It isnt a toy
Why on earth would you want a child, Nora? Youre pushing forty! Children are for the young, she laughed, her voice echoing off the cramped kitchen tiles.
Nora placed her teacup down with deliberate slowness, watching Sophie wipe away tears that clung to the edges of another laugh. The kitchen seemed to close in on her, the scent of the steeped tea turning syrupy in the dim light.
Sophie, Im serious. I want to adopt a child from a care home.
Sophie flicked her hand, a sudden burst of giggles spilling out.
Oh, stop it! At your age people start worrying about grandchildren, not about swapping nappies!
Nora clenched her fingers around the warm porcelain. Across the table, Sophies cheeks were flushed from laughter, oblivious to how sharply her words cut.
Listen, Sophie, Nora leaned forward, her voice a whisper that trembled like a curtain in a windless room. I want a child for myself. I feel empty without one. Ive been married twice and both ends fell apart. And you know I cant have children of my ownmy health wont allow it. So I need to fill this
Stop, stop! Sophie raised a hand, eyes wide. Do you understand what youre saying? It isnt a plaything! Its a lifetime of responsibility!
Nora reclined in her chair, the smile slipping from Sophies face, replaced by a solemn mask.
And if something happens to you, Nora? What will happen to the child? Youll be alone! And the money? Do you realise how much it costs to raise a child? Clothes, food, clubs, school, university!
Ive thought about that, Nora replied calmly. I know the system prioritises infants, so Ill adopt a three or fouryearold. I can work from home, devote every spare minute to the child. Ill manage.
Sophie shook her head, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders like a waterfall.
You dont get it! Raising a child isnt just working in your kitchen. It means waking at night when they cry, sitting in hospitals when theyre ill, giving up your own life!
Ill manage. Im not looking for a relationship. My salary is solid, Nora said firmly. I have savings, my own flat. Nothing to worry about.
Its not about the money! Sophie sprang up, pacing the kitchen. You wont cope! This child will wreck your life! You dont understand what youre stepping into!
Nora rose slowly, her fingers gripping the edge of the table.
It hasnt wrecked yours. You have a son and you seem happy.
Of course! Sophie snapped, turning sharply. My family is whole! I have a husband! Im perfectly content! And youre alone!
The air between them thickened, a heavy fog of accusation. Nora stared at Sophie, her ears ringing with disbelief.
Whole family? she repeated slowly. So Im incomplete?
I didnt mean that, Sophie tried to soften her tone. Its just easier with a husband. He helps, supports. You have no one.
I see, Nora said coldly. Thanks for the support, sister.
Sophie snatched her handbag from the windowsill, her movements jittery.
Im worried about you! I dont want you to do something stupid!
Go, Nora whispered, not meeting her gaze.
The door slammed shut. Nora was left alone in the kitchen, the lingering aroma of unfinished tea mingling with the bitterness of the words just spoken. She sank into her chair, covering her face with her hands.
Perhaps Sophie was right? Perhaps she truly couldnt manage? Doubt swirled in her mind, each of Sophies remarks echoing like a pulse in her chest. She imagined empty evenings in her flat, a silence pressing against her shoulders, the absence of a childs laughter.
For two days she moved through her work mechanically, answering client calls, yet thoughts kept drifting back to that conversation. She found herself scrolling through pictures of children on adoption sites, then abruptly closing the tabs, as if snapping a nightmare into daylight.
On Thursday evening her friend Marina called.
Nora, whats wrong? Your voice sounds flat.
Nora recounted the argument, the hurtful words, the fear that clung to her like a cold mist.
Your sisters off base, Marina said firmly. Youre not alone. You have me, your mum, your dad. If something happens to you, there will be someone to look after the child.
Nora pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window.
And if I cant manage?
You will. Youre strong, clever, you have a kind heart. That child will have a happy life with you.
After Marinas words a calm settled over Noras thoughts. Yes, she wanted this child. Yes, she was ready to give love, care, a good life. The opinion of her sister no longer mattered.
On Sunday she drove to her parents house to tell them of her decision. The car eased up the familiar lane that led to the gated entrance of a suburban bungalow in the rolling hills of Kent. Nora stepped out, opened the gate, and walked toward the porch.
From the garden behind came raised voices. Nora froze. It was Sophie and her parents, locked in a heated debate.
You have to stop her! Sophie shouted. She shouldnt have a child! Shes too old! She doesnt need one!
Nora wants this, her mother replied, bewildered. How can you say that?
Nora slipped closer, hiding behind the stone wall, her heart hammering like a drum.
Im speaking not only for Nora but for my own child! Sophies voice cracked with anger. Noras flat should go to my son if anything happens to her! Its my familys inheritance!
Nora felt the ground tilt beneath her.
So the flat will go to the child Nora adopts! Sophie continued, her words tumbling like broken glass. To a stranger, while all Noras money ends up with us!
Silence fell. Then her fathers voice, weary:
Sophie, do you understand what youre saying?
I do! Im just protecting my familys interests!
Nora could listen no longer. She stepped out from the shadows.
How could you treat me like this? she cried.
All three turned. Sophies face turned ashen.
Nora…
You told me I couldnt raise a child, just because you wanted my flat! My money!
Sophie tried to speak, flailing her arms.
Youve got it wrong! I
Ive understood perfectly! Nora moved closer, her voice steady. And thank goodness I heard you with my own ears! Otherwise Id have blamed myself forever.
Her mother lowered her head, her father stared at Sophie in bewilderment.
Nora, listen, Sophie began.
No! You listen! Nora turned her back. Stay away from me! Never again
She walked to the car, not looking back. Behind her, muffled voices of her parents and Sophie faded, but the fire of resolve burned bright within her.
The following months blurred into paperwork, commissions, psychologists, social workers. Nora pressed forward, indifferent to bureaucracy, each signature bringing her nearer to her dream.
Finally the day arrived. In the corridor of the care home, a small girl named Emily shyly clasped Noras hand.
Mum? Are you my mum now? the child whispered.
Nora sat beside her.
Yes, sweetheart. Im your mum now.
Emilys smile flooded Noras heart with a love she had never known, all the lonely years spilling out in a rush.
Later, at the new house, Emily explored her room, tracing the outlines of toys Nora had bought in advance. That night they read a story together, and Emily fell asleep, her head resting on Noras shoulder.
Her grandparents welcomed the granddaughter with joy. Her mother couldnt stop cooing over her, and her father, within a week, built a swing set in the garden. Marina was thrilled tooher son Arthur and Emily quickly became friends, playing whenever the families gathered.
The only lingering shadow was the strained relationship with Sophie. At family gatherings she pretended Nora didnt exist, turning away whenever she entered a room. But Nora no longer felt the sting.
She had Emily. A girl who rushed to her bed each morning with questions about the day, who drew pictures with crayons and proudly showed them off, who fell asleep to lullabies and whispered I love you before drifting off.
Life finally had meaning.
In the evenings, when Emily slept, Nora would sit by her bedside, watching the peaceful little face, her heart swelling with gratitudetoward fate, toward herself for the courage to act, even toward Sophie, whose greed had oddly opened Noras eyes.
Nora tucked the blanket tighter and whispered softly:
Sleep, my sunshine. Mums right here.
