Free Vital Signs by Bobby Hutchinson

My grandpa and my father and two of my brothers are lawyers. Roy, of course, is a social worker. Two aunts are doctors, and one cousin went into politics. Me, I’m the blacksheep, a throwback to earlier times. I went into law to fulfil family tradition, but I was born with the good earth under my fingernails. My first memory is pulling up my grandmother’s daffodils to see how big the bulbs were.”
    â€œSo when are you going to follow your heart and start your own gardening business?” Hailey asked.
    Nicole sighed. “Soon, I hope. Someday soon.” She turned the conversation back to Hailey. “How old were you when you knew you wanted to be a nurse?”
    â€œEleven.”
    â€œAnd? How come so young?” Nicole wasn’t about to let her off the hook with a one-word answer.
    Hailey shrugged. “My dad had a heart attack that year. He was in hospital a week before he died, and the nurses were so good to my sister and me. I developed a huge crush on them. And once I was in training, I knew right away I wanted to work in pediatrics.” She flashed her wide smile again. “I never really wanted to grow up, see, and being around kids all the time is a great way to avoid it.”
    â€œNone of your own?” Roy found he was curious about her, about whether she was married or had a live-in lover.
    He was about to butter more bread when the waitress set a plate heaped with vegetables and baked salmon in front of him. He eyed it with unabated hunger.
    â€œNot yet.” Hailey shook her head. “I’m single. But I really want a family of my own, so I’ve appliedfor single-parent adoption. It’s just taking longer than I thought to get the paperwork finished.”
    â€œWow, that’s so brave of you.” Nicole’s voice reflected her admiration. “I’ve thought lots of times about doing the same thing, but I’ve never gone further than daydreaming about it. Tell me how the process works. Are there many restrictions?”
    Roy ate and listened, amazed. He knew Nicole loved kids, but he’d never heard her admit that she’d even considered single-parent adoption.
    â€œNot anymore,” Hailey said. “Oh, you have to prove there’ll be male input into the child’s life, some sort of father figure. And of course you have to show that you’ll be able to love the child unconditionally and that you’re able to put a roof over its head. But that’s about all. You can either go for a private adoption or through Social Services. There’s a significant difference financially, which was the determining factor for me. Social Services is cheaper. It can cost up to a thousand for a child under the age of three, but if you take a kid over that age, it’s free. And if you feel you can manage an emotionally, mentally or physically disabled child, there’s not as long a waiting period as there is for a newborn. Privately you’ll pay upward of ten thousand for a baby.” She added in an apologetic tone, “Here I am going on about it when Roy’s an expert. He can probably tell you a lot more about it than I can.”
    â€œNot really.” He shook his head. “I’m not involved much with the department that handles adoptions. I deal more with kids in trouble.”
    â€œSo which route are you taking, Hailey?” Nicole ate the last of her dinner and pushed her plate away.
    â€œSocial services. I couldn’t begin to afford the private-adoption thing. When I decided that I was going to adopt, I bought a little house over near Main Street. Real-estate agent called it a fixer-upper, but that was stretching the truth.” She laughed. “It was more of a tear-downer, but by the time I’d figured that out, I’d already put money and energy into it. It’s a real money pit, but I still love it. I’ve spent so much at Home Depot I’d buy shares if I had any cash