by Seven Steps
I sighed and nodded, “Yes.”
Her smile grew. “Good. Now let me out of this door before I’m late. And please check in on your sister. She’s having a hard time right now. I feel it in her. But she’ll get through. We’ll all get through this the way we get through everything else. As a family.”
My chest felt tight, but I stepped out of Ms. Tuck’s way and let her out the door. The sound of her descending footsteps sent my mood into a worried spiral of misery.
She’d lost her job? What would we do? She said she had a pension but was it enough? Would I have to work? Would we have to move into a cheaper apartment? Would I have to switch schools?
I slid down the walls, my hands sliding down my face.
Poor Ms. Tuck had taken care of us for so long, and now look at us? She had to take a second job just to make ends meet.
Anxiety swam in my gut, making me want to vomit.
What about the checks? She received for me? Where did that money go? What about Lindsey’s contribution to rent? Would all of that be enough? What did it take to run this house every month?
My teeth grinded against each other.
There were so many questions running through me that I could barely keep still.
I needed some answers before I went crazy.
I stood and went straight into Ms. Tucks’ room. She kept a heavy, metal filing cabinet in the corner next to her bed and, at the bottom of the filing cabinet, was the bill drawer. Ms. Tuck was a stickler for keeping an organized, up to date file on everything. Every bill was on order and organized by date, along with little tabs at the top that showed whatever needed to be paid or was past due.
I skimmed through, keeping my eye out for the red tabs that would show me how deep in the hole my family actually was. And I found them in the very last folder marked, mortgage.
Mortgage? What mortgage?
I pulled out the yellow manila folder, opened it, and peered inside.
To my surprise, what we were living in was not a rented apartment. The entire building had been converted into condos at some point and Ms. Tuck was paying a mortgage for this place. It boggled my mind that she would be paying a mortgage for something so small. How out of the loop was I that I didn’t know my own building had become a condominium? Shouldn’t there have been a sign or something? The front of the building still only had our building number on it.
I read through further.
Apparently, we were three months behind on the mortgage. Each letter ended with Past Due printed in bold black letters.
How much longer until the entire amount was due? What if she couldn’t pay it, especially now that she was just down to a pension and a part time gig at a grocery store? Would we be back to where we were before? Homeless?
I put the folder on the floor and started at the front of the drawer again, slowly looking through the file names.
Gas.
Electric.
Cable.
Telephone.
Medical.
Foster.
Adoption.
I paused. Adoption?
I pulled out the folder and read it through.
Tears formed in the corner of my eyes, and it was all I could do to sniff them back.
For the six months, Ms. Tuck had been working on collecting the proper funds, and paperwork, to adopt my sister and me. I didn't even know you could adopt an eighteen-year-old. She’d hired a lawyer and everything.
Was that why she was behind on the mortgage payments? Because all of her money was going into the adoption fund? What did that mean for our future? For her? For us?
I grabbed the manila folders and closed the drawers.
There was one person who defiantly needed to see what was in these folders.
And she was going to be pretty shocked when she did.
8
I knocked once, then opened Lindsey’s room door. She was sitting next to her closet, fiddling with something I couldn’t see inside.
“What are you doing?” I asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind me.
She jumped, her eyes wide, then put her hand over her heart.
“God, Al! You scared the crap out of me.”
“What are you-?”
I stepped deeper into the room and froze.
There, sitting in her open closet, was not one, but two book bags full of money. Apparently, I’d caught my sister counting and putting rubber bands around stacks of one hundred dollar bills.
Panic and rage swept through me.
“You were supposed to take the money back!” I shouted at her. “You said you were taking the money back!”
“I did go to take it back!” She shouted back, jumping to a standing position. Her hair had pulled free from its normal ponytail, making her appear wild.
“So why do you have another bag of money?”
“Because there was another stack of it in the tree when I got there.”
“So you took it?”
“What else was I supposed to do?”
“Leave it there!” I tossed the manila folders on the bed and paced the room, running my fingers through my short brown hair. “What if this was all a trap? What if they followed you home?”
“No one followed me anywhere,” she said.
The confidence in her voice worried me. “How could you possible know that?”
“Because I checked.”
“You know how to check for tails now?”
“When you grow up on the streets, you always check for tails.”
“Are you crazy?” I asked. “That life is over. No one is tailing us anymore. We’re just two regular kids, and we have been for years.”
“Some things you don’t forget,” she replied.
I stared at my sister, unsure if I should lock her in a mental institution or run a drug test.
“Why aren’t you worried?”
She shrugged.
“What’s there to be worried about? Someone keeps leaving money in a secret location and I keep finding it. Simple.”
“And you’re not worried that someone is going to find out you tried to take it and come to get it back?”
She shrugged. “Nope.”
