“Go change. I'm getting hungry and I have no patience when I don't eat.”
Ten minutes later, I carried my purchase with a tight grip. If the dress looked that good, I didn't want to risk leaving it behind. We ordered burgers and fries, then sat at a table to eat. The food court was the hub of the mall at that time of day and the noise drowned out any lingering memories as I tried to concentrate on what Jenn was saying.
“I can't believe we've never gone shopping together before this,” Jenn said, then sipped her diet coke. “Why haven't we?”
“I don't know.”
“Reece.”
“What?”
“Reece,” she repeated. “He's why we never hung out. The two of you have always been inseparable. How did you guys get to be friends? I mean you're not...”
“Popular? I guess that's why. When we first met I needed someone to stick by me, and he needed someone to do his homework. Now I trust him more than I trust anyone. He'd never hurt me.”
“Have you ever thought about...?”
“Dating him?” I said, finishing her question. “Reece doesn't think of me like that.”
“But what about you?”
“Is there a girl alive that's met him and not thought about being with him?”
“Have you ever told him you're interested?”
“No! As much as I'd love to be with him, I couldn't risk...”
“Would it bother you if he and I went out?” Well, at least she was straight forward, but it still hurt.
“Honestly, yes. But he wanted to go to the dance with you. I just want him to be happy.”
Isn't that what real love is? Wanting the person you love to be happy despite anything. Apart from Jace, I'd never had someone love me like that.
“I know he really likes you. You should go out with him.” I couldn't believe I managed to say the words. I almost choked as they left my mouth. I wondered for a moment if this was the kind of lie you went to hell for. For some reason I didn't think saving face was a valid excuse when it came to entering heaven. On the other hand, I was only saying it so Reece would be happy.
Jenn gave me one of those sympathetic smiles that said she didn't know what to say to make me feel better.
“So tell me about your dress,” I said in a desperate attempt to change the subject.
She launched into a detailed description of her dress, and I forced myself to listen and respond, to ignore the voice in my head telling me to hate this perfectly sweet girl for the simple fact that Reece liked her.
My pocket began to vibrate, and I pulled out my cell phone. Reece's smiling face flashed across the screen.
“What's up?”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“At the mall with Jenn.”
“You're skipping?!” I could almost see his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.
“Well, thanks to you I needed a dress.”
“Oh.”
“So? What's up?”
“I forgot to finish my bio homework.”
“Reece,” I sighed.
“What? Are you coming back before class?”
I looked across the table at Jenn, who was waving to a group of teens sitting at a neighboring table. She was nice, but I wasn't interested in listening to her spend the next few hours talking.
“Yeah, I'll be there in an hour.”
Chapter Five
The halls were barren when I finally made it back to school. Class was already in session. Reece had biology last, so I wasn't worried about not getting a chance to help him with his homework. Instead, I went to the cafeteria to wait. There I found other students lingering, their voices drifting easily across the large, sparse room. Talk of the dance seemed to be the focus.
A tingle of excitement coursed through me as I thought of going with Reece to the homecoming celebration. I found a seat near the window and watched the trees sway in the gentle Chinook wind that swept through.
I pulled my small black notebook from my backpack. Mom had given me the first one for Christmas when I was eight; every year since, one had been sitting under the tree for me.
Up until that first Christmas with the Thompsons. It was the last time she ever given me one.
I'd been with them for almost four weeks, and each of those twenty-six days had been surreal. Martha was going through an obsession with shopping. Mom never took me shopping with her, first because of Dad, then because of the drinking. But with Martha, it was every day and Christmas was just another excuse to go to the mall.
At least her heart was in the right place. She was the chairperson for a local charity and, despite Paul's weak protests, one of the biggest donors.
Mom's visit was scheduled for Christmas Eve. Carol drove me to the McDonald's and I sat stiff in my seat. I knew what the first visits were like. This was the eighth. As much as I wanted to see her, I didn't. Mom was...well, she was my mom. How could I not love her, want to be with her? At the same time, I couldn't help wonder why she couldn't be like Martha.
Martha took me places. She brushed my hair like Mama used to when Jace was alive. Martha did what Mom couldn't. She took care of me. The other foster homes I'd been in had been all right. I didn't remember a lot about them, especially the first few. They all blurred together. The Thompsons, though, didn't have any other kids, and I was their focus.
“How's it going with the Thompsons?” Carol asked, trying to draw me into conversation.
“Fine.”
“How are you feeling about seeing your mom?” This time she glanced at me from the corner of her eye.
“Happy.” I shrugged a shoulder.
Even at eleven, I wasn't stupid enough to think she'd buy that, but I said it anyways. It's what she expected. Every other visit I'd been excited, thinking that maybe Mom would have changed. There were times when she got better, but they never lasted.
We pulled into the McDonald's parking lot. I could see her through the large window. She was sitting with a tray in front of her, our meals already bought. It was going to be a quick visit. My stomach clenched and I resisted the urge to beg Carol not to leave me alone with her. Even with her sitting a few booths away, it wasn't close