by Susan Wiggs
Hearing the sadness in her son’s voice, she wanted to cry, too. “We weren’t really…meant for each other,” she said. “I think we both realized that and went our separate ways.”
He still didn’t break his rhythm with the paddles. “That’s dumb.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because JD likes you. He even likes me.”
“Don’t be silly. Everyone likes you.”
“Yeah, right. I realize I’m supposed to be stupid and all—”
“Aaron—”
“But I know more than you think I know.”
“I think you know a lot.”
“Like he’s perfect for us,” Aaron said, “and it stinks that you ran him off.”
“I didn’t run him off. He left of his own accord, and there’s no point expecting him to come back. Even if that’s what I wanted, it’s not going to happen. It’s better this way, Aaron, better that it happened sooner rather than later. The two of us realized we’re better off keeping our distance.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.”
“It is not. It’s simple. He liked us, Mom. He wanted to be with us. I bet he was starting to love us, even. It’s not like that happens every day.”
Kate nearly dropped her paddle. Who was this person, sounding so grown up and sure of himself?
“Nobody was starting anything,” she said. What a liar I am, she realized. No wonder Aaron was so skeptical of everything she said. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “There are lots of kinds of love, buddy. Some kinds are made to last a lifetime, like the way I love you. And some last just one summer, and then you let go and move on. Trust me, we’re better off like this. Just the two of us.”
“Right, Mom.”
They paddled along in quiet contemplation. By working the foot pedals, she steered them in the opposite direction from JD’s place. She tried to keep herself from looking over there, but she was helpless to resist. Don’t look, she told herself. Whatever you do, don’t look.
She looked.
Although they were some distance away, she could see JD in the yard, cutting the grass with a push mower. He’d taken off his shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans so that it hung down behind him. Sunlight flickered over his sinewy brown arms, strong legs, big shoulders. She couldn’t help remembering what it felt like to have those arms around her, or hearing his voice whispering in her ear, or seeing his face lose its usual guarded look when he smiled at her. It hit her then that Aaron was right. She did miss JD and something had been starting between them, something good and real that she should have nurtured and cherished rather than distrusted, questioned and then dismissed. It was too late now, though. Wasn’t it?
“Anyway,” Aaron continued, “it’s not just the two of us. Callie makes three.”
“For the summer, anyway,” she said.
“She could stay with us longer,” Aaron stated.
Kate had been thinking about that very idea. “That’s possible. Something to discuss, anyway.”
“Who needs to discuss it? We adopted Bandit. We could adopt Callie, too.”
Kate knew she should never be startled by anything Aaron said, but he always managed to surprise her. “I’ve been thinking about the end of summer,” Kate told him. “Not about adopting her—that’s not possible yet. But if Child Protective Services approves, we could be her foster family. It’s just an idea, though. We—all three of us—need to talk about whether or not it’s the right choice for Callie and how it would work.”
“It would work, no problem.”
She had to smile at his simple logic. “Teenagers are a lot of work.”
“So was Bandit. So am I.”
Kate frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“C’mon, Mom. You missed so much work trying to keep up with all the school meetings and sports and stuff about me that you finally lost your job, but you didn’t care because I’m more important than any job.” He sent her a knowing glance over his shoulder. “How am I doing?”
“I’m speechless.”
“Are not.”
“True. So are you saying that you think you’re a lot of trouble?”
“I know I am.”
Kate had been so young when she’d been faced with her unplanned pregnancy, yet she still remembered the mingled wonder, horror, joy and terror that had filled her when a home test confirmed her suspicions. After Nathan stepped out of the picture, she had considered both abortion and adoption. Neither option felt right for her. She’d kept Aaron, welcomed him with open arms, and she was grateful for that every day. Your boy is a blessing, JD had said. No matter what happened after, she would always remember that he had told her that.
“Do you also know you’re a lot of joy?” she asked Aaron.
“Yep. That’s why I’m saying it would work to be Callie’s family.”
“For us. It would work for you and me.”
“Right.”
“Do you think it would work for Callie?”
“I don’t know about that.”
Neither did Kate. “That’s why nobody’s mind is made up,” she said to Aaron. “I need to talk to her about it. Then we have to let Callie decide how she feels about this.”
“You can do that right now,” Aaron said, pointing his paddle toward the house.
She was coming down the driveway as the county transit bus lumbered away. Bandit leaped at the girl in greeting, barking ecstatically. She squatted and petted him, letting him lick her face. Watching them as the kayak glided up to the dock, Kate felt a strong tug of affection. Callie had been a member of this family all summer. This didn’t have to end.
After lunch, a FedEx truck arrived with a small, flat package. “This is a tough location to find,” the driver said as Kate signed for the parcel.
“That’s what we like about it.” Kate smiled, though when she saw who the sender was, her stomach clenched with apprehension. She went back into the house to find Callie and Aaron just finishing up the lunch dishes. Aaron dashed outside before she could assign him any more chores.
“Who was that?” asked Callie.
Kate didn’t answer right away. She brought her laptop computer to the kitchen table, then handed Callie the package.
