HAPPINESS FOR NATALIE
Natalie had been meaning to do this for a long timeadopt a child from an orphanage. After six years of marriage without children, her husband had left her for someone younger and more successful. Natalie felt drained, as if shed given all she had to family life. She had no energy left to try again, to find someone whod stand by her “for better or worse.” No, shed had enough. That was her decision. If she was going to pour her heart into someone, it wouldnt be a partnerit would be someone who truly needed warmth.
So she made her move. She gathered all the necessary paperwork, consulted with social services, and now the most important step remained: finding the right boy to call her son, to become her legacy, and to give all the love shed stored up over her 38 years.
She didnt want a babyshe was past the age of sleepless nights, swaddling, and cooing. Instead, she headed to the childrens home to find a little boy, three to five years old, whod feel like her own.
On the tram ride there, she fidgeted like it was a first date, too distracted to notice the full bloom of spring outsidesoft, silky, with a crisp chill and impossibly bright sunshine. The tram creaked around bends while Natalies thoughts raced ahead to the child already out there in the world, unaware fate had chosen him for her.
Beyond the tram windows, the city hummed with lifecars glinting in the sun, people rushing somewhere. None of them knew Natalie was on her way to meet her happiness. She turned away from the other passengers, staring without seeing, already smiling at the son shed meet in minutes.
Then came her stop. Right there, plain as day: “Childrens Home.” Next one: “Nursery.”
She stepped off and saw itan old manor with peeling columns, once white, now streaked like camouflage, as if hiding from some unseen enemy.
Inside, she explained herself to the security guard, who pointed her to the headmistresss office.
The headmistress was an elderly woman in a stretched-out, hand-knitted cardigan, provincial and a bit untidy, but with sharp eyes that told Natalie shed been in this job for years. Their conversation was brieftheyd spoken the day before.
“Right then, shall we go and have a look?” the headmistress said, rising from her chair.
Natalie followed her down a long corridor with dark blue panelling.
“The younger ones are in the playroom,” the headmistress tossed over her shoulder before pushing open the door.
About fifteen children, boys and girls, were scattered across the carpeted floor or clustered around toy cabinets. A caregiver sat at a table by the window, glancing up now and then to keep watch.
The moment the adults entered, the children swarmed them, clinging to their legs, tilting eager faces upward, chirping like sparrows:
“Is it me? Have you come for me?”
“No, shes *my* mum! I dreamed about her!”
“Take me! Im your daughter!”
The headmistress absently patted heads, murmuring quick descriptions to Natalie, who stood frozen, struck by the impossible truthshe wanted to take them *all.*
All of them except the boy by the window, the one who hadnt moved from his little chair, who only turned to watch the familiar ritual unfold.
For some reason, Natalie walked straight to him. She placed a hand on his head.
Beneath her palm, slightly slanted eyes of no particular colour stared backoddly fitting his broad cheeks, wide nose, and faint, barely-there eyebrows. He looked nothing like the child shed imagined. As if confirming her thought, he said:
“You wont pick me anyway.”
Yet his gaze clung to her, silently begging her to prove him wrong.
“Why do you say that, love?” Natalie asked, keeping her hand where it was.
“Cause Im always sniffly and get poorly a lot. And Ive got a little sister, Ellie. Shes in the baby room. I go see her every day, pat her head so she doesnt forget shes got a big brother. My names Jack, and Im not going anywhere without Ellie.”
Then, as if to prove his point, his nose started running.
And right then, Natalie knewshed been waiting her whole life for a sniffly little boy named Jack and a sister she hadnt even met yet but already loved.
