Free Elizabeth's Daughter by Thea Thomas

you,” Elizabeth went on, putting her tea cup on the coffee table,  “I don’t consider the idea of moving a few glass items and getting baby gates on the stairway and putting a wall around the patio too much to expect. On the contrary, I’d enjoy it immensely. Anything that has to do with being a good parent, I can’t wait to do.”
      Mrs. Vargas nodded in her soothing manner. “Well, that’s good.” She gathered her things together and put them back in her briefcase. “Thank you for the tea, Miss Morris, and for letting me see your lovely home.” She stood and extended her hand. “I’ll take a few days to evaluate the interview... and I hope you do the same.”
      Elizabeth followed Mrs. Vargas to the door, thanked her for coming and closed the door behind her. But her movements were automatic. She felt sure she’d been given an extremely polite “no,” and she was failing at convincing herself that it was not something to cry over.

Chapter X

    Three weeks later, after Elizabeth had tried hard to give up the idea of becoming a foster parent – three weeks of not entering her carpet room because she didn’t want to have to look at the pastel baby carpet she’d begun on the loom – she came home from work to find a message on her answering machine from Mrs. Vargas asking Elizabeth to return her  call.
      She dialed the number Mrs. Vargas had left as her home telephone number before she even took her purse off her shoulder.
      “Hello?” Mrs. Vargas’ calm voice answered.
      “Hello, Mrs. Vargas, this is Elizabeth Morris. I just got your message.”
      “Oh, Miss Morris, I’m glad to hear from you. I have some news. We have a baby girl who needs a foster home.”
      Elizabeth caught her breath.
      “Before you say anything,” Mrs. Vargas went on, “there are details you must know... that you have to consider. The baby is nine months old, she is very sweet-natured, but she is handicapped. She was born with talipes.”
      Talipes?” Elizabeth asked.
      “Yes. Club-footed, in lay language. She will have to have surgery in the near future.”
      “Oh, goodness,” Elizabeth said, taken aback.
      “The poor baby has become orphaned since you and I last spoke,” Mrs. Vargas went on. “Would you like to see her?”
       Elizabeth hesitated, and the silence seemed to roar. “Do you think I’m capable of coping with such special circumstances?”
      “Miss Morris, you were the one who implied you’d do anything to be a foster parent.”
      “And I would,” Elizabeth said emphatically. “But I’m thinking of the baby. I might not be able to... “
      “I appreciate your caution Miss Morris,” Mrs.Vargas said agreeably, “but the reason the board and I decided to give you a try with this particular case is because of your background in dealing with your grandfather frequently in and out of the hospital.”
      “I see,” Elizabeth said. They were “giving her a try.” It was an audition, except with a child’s life as a stage prop. This would not be the moment to tell Mrs. Vargas about her loathing of hospitals... that just to drive by UCI Medical Center on the freeway gave her a rush of nausea.
      “Additionally,” Mrs. Vargas went on, “there happens to be a nanny available who couldn’t come more highly recommended. I know her personally and her record is excellent. She’s worked with handicapped children before. She’s a resourceful,hard-working, reliable person.” Mrs. Vargas paused for a moment. “Of course the foster care check is unlikely to cover the expenses of the child and the nanny....”
      “I don’t care about that!” Elizabeth burst out, incensed. “Goodness!”
      “Well, that’s what I thought,” Mrs. Vargas said. “Anyway, I know this is a lot to throw at you all at once, but it came up so suddenly. Gail, the nanny, just called today to let me know she was available.”
      “I see,” Elizabeth said, at a loss for words. At a