopted the kids.”

“Adopted?”

Had I not already said this?

“You didn’t go for a surrogate?”

“Too expensive.” I scrunched the napkin. “We wanted kids so badly. We put our names in for adoption, hoping to get lucky. Social services contacted us. A woman had recently given birth to her second child. A single mother. Things were off the rails for her, and she couldn’t cope anymore. She wanted out. But she wanted to know her kids would be cared for. Would be loved.

“Leo and I met with her, and we could offer those promises. She signed the papers, and we took custody of the children. The adoption was finalized a few months later.” I balled up the napkin. “Those kids—Melodie and Trevor—are the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean, I love Leo, but those kids…” I pressed a hand to my sternum. “I’d do anything for them.”

“So you walked away.” A statement, not a question.

“So I walked away.” A choked response.

“Tell me about your kids.”

The compassion nearly undid me.

“Melodie’s a mature six. She was two when we adopted her, and she has no memories of her mother. Or none she’s been able to articulate. We took her to a counselor a few times, but, frankly, she adapted well to living with us. She can be solemn and serious, and at other times quite energetic. She adores her younger brother. With every action, she shows that love. At times, she can be bossy. To me, to her brother, to her father…” I cleared my throat. “I was Daddy and Leo was Papa.” Can I go on?“I can’t…”

“Trevor. He was an infant when you brought him home?”

“Yeah. So tiny. Just under six pounds. I could hold him in one hand. He fussed a lot, those first few weeks. Leo was working long shifts at the hospital. I took paternity leave from my job and stayed home with the kids. I’ve never been so stressed. Or so happy. Eventually Trevor settled, and we fell into a routine that worked.”

“Did you continue to stay home?”

I shook my head. “Paternity leave ended, and we needed the second income. Or at least we believed we did. We found a great day-care center that could take both children, and I went back towork.”

“Leo is a…?”

“Doctor.”

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