“You’re not even interested in hearing my side?” I demanded. “You’re just going to assume I’m the one who did something wrong?”
She looked startled but only for a second.
“I’ve known the Wilsons for years,” she told me. “They’re one of my best foster families. You were lucky to be placed with them!”
“Lucky?” I laughed. I actually laughed. It was so incredibly ridiculous how blind she was. “So it was lucky that Robert decided to climb into my bed in the middle of the night?”
“That’s not true,” Cynthia said.
“It is. And you need to make sure you don’t send another kid in there.”
Cynthia looked over at me and then signaled. She pulled into a gas station and turned the engine off.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” she said.
I did. I told her about the hymns and the forced prayers. I told her about how Robert had stared at me. And the way he put his hands in my hair while I slept. And how he got into my bed. I told her why I had defended myself with the kitchen knife. She looked me in the eye and nodded but let me talk and didn’t interrupt once.
“Do you believe me?” I asked her. Might as well cut to the chase, I figured.
“I…I don’t know what to believe,” she admitted. At least she was honest. And she wasn’t dismissing me outright. “I’ve placed countless kids with them. No one has ever complained.”
“No one?” How is that possible?
She shook her head.
“So? What now?” I asked.
“Now? I take you to another foster home. And I suspend the Wilsons until I can investigate.”
“Really?” Truthfully, I had expected her to just side with them. Because none of what had happened to me or my grandmother was fair. Why should this be?
“Yes. I promise. And if anything like that happens to you again…call me. Day or night. I mean it, Lucky.”
“Okay.”
She started the car again and took off, her forehead creased in a frown.
“I forgot to tell you,” she glanced at me suddenly, “they’re moving your grandmother to a care facility.”
“What? Why didn’t the hospital call me? Someone should have let me know!”
“I’m sure they’re going to call. But I was at the hospital anyway so I checked in on her. I got the address. You can call her later.” She reached over into the bag on the console between us and pulled out a piece of paper. I took it from her.
“Sunset Seniors?” I choked. “Is that where they send people to die?”
“No! Of course not!”
“What’s their tagline? ‘Sunset Seniors: Where Seniors go for the Twilight of their Lives?’”
Cynthia laughed out loud, which made me giggle.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. It’s actually a really nice place. They specialize in dementia and Alzheimer’s care. They have special programs for their residents and all kinds of therapy. You can visit as soon as she’s settled. They’ll even help make arrangements for packing her things and selling her house.”
“Why would they sell it?” I felt my heart pounding in my throat. “They can’t do that, can they?”
“I assume they need to speak to your mother.”
Oh, shit.
“Why would they need to talk to her?”
“She’s your grandmother’s closest relative.”
“I’m my grandmother’s closest relative! What has my mother ever done except desert me? Or hurt my grandparents? I’ve been there. I took care of her when my grandfather died. My mother walked out and left us over and over again. She takes everything and leaves. That’s what she does.”
Cynthia nodded.
“Okay. Well…maybe your grandparents have a will or a directive or something. Someone needs to go through your house.”
“I’ll do it. I mean, if these people let me. I can go back and help pack her stuff up.”
“You’ll like them,” Cynthia promised.
Sure, I thought. I was almost positive she had said that about the Wilsons too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Another Family
I was taken into a house that looked a lot like the last one (minus all the religious paraphernalia) and up a flight of stairs that seemed to hold the exact same number of steps, into a bedroom that looked startlingly like the one I had just left. The walls were beige and devoid of any decorations. The single bed was covered in a nondescript blanket. There was a dresser and a night table holding a lamp. It was as soulless as a hotel room.
I had just set my backpack down on the bed when my phone pinged.
RYAN:I did it!
ME:Did what?
RYAN:I asked Thomas out!
ME:OMG! Tell me everything!
RYAN:When can I come over? I can fill you in then.
Oh shit.
ME:I’m not there anymore. They moved me.
RYAN:Bcuz of the pedo?
ME:Kinda. I’ll tell you later.
RYAN:U ok?
ME:Ya. I’ll txt l8tr
RYAN:Kk
I had been looking forward to seeing Ryan, and now that wasn’t happening. And they were moving Grandma. And selling my house maybe. I just wanted to crawl into bed and disappear. My own bed. Not this one, with its hard mattress that crackled when I sat down.
I stared at the wall, trying to decide if I should go downstairs or take my stuff out and put it in a drawer. It would all fit into just one. I took a deep breath and scrolled through my phone until I found my mother’s number. She was the last person I wanted to talk to. I’d actually be perfectly happy to never see her again.
It rang hollowly, and I pictured her rolling over in some crack den, completely strung out with her wannabe rock star boyfriend in a drugged-out stupor beside her.
“H’lo,” I heard her say. It sounded like I had it about right.
“Christina?”
“Mmm.”
I took that as a yes.
“It’s Lucky.”
There was a pause during which I was fairly certain she was trying to remember who I was.
