Part 6 — “He’s the Only Dad I Have”
The adoption hearing came months later.
That morning, my body felt worse than it had in years.
By the time we reached the courthouse steps, my legs had gone numb.
Meredith noticed right away.
She slipped an arm through mine.
“What?” she said. “We look sophisticated.”
“We look eighty.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Inside, the judge was kinder than I’d expected.
He reviewed the paperwork.
Asked questions.
Spoke with Ms. Martinez.
Then called Carrie forward.
She wore the blue dress Natalie had bought her the previous summer.
Seeing it nearly broke me.
The judge smiled gently.
“Carrie, I know a lot of adults have been talking about your future.”
She nodded.
“I want to hear from you. What do you want?”
Carrie reached for my hand.
Her fingers wrapped tightly around mine.
Then she looked at the judge.
“He’s the only dad I have.”
The courtroom went completely silent.
She swallowed.
Then added,
“Please don’t make us waste a single day.”
My eyes filled.
Across the room, Ms. Martinez turned to the window and quickly wiped her cheek.
The adoption was approved.
Carrie was legally my daughter.
Walking out of the courthouse, Meredith cried openly while insisting she wasn’t.
“I have allergies.”
“In December?”
“Seasonal.”
“Which season?”
“Shut up.”
For six weeks, I let myself believe we’d won.
Then my doctors delivered the news I’d spent ten years bracing for.
My condition had apparently worsened dramatically.
I had weeks left.
Maybe a few months if my body held out longer than expected.
I listened quietly.
Went home.
And started writing letters.
