Jesus, the man was looking more and more like Orson Welles, Feldman thought. "So what brings you here?" he asked as Rick sat in the leather chair across from his desk. "I want to talk about open adoption," Rick said. "Which aspect of it?" "The prerequisites." "Do you mean for the birth mother or the adopting parents?" "Parents." "The prerequisites are whatever qualities the birth mother wants for the parents of her baby." "Meaning?" "Meaning I've placed babies with single parents, gay couples, a few couples who otherwise would be considered too old to adopt." "Which is how old?" "Forties. You want to hear the stories? I've got scrapbooks filled with them." "I'm nearly fifty." "So?" "Is that impossible?" "I don't follow." "Well, what's too old?" Rick asked, leaning forward. The dawn broke on Harvey Feldman's face. "Are you telling me that you're here to talk to me about you, yourself, wanting to adopt a baby?" There was a mixture of amusement and disappointment in his voice. Rick realized that the young lawyer with show-business fantasies had thought he'd come here to talk about stories that could be made into movies.