“Oh,” said Callie, her voice soft and nervous-sounding. Her hand trembled a little as she opened the package, which contained a shiny CD.
Kate put the disk into the drive and almost forgot to breathe while the thing booted up.
“These are going to suck, I just know it,” Callie murmured.
Kate didn’t say anything. Knowing how fragile Callie was, Kate prayed the photographs wouldn’t hurt her more, but the potential was there. In her years at the paper, she’d seen her share of harsh and unflattering shots. But this was Vanity Fair, she told herself. The magazine used the best photographers in the business.
The first image flickered onto the screen, and Kate slowly let out her breath. She glanced over at Callie, who appeared mesmerized.
“Well,” said Kate. “I guess the suspense is over, eh?”
As they scrolled through the photos, Kate’s heart soared. The pictures had a lyrical quality, which captured the richness of the lakeside setting in all its majesty. Gilded by the light of sunset, the background resembled an idealized painting, something Maxfield Parrish might have done. Yet as captivating as the lake and mountains were, the true star of the photos was Callie herself. Somehow, the talented photographer’s lens had found her toughness, but also her vulnerability. The photos showed Callie as her best self. She had not been glamorized by special effects or touching up, but instead, she was depicted with a stark, unsparing honesty that suited her much better.
“I think that’s my favorite,” Kate said, indicating a shot of Callie looking up slightly into the camera’s eye. The picture captured her intelligence and sadness, yet the slight curve of her mouth hinted at a sturdy sense of humor. Kate had an urge to rush over to JD’s place, to sh
ow him the pictures like a proud mother. She killed the impulse, of course. JD would hate the pictures no matter how beautiful they turned out. His stubborn disapproval was wedged between them, cold and immovable. He was being ridiculous.
Yet he made her question herself constantly. Was this an invasion of Callie’s privacy for profit? Or would the piece illuminate a life in a way that would affect people when they read it?
“I’m so excited,” Callie said, scrolling through the pictures again. “These are better than I ever thought they could be.”
“You’re beautiful,” Kate told her. “These pictures truly do you justice.” Impulsively, she touched the girl’s hand, and for once, Callie didn’t flinch. “I’m so glad you’re getting your health back,” she added.
“Every time I start getting ticked off at you for being the diet and exercise Nazi, I remind myself of that.”
“Am I a Nazi about it?”
“You’re pretty bossy. It’s okay, though.”
“That’s the only way I know how to be a parent.” It just slipped out. Kate wondered if Callie had noticed. If she did, she didn’t say anything.
They finished oohing and aahing over the photographs, then got ready for their afternoon walk, a four-mile loop to the end of the road and then back to East Beach. Though Aaron groused about not being allowed to ride his bike, he gamely took the lead, holding the dog’s leash and darting ahead. At the end of the walk, they stopped for a break at the beach. Callie and Kate sat side by side on a picnic bench, sipping from their water bottles. Unwilling to keep still, Aaron went down by the water to dig trenches and tunnels for his trucks in the sand, whistling tunelessly as he worked.
“He’s an awesome kid,” Callie said after a while.
Startled, Kate smiled at her. “I think so, too.”
“He’s always busy. The kids in the foster homes where I lived sat around watching TV all the time.”
“Which is one reason I haven’t had a TV since he was three years old. He started singing the Clorox-bleach song in the grocery store one day, and that did it for me. I got rid of the set that day, and now I only borrow one every four years to watch the Olympics. Could be a huge mistake, I don’t know. Sometimes I think raising a child is like performing some enormous social experiment with no control group.”
Callie was quiet again, yet Kate could sense her need to talk. “How are things going? In your group and class?”
“My diabetes counselor says I’m doing a lousy job on my journal,” Callie said. “She wants me to work harder on taking notes on all my thoughts and feelings.”
“Have you done that yet?”
Callie shrugged. “I bore myself.”
“I can’t imagine that.”
“Hah. I should call the thing ‘Diary of a Whining Girl.’ Boring, I tell you. Glucose check, eat, work, sleep…repeat all over again.” She slid a glance at Kate, then looked down. “I wrote something else.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s just stupid.” She knotted her hands together. “Sometimes I wish I had the kind of life you and Aaron have. A life that will give me a chance.” She dropped her voice even lower. “All that love.”
Kate held her breath, kept in the words she wanted so badly to say. Take this slowly, she cautioned herself. “You’ll need to make some decisions soon. In the fall, you’re going back to school.”
“No way. I’m getting a job.”
“Your job is to be a good student.”
“Like that would help me?”
“Better than working off the books and hiding out,” Kate said. “I know it’s harsh, Callie, but you have to face facts. By the end of summer, you’ll need to figure out what you intend to do about your living situation.”
“I don’t need to figure anything out. I’ll just take it day by day, like I was before I met you guys.”
“Sleeping in unheated houses,” Kate reminded her. “Starving one day, overeating the next. According to Dr. Randall, that’s a major contributing factor to your condition.”
“I’m sick of hearing about my freaking condition,” Callie snapped. “I’m sick of thinking about the freaking future.”