Anger drove me forward, and I wrapped my hands around my sister’s forearms. She was lying to me. Again. She’d been lying to me from the start.
“Tell me what’s going on, right now,” I growled.
She shook her head, but I didn’t miss the panic in her eyes. “Nothing is going on.”
“Something is going on. You knew that this money would be there, and you knew that whatever happened your hands would be clean of it. So, tell me what you know or else.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Or else what?”
“Or else I’ll… I’ll…. I’ll go to the cops.”
It was a hollow threat. Apparently, Lindsey saw straight through it. I could tell by her snort.
“You’re threatening to turn in your own sister?”
“I’ll do it.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
She stared at me, holding my gaze. Calling my bluff.
I tried to keep my poker face intact but it was no use. I released her, and took a step back, furious at her triumphant smile.
“Chill out, Al. Stick with me, and just pretend you never saw this money.”
I turned away from her, dropped my head forward, and put my hands on my hips.
Lindsey was in trouble. I knew it deep in my gut. And the worst part was that she refused to even tell me what was going on so that I could help her. She didn’t seem the least concerned that whomever she stole this money from would come back to claim it.
And maybe do something horrible to her in the interim.
“What’s this?” She asked. I heard her bed squeak as she sat down.
“What’s what?” I replied shortly.
“She’s behind on the mortgage?” she asked.
I turned then, and the original purpose of me coming in here resurfaced in my m
ind. The second bag of money threw me off.
“Yeah, uh, I came to tell you.”
She shook her head. “See. I told you something was up with her. She’s probably pocketing all the foster money and planning a trip to Fiji or something.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“How am I ridiculous? Because I’m telling you the truth?”
“No. Because you don’t even know what you’re talking about. Tuck lost her job at the social security office. Now she’s working nights at the grocery store to try to make ends meet. And to adopt us.”
Her eyes went wide, then turned to hateful slits.
“You’re lying.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Check the file.”
“I don’t need to check the file. I know here. I’ve known people like her my whole life. Adults that just use you and throw you away when they’re done taking what they can get. You may think that Tuck’s different but she’s not. She’s just more of the same.”
“She’s not going to throw you away. Will you stop thinking like that? Tuck’s only tried to be nice to you for years and you just blow her off.”
“Yes. Because I’m not a naive sap just waiting for my heart to get broken when she dumps us.”
“I’m not a sap.”
“Sure you are. Eating all her food, accepting all of her gifts. Your little hugs on the way to school. You may think that I don’t notice, but I do. I see everything around here. You want so badly for her to be your mom that you can’t think straight. But guess what. She’s not mom.”
“That’s right. She’s not mom. She’s not going to be a homeless junkie.”
“Don’t you talk about mom that way.”
“It’s the truth. That’s how they died. They both overdosed on heroine. You know it just as well as I do. We both saw the file. So don’t sit here and try to make them out to be saints, because they weren’t.”
“They may have not been perfect but they loved us.”
“Not enough to quit using.”
Her lower lip quivered and she looked away.
I pressed on.
“You are willing to forgive mom and dad for being pretty crap parents. But Tuck comes along and she tries, she really tries, and you won’t give her the time of day. It makes me sick, and it makes her sick too. Why are you like that, huh?”
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“Because I am not going to be abandoned again.” A single tear drifted down her cheek, and my heart immediately softened. My anger leeched out of me, leaving me tired. “First mom and dad, then all of those foster parents who promised we’d be a family then returned us. Then… I’m not going to let another adult dump me. No way.”
She angrily brushed away a tear, and crossed her arms over her chest.
A frown pulled at my face that seemed like it would stay forever. My voice turned soft.
“Open the folder,” I said.
She shook her head. “No. There isn’t anything I want to see in there.”
“Lindsey.”
“No, Alex. I won’t do it.”
“Lindsey look at me.”
She blinked, but didn’t move her gaze.
“Lindsey, please. Look at me.”
She paused, then let out a long sigh before finally looking in my direction.
“Open the folder. Please.”
Hurt and anger passed over her face. Then, she rolled her eyes, snatched up the folder, and flipped it open.
I stood there, watching Lindsey slowly turning the pages in the adoption folder with mixed expression.
First, there was surprise.
Then disbelief.
Then anger.
Her cheeks reddened, and shook. Her nostrils flared.
I don’t know how I expected her to react. Whatever I expected, it wasn’t this.
Tears slid down her face as my sister began to cry.
And not the single, dainty tears.
Full on waterworks.
Right before my eyes, my sister completely fell apart, and it broke my heart.
I uncrossed my arms and sat down next to her, pulling her into a hug.
“It’s all right, Lindsey,” I said, plucking the folders from her fingers and placing them on her nightstand.
“Why did she do this?” Lindsey asked between bouts of weeping. “Why did she have to care? I tried to long to hate her, and now she goes and does this. Why does she have to care?”
