Chapter 3 - The First Home Study
Thomas had assumed money would make the process easier.
It did not.
It made several parts harder.
The adoption agency wanted to understand why a billionaire wanted a four year old with complex medical needs one year after losing his own daughter.
Reasonable question.
Thomas still hated answering it.
Maya Ellis, the licensed adoption attorney coordinating with St. Michael’s and the state, sat across from Thomas and Clare at their Beacon Hill townhouse.
“You are not adopting a grief treatment,” she said.
Thomas nodded.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Maya looked at Clare.
“And you?”
Clare’s hands were clasped.
“I’m not sure I want to adopt.”
Thomas looked at her.
They had agreed honesty.
It still hurt.
Maya wrote something.
“Good.”
Thomas frowned.
“Good?”
“Better than pretending.”
The process involved:
Background checks.
Financial disclosures.
Medical clearances.
References.
Parenting education.
Accessibility assessment.
Interviews separately and together.
A review of Emma’s death and their grief treatment.
The house itself created an obvious problem.
Three stories.
Narrow stairs.
Elise could not live safely there without major changes.
Thomas said:
“I’ll install elevator.”
Maya shook her head.
“Do not renovate a house before you have approval.”
“I build buildings.”
“You are still not in charge.”
Clare almost smiled.
Thomas disliked Maya slightly.
That probably meant she was good.
Nurse Ada provided Elise’s care plan.
Spina bifida repaired at birth.
Hydrocephalus treated with a shunt.
Wheelchair primary mobility.
Good upper body strength.
Some sensation and movement below hips, limited.
Regular urology management.
Physical therapy.
Possible orthopedic surgery within a year depending hip alignment.
No promise she would walk independently.
No promise she never would.
Thomas read every page.
Clare read them twice.
That night she said:
“I hate the phrase lifelong care.”
“Why?”
“It sounds like a sentence.”
“It is just reality.”
“For her?”
“For all of us.”
Clare stared.
Thomas added:
“Emma needed lifelong care too.”
She looked angry.
Then understood.
Every child does.
Most parents just do not receive the risks in a binder first.
Two weeks into the home study, Elise visited their house with Nurse Ada and a caseworker.
Thomas had moved nothing of Emma’s.
He wanted the professionals to see the truth.
Elise rolled through the first floor.
The thresholds were manageable.
The stairs were not.
She stared up.
“That’s stupid.”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
“Where do people with wheels go?”
“Currently, nowhere upstairs.”
“So your house is bad.”
“Architecturally embarrassing.”
She accepted that.
Then she saw Emma’s photograph.
A four year old with dark curls standing beside Thomas at the Boston Common carousel.
Elise stopped.
“That’s her?”
“Yes.”
“She looks like you.”
“People said she had Clare’s nose.”
Clare stood behind them.
Elise asked:
“Where are her toys?”
Thomas’s throat tightened.
“Some upstairs.”
“Can I see?”
Clare went white.
Thomas waited.
Maya’s voice from earlier:
Do not use Elise to force your grief.
Clare whispered:
“Not today.”
Elise shrugged.
“Okay.”
No tantrum.
No offense.
That somehow made Clare cry after the visit.
“I said no to a child about a room.”
“You’re allowed.”
“What kind of mother…”
“Clare.”
“She looked at me like it didn’t matter.”
“Because she knows what no means.”
Clare wiped her face.
“That’s not supposed to make me feel worse.”
The caseworker’s preliminary report was cautious.
Thomas had strong resources.
Both adults stable.
Marriage strained by grief.
Motivation required continued assessment.
House needed accessibility modifications or alternative residence.
Clare’s ambivalence significant but improving.
No placement yet.
Thomas accepted.
Then St. Michael’s called.
Elise had a medical appointment.
A possible hip surgery had moved sooner.
Not emergency.
But the orthopedic surgeon wanted additional imaging.
Thomas asked if he could attend.
Mrs. Dupont said:
“Only if Elise wants.”
She did.
At Boston Children’s, Elise sat between Nurse Ada and Thomas.
The surgeon explained surgery might improve positioning and prevent pain, not make her walk.
Elise asked:
“Will it hurt?”
“Yes, afterward.”
“Will I go back to the home?”
Nurse Ada took her hand.
“Yes.”
Elise’s face closed.
Thomas understood.
Hospital was not what frightened her most.
Returning afterward.
“Can I visit?”
She looked at him.
“If you’re still doing paperwork.”
“I’ll still be doing paperwork.”
“Okay.”
That night Thomas received an email from the adoption agency.
The next phase of home study had been approved.
At the bottom:
Once both prospective parents provide written intent to continue, St. Michael’s may release supplemental historical records under its agreement with Elise Harper’s birth mother.
Thomas looked at Clare.
She read.
“The envelope.”
“Yes.”
Clare was silent.
Then:
“I’ll sign.”
Thomas looked at her.
“Because you want Elise?”
“No.”
He waited.
“Because I want to know whether I can become someone who does.”
May you like
It was not the answer he wanted.
It was honest enough to keep going.
