“My mother was adopted. Her mom was young, like us. She decided to give the baby away. And when my mom found out, she never forgave her biological mother. It tore both of them up.”

“Yeah,” Melissa said quietly, studying a picture on one of the letters.

“I don’t want somebody feeling that way about you or me down the road.”

“I don’t either,” Melissa said. She put a hand on his leg and looked up at him. “But think about it this way. If your mom’s mother hadn’t made that choice of having her baby, you wouldn’t be here.”

Brian looked out the window. He couldn’t argue with that, but he also couldn’t shake the feeling inside.

“We can’t change what’s happened. We just have to make the best decision we can right now. And I really believe this is it.”

Brian glanced at her, then picked up one of the letters beside him. Melissa did the same, then held up the picture so he could see it.

“What about these people?” she said.

Brian glanced at the photo and quickly said, “No. He looks weird.” It was something about his eyes.

“No, he doesn’t,” Melissa said. She held the picture closer. “Yeah, he does.” She put the letter on the couch in a stack of rejects.

Brian dropped the letter he held onto the floor behind Melissa. “What are we even looking for?”

“People like us. I mean, not just like us, but . . .” She thought a moment as if she were picturing the perfect couple to raise their baby. “People that we might like. At least, people that like what we like. Better people than us, but people that would like us if they knew us. I don’t know.” She looked down at the page.

Brian stared at her blankly. “You’re weird.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Well, you’re living with me, so what does that make you?”

She smiled and laughed a little and Brian thought that was best sound he’d heard in a long time. He unfolded another “Dear Mother” letter and saw the careful handwriting on the pink stationery.

“Okay, all right, here we go. ‘Dear Mother, as honored as I was to win the prestigious title Miss Southern Alabama TWICE, now all I want is the title Mommy. And that’s where you come in!’” He crumpled the page and tossed it away. “This is, ugh.”

Melissa had her head down and when she spoke, there was something hopeful in her voice. “Listen to this. ‘We like to go camping and fishing, and we love outdoor activities. We’ve lost two boys to Aicardi syndrome at a very early age. We don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl—we just want to be parents.’”