I pulled my sister closer, understanding her then.
Lindsey thought that the world was out to steal everything away from her, just as it had stolen our parents. Ms. Tuck was a part of that world. It was beyond Lindsey’s comprehension that someone could be so selfless. Ms. Tuck tried to show it with her words but that wasn’t enough. She had finally shown it in her deeds, and it blew Lindsey’s perception of the world apart.
“I was so mean to her,” she sobbed. “And she still wanted to adopt me. What am I supposed to do now?”
“Besides not be a brat anymore?” I asked.
She snorted through her tears, the dark cloud finally lifting from her. Her arms went around my neck, and she wiped her nose on my shoulder. I tried not to be grossed out by this.
We fell into companionable silence for what seemed like forever. Then, Lindsey spoke up again.
“We have to help her,” I said. “We can’t let her lose the condo.”
“What about our nest egg?” she asked, her tears finally slowing.
“We won’t spend all of it. Just enough to pay off the condo. It’s the least we can do. That I can do.”
Her eyes slid to the bags of money in her closet. “I didn’t intend on spending any of it until we’d left town,” she said softly. “When we were in Mexico or China or South African.”
“Lindsey, if we don’t pay this bill, we’ll be on the streets.”
“I know.”
“We have to help her.”
“I know.” She bit her thumb, thinking about my words. Finally, she said, “Okay. Fine. Just not all of it, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Relief flooded me. We wouldn’t be homeless after all.
“I’ll make a trip to the bank tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll open an account. Deposit the money, then call the mortgage company and pay off the loan.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I have to tie up a few things along the way anyway.”
I nodded. “Anything I can help with?”
She shook her head. “Nothing you should be concerned about.”
I stood, and grabbed the folders from the table, feeling much better walking in here than I did walking out. “Okay. It’s a plan. We’ll pay off the condo tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” She stood too, and went to stand in front of the closet again, looking tired and lost. “It’s a plan.”
9
“Ugh, this is torture,” Cassia said in sixth period study hall the next day.
“What is?”
“Grant still hasn’t asked me to junior prom. What is he waiting for?”
I shrugged. “Maybe it’s for the best.”
“The best? I can’t go to junior prom alone. Everyone will think I’m a total loser.” She put her head in her hands and leaned her elbows on the worn, wooden table. Study Hall took place in the library. All the tables were wooden and dated, like they’d been here since the school was built. Every desk had at least one piece of gum on the bottom and initials inside of hearts on the top.
“I’ll bet he’s going to ask Dana Rich. That snob.” She blew out a puff of air. “Waiting sucks! Why can’t girls be like guys and just ask the guys out? What is with all these rules, you know?”
“You’d ask Grant to Jr. Prom?”
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yes. Maybe. I guess. I don’t know. I just don’t want to go by myself and Grant is already father approved, you know? If anyone else asked me I’d have to pass them by my dad, and my dad is the king of the
ball busters.”
“Except when it comes to Grant.”
She nodded. “Yes. Except when it comes to Grant.”
“What’s up with that?”
“My dad and Grant’s dad were best friends growing up. They went to high school together. College. My dad is Grants god father.”
“So, he knows him pretty well?”
“Yeah. Really well.”
I sighed. “For the record, you shouldn’t have to ask guys out, no matter how well you know him. You’re better that that.”
She laughed shortly. “Oh really. Would you tell that to the myriads of guys who’ve asked me out?”
“Other guys have asked you out?”
Her eyes turned sad and pitiful. I wished I could just tell her how I felt, but where would that lead us? I was no Grant. Her father would never approve of me.
“No. No guys have asked me. Maybe Grant was never going to either. Maybe I’m just kidding myself.” She leaned back in her chair. “How big of a loser am I that I can’t even get a date to junior prom. It’s pathetic.”
I don’t know what came over me, but I took her hands in mine and looked deep into her eyes.
“There is nothing pathetic about you. You’re intelligent, kind, and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes. You have everything in the world going for you, even if this Grant jerk doesn’t know it. Any guy would be honored to take you to junior prom because you’re amazing. Remember that. You are amazing.”
My heart felt like it was ready to burst from my chest.
Her hands were so soft.
Her eyes go green.
Her mouth opened slightly, draining her lungs with a whoosh of air.
It took all I had in me not to bring my lips to hers and give every molecule of air back.
“That was probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she said softly.
I smiled.
If this girl was mine, I’d write sonnets for her every day.
I squeezed her hand. “I’m just saying what every guy is thinking.”
What I’ve always been thinking.
“You know, guys don’t… I mean… I’m not.” She squeezed her lips together and let out a puff of air through her nose. “I’m not the skinniest girl in the world. Some of the girls in the locker room call me Ms. Piggy. So, when you say things like that, and I tell you that I’ve never heard them before, I want you to believe it.”