“Your daughter?” How many people could she possibly know named Lucky?
“Hiiii!” she squealed like a kid. This was getting weird.
“So, I wanted to talk to you about Grandma’s house. I need to go and pack up some of her stuff and take it to her.”
“She’s in the hospital,” she said.
“Yes. Thank you. She’s not though. She’s going to be staying in a care facility for a while,” I told her. “Until she’s ready to go back home.”
“She’s not going home. The doctor said so.” God. She was infuriating. It was like talking to a petulant child.
“Yeah, well…the doctor is wrong. She’s going to get better and go home. So until then, we can’t do anything with the house. Okay?”
“If she’s not coming home, someone gets the house?”
“I don’t know,” I blew out a deep breath of complete frustration. “It depends if Grandma and Grandpa had a directive or something. But the point is, she’s not going to be in that place forever, and when she gets out, she’ll need to go home. Do you understand?”
“Yeah. I guess. But why are you telling me this?”
She sounded suspicious. That wasn’t good.
“Because you’re family,” I told her through clenched teeth.
“Yeah,” she said and hung up on me. I wasn’t sure if I had done more harm than good. If no one had even called her about the house, then I had just planted the seed in her head that she might now be a home owner.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Home #2
I was staring out the window at a block of houses that all looked exactly the same, on a street that could have been in
any suburb in Canada. I couldn’t have told you where in the city I was if you had held a gun to my head.
If I was even in the city at all anymore.
Someone knocked gently at the door.
“Yeah?”
The door cracked open and the foster parent du jour, Sarah, poked her head in.
“Hi, Lucky. Are you all settled in?” She looked at the backpack, still clearly crammed full of my stuff.
“Oh. Yeah. I was going to unpack later.”
She nodded and smiled.
“Dinner’s ready in ten. You’re off the hook for chores, being that it’s your first night. My husband, Edward, just got home, so wash up and come on down and meet everyone.”
“Okay. Be right there.”
I dug around in my backpack until I found the framed photos of Grandma and Grandpa, and I put them on the night table. This wasn’t home. It would never be home. But at least there was one thing that felt familiar in the room now.
The kitchen was a hotbed of activity when I walked in. There were two boys setting the table, while Sarah laughed at something one of them had said. I stood in the doorway and watched them, not wanting to intrude.
“Hi,” a soft voice came from just behind me. I spun around. After Robert, I didn’t like being surprised by anyone sneaking up on me. The guy behind me jumped back, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay,” I assured him.
“You’re Lucky, right?”
I nodded.
“Interesting name. Any idea where it came from?”
I wasn’t really interested in explaining the origins of my name to a complete stranger. People tended to look at you pretty strangely when they found out your druggie mom decided to name you Lucky because she hit the jackpot at the casino one night.
“Nope. No idea, actually.”
He smiled and held out his hand.
“I’m Edward.” He had a firm handshake for such a slight guy. He looked like an academic. Glasses and a tweed jacket. “We’re happy to have you join our family.”
“Thanks. But I’ll be going home as soon as my grandmother is better.”
He nodded.
“Well, you’re welcome here until then. Guys! Did you say hi to Lucky?”
The chaos around the table stopped as everyone turned to stare at me. I waved awkwardly at them.
“Ummm…hi.”
One of the boys nodded. The other came over and stood in front of me.
“’Sup? I’m Jake.”
“Hey. Lucky.”
“Is that short for something?”
“Nope. Just Lucky,” I told him. He nodded.
“Cool name.” He smiled. “That’s Charlie. He doesn’t talk much.”
“I talk,” the other boy said. “Sometimes.”
“He does,” Jake said. “But only if you happen to be into the same nerd stuff he’s into.”
I looked over at Charlie and looked him up and down.
“DC or Marvel?” I asked him. His face lit up, and he met my eyes for the first time.
“Marvel! All the way.” He grinned.
“That is the right answer,” I agreed. “Have you been reading the new Spider-Man?”
“Nah. I don’t really have the money to buy many.” His face was pink.
“I have some of the new ones. You can borrow them,” I told him.
“Seriously?”
“Oh lord. There are two of them,” Jake sighed. Edward and Sarah were watching us, smiling happily. And, it’s important to note, Edward was not looking at me with any kind of unhealthy interest. He cleared his throat.
“Dinner looks ready, guys. Go wash your hands. And Lucky?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m a Superman fan, myself.”
I laughed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
From Famine to Feast
Dinner was an interesting change from what it had been at the Wilsons’ house. For one thing, no one forced me to pray before I ate. And there was laughter. Lots of it. The two foster kids seemed to actually enjoy being around Sarah and Edward. And Sarah and Edward listened with great interest to Charlie and Jake.
The food was different too. Mary Wilson’s cooking was…okay. Nothing memorable. Meat and potatoes with very little seasoning to spice it up.
