The Yellow Sock: An Adoption Story by Angela Hunt Page A

I’ve got a lot of reading to catch up on. My baby is three months old, and I need to know what to expect at this age.”
    The doctor’s blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “I know I should offer my congratulations,” he said, crossing his arms, “but it won’t be easy to replace you. Are you sure I can’t talk you in to coming back to work after you’ve had some time to adjust?”
    Megan shook her head. “Thank you, sir, but no. I’ve worked so hard to be a mother, and waited so long . . . I don’t want to miss a minute of the experience. And my daughter will need me, so I want to be with her every minute I can.”
    Dr. Duncan’s mouth drooped in a one-sided smile. “I think this is one lucky baby.”
    Megan shook off the compliment and returned to the desk, then pulled her pocket-sized calendar from her purse and marked off another day. It was August 1—little Danielle had been born on the ninth of April, so she was almost four months old.
    Megan sighed. Infancy flew by so quickly! Susan had said Danielle was already a big baby, so if she didn’t come home soon Megan might never know what it felt like to hold an infant in her arms . . .
    She shook off the thought. She would harbor no regrets, for God had obviously brought this child to them in His timing and for His reasons.
    Her eyes fell upon a calendar date marked with a red circle—the day for Helen Gresham’s home visit. Korean regulations required the U.S. placement agency to visit the couple’s home at least once, so Helen would have to fly to Alta Vista. Megan felt certain the visit would be uneventful—they liked Helen from the moment of meeting her, and Belinda Bishop had already approved their home. So this would be a perfunctory meeting.
    Megan looked up and smiled as Mrs. Leber came through the veterinary clinic door, her arms filled with a wicker basket in which a new passel of puppies scrambled upward. “Mrs. Leber,” she called, grinning. “Has that Chihuahua been visiting your yard again?”
     
     
    Dave lowered himself to the sofa and bit his lip as he heard Megan singing in the kitchen. She’d been talkative and excited all through dinner, telling him about Dr. Duncan and what he’d said when she told him she planned to leave in two weeks. From that topic she bounced to the news that his sister in New Orleans had promised to send a box of baby clothes her daughter had outgrown. She’d mailed it a couple of days ago, and the package would arrive at any time.
    “I think there are a lot of people who really feel involved with us,” Megan had told him, her eyes shining. “Most of these people have been waiting and praying with us for years. I know it sounds silly, because nearly every baby is loved and anticipated, but I can’t help feeling that ours has been more anticipated than most. Well—anticipated longer than most, in any case.”
    Dave had let her chatter and ramble, remembering to nod and smile in all the right places, but he breathed a sigh of relief when dinner ended and she rose to stack their plates and do the dishes. He emptied the garbage, fulfilling his part of the dinner deal, then moved to the living room and picked up the newspaper.
    But he couldn’t concentrate on the articles before his eyes. He couldn’t think about anything but the trouble looming over his school.
    He had chosen not to teach during this summer break for two reasons—he wanted to be free if they got a baby, and he wanted to be available if he was named to fill the vacancy created by Dr. Comfort’s retirement. Though the start of the new school year was only three weeks away, the school board had not yet made any official appointments. They were meeting throughout the week, and things were supposed to be settled soon.
    But how? The question nagged at him.
    That afternoon he’d heard rumors that the recently commissioned demographic report indicated a shrinking elementary student population in the area zoned for Valley View—and