“I know that. I’m asking because I want to be a mother.”
Richard hesitated. “You’re sure you’re ready for this?”
“More than anything.”
“All right. Let’s talk to the agency.”
***
After completing the training and background checks, we met with a social worker.
What if we became foster parents?
“Would you consider an older child?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” I replied.
“Then there’s a twelve-year-old boy named Nolan.”
“What’s his story?”
“His mother died years ago. His grandmother raised him until she became ill. He’s been moved several times since.”
We met with a social worker.
“Poor boy,” I whispered.
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That July afternoon, she brought Nolan to our house.
He stood on our porch holding a trash bag filled with clothes.
“Hi, Nolan. I’m Emma.”