But Sarah clearly loved to cook. She had filled the table with bowls of mouthwatering Indian food. Butter chicken. Piles of naan on a plate. Basmati rice. And a vegetable curry that was full of cauliflower and chickpeas and smelled absolutely heavenly.
“This is amazing!” I shoveled another forkful of chicken into my mouth. My stomach was full, but I couldn’t stop eating.
Sarah looked pleased.
“Thank you, Lucky!”
“Make sure you leave room for dessert.” Edward smiled.
I groaned. Dessert too?
“She made carrot cake,” Jake said.
“I helped!” Charlie elbowed him.
“Yes, you did.” Sarah smiled gently at him. They genuinely liked each other. It was kind of surprising after my first experience with a foster home.
I helped clear the dinner plates despite being exempt from chores for the night. I sat back down and accepted a piece of amazing looking cake.
“So, I was hoping I could visit my grandmother,” I blurted out. I didn’t know how to ease into it.
Edward looked up from his piece of cake and nodded.
“Can you figure out the bus route?” he asked.
“Yes.” I was surprised he didn’t ask any questions. Clearly he already knew about her.
“Then you can go after school. Just be home for dinner,” he said.
“I will. Thanks.” It was that simple. No pleading or arguments or sneaking out.
I dug into my dessert. It was almost as good as Grandma’s carrot cake.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Fitting In
I wasn’t close enough to my old school to go there, but anything was better than being homeschooled. I drifted through the halls and found my classes with the help of Charlie, who magically appeared at the door at the end of every class to take me to the next one.
The kids were mostly friendly enough. The teachers were helpful. But I just wanted to get through the day and go visit Grandma.
“I don’t have lunch until later,” Charlie told me, stopping at the door to the cafeteria. “But Jake should be in there somewhere.” He wandered off to chemistry and left me standing inside the door, holding my brown-bag lunch and looking for somewhere to sit.
“You look lost.” Jake appeared beside me suddenly. “Come on. You can sit with me.” He led me over to a table full of the kind of kids who never gave me the time of day at my old school. You know the type. The jocks and the cheerleaders, neither of which I had ever been. The shining stars of the school. The mostly blonde girls and the muscle-bound guys. “Hey guys. This is Lucky. She’s the new kid at Sarah and Edward’s place.”
The guys, most of whom looked like athletes, gave me a thorough once over, mumbling greetings. One of the girls said hi, but the others stared at me in way I could only describe as hostile.
The redhead at the end ignored me completely and called out to Jake.
“Jake! Come sit here. I saved you a seat.” He smiled but sat beside me. Shit.
“I’m good over here, Elyse. Thanks though.” Double shit.
She was glaring at me openly.
“Girlfriend?” I asked, digging into my lunch bag. Sarah had packed a pretty fantastic-looking turkey sandwich, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and a fruit salad.
Jake laughed. “No.”
“Does she know that?” I asked, biting into the sandwich. It had brie and thin slices of Granny Smith a
pples in it. “Oh my god, this is amazing,” I moaned. I caught the redhead rolling her eyes and nudging her friends. I turned back toward Jake and tried to ignore them.
“So? Are you settling in?” he asked, biting into his sandwich. “Wow. This is fantastic.”
“I know, right? Yeah. I guess. Charlie meets me after every class to help me find the next one.”
He laughed, which wasn’t lost on Elyse the redhead. She was scowling pretty openly at me now. Jake didn’t seem to notice.
“Yeah, he’s a good kid.”
“How long have you been staying with Edward and Sarah?”
“Ummm…about a year. Charlie’s been there for three years, I think.”
“Really? Wow. And…they’re cool? No…issues?”
“Nope. They’re really nice. I was in another home before this one, and the parents there weren’t anything like them.”
“Yeah. I was with another family too. Briefly. It wasn’t a good situation.”
He nodded.
“I know what you mean. Lots of foster homes are a nightmare. But Edward and Sarah are great.”
“Really? No skeletons in the closet?” I asked, using one of my grandfather’s favorite terms.
Jake laughed. “Nah. I mean, they have rules, and they’re pretty strict about them.”
“Like what?”
“Normal stuff. No stealing. No lying. No fighting. No going out without telling them where you are. Treat everyone in the house with respect. Do your chores.”
I was relieved. They were the same rules my grandparents had at home.
“Oh. Okay. I was expecting…I don’t know. Three hours of church every week or something,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow.
“You did live in a weird home, didn’t you?”
He had no idea. It wasn’t the religious aspect. I could have dealt with that. I had respect for everyone’s beliefs. But having to fend off a lecherous foster father wasn’t what I’d call normal. Telling Ryan about it was one thing. He was my friend for life, and I knew I could tell him absolutely anything. But Jake got it. I didn’t have to share any details or explain how vulnerable I had felt. How helpless. He already knew. We smiled at each other, and I caught Elyse glaring at me over his shoulder. Again. God, couldn’t she just back the hell up?
Just Lucky Page 7