“Are you scared?”
“Screw you, Kate. Just…screw you.” Callie shot to her feet and stalked away.
Kate refused to let herself feel hurt. Instead, she got up very slowly and approached Callie. She didn’t touch her, just asked the question again. “Are you scared?”
Callie’s shoulders slumped. “All the time.” She turned to face Kate, and her face looked pale and stiff with apprehension. “Listen, I spent a long time with my counselor yesterday,” she said. “A really, really long time.”
Finally the truth was coming out, Kate realized. This was it.
“We talked about my options for next year. She wants me to consider a group home.”
Kate didn’t let herself react, though her heart plummeted. She couldn’t stand the thought of Callie with a group of other kids, some of them even tougher than she was. “How do you feel about that?” she asked.
“Now you sound like the freaking counselor.”
“I’m not trying to counsel you. I just want to know.”
Callie paced back and forth on the bank. “I’ve heard it’s not as bad as it sounds. It’ll keep me from having to adjust to a new family. That’s a plus, because fitting in with a family is something I’m not real good at.”
Kate tried to keep herself calm. It was time, she thought. She prayed she could bring up her idea without running Callie off. “I could argue with that,” she said.
“Well, thanks, but it’s looking like the group home is going to be it, until I can save up for a place of my own. Everyone I’ve talked to says it’s pretty okay.”
She sounded as though she was trying as hard as possible not to care one way or another.
“Don’t worry about ‘everyone,’” Kate said, not quite sure who that included. “That’s not what matters,” she pointed out. “What matters is making the best decision for you.”
“I don’t know how to do that.” Her voice trembled.
“What is it, Callie?” Kate asked her. “Something’s the matter. And it’s not just the group home.”
Callie studied the ground and mumbled something.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Luke dumped me.”
Kate made herself stay very still, showing no reaction as she pondered this development. Only a short time ago, Callie had been crazy about Luke. She thought he was her one shot at a normal life.
“I didn’t realize that,” Kate said, choosing her words with care. “I’m sorry.”
Callie shrugged her shoulders. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” Kate said.
“True.”
“Are you all right?”
“I guess. We were just friends. It’s not like he was the love of my life or anything. But it sucks that he was the only friend I had and now I don’t even have him.”
Kate understood. This was a girl who didn’t let herself get attached. Life had taught her that emotional ties were tenuous, and not to be trusted. “Oh, honey—”
“It’s no big deal.” Callie waved off her concern in a gesture so elaborately casual that Kate knew the girl’s heart was broken. “I didn’t really ever expect him to stick by me.” She sat down and drew her knee up to her chest, looped her arms around it. “No one ever does.”
“He’s an idiot,” Kate said. She tried to be light and sarcastic, but she knew what that pain felt like. She’d endured being dumped; she understood how it hurt. “Boys generally are. If you want to talk about—”
“I don’t need—” Callie broke off and her eyes filled, and Kate ached for her, knowing how hard she tried to keep it all in. Moments later, she was sobbing, a symphony of great, choking gasps and shudders, her entire body shuddering with sadness. A few people nearby looked at them but Callie was oblivious, and Kate didn�
�t care. She put her arms around the girl, stroked her hair and let her cry it out, and in that moment their connection was so strong that Kate could feel all of Callie’s grief, her doubts and her fears.
Callie struggled to talk even as she mopped her face with the edge of her shirt. “I just want to be normal for once in my life. I want to go to the movies with a boy and gab with my best friend on the phone and just…just be normal.”
“You’re better than normal. You’re amazing, I swear,” said Kate, and she meant it.
“You know what I mean.”
Kate did. Though she didn’t speak of it, Callie was thinking about the fact that her life had never been her own. She had survived a bizarre childhood, she’d been shuffled through a foster system that had failed her and now she was faced with raising herself alone with no support system, a terrifying disease and uncertain prospects.
“We should go back,” Callie said, and got up.
Kate called out for Aaron, who had found a group of kids to play with. He grabbed the dog’s leash and sped up the road ahead of them. Kate matched Callie stride for stride. It was time to say something, Kate knew. Past time. Do I want this? she wondered. Could I do this? Would she say yes?
Her throat felt tight. Callie would be like…a daughter. A sister for Aaron.
“I’ve been thinking,” Kate said. She glanced sideways at Callie, hoping her next words wouldn’t chase the girl off. Enough dancing around this, Kate thought. Just say it. “I applied to be a foster parent. I need to go back to Seattle for an interview with the King County CPS. Once I’m approved, you can live with us.”
Callie stumbled on the asphalt road but kept going.
Kate studied her shocked, disbelieving expression. The girl didn’t say anything.
“That is,” Kate went on, “if you want to. I know I’m not old enough to be your actual mother, but I can offer a stable home and my unflagging support, and that’s a promise.” She tried not to push too hard, but as soon as the words were out, she realized how much she wanted to be there for Callie during the all-important high-school years. The arrangement wouldn’t be easy for any of them, but it was the right thing to do. Kate felt it in her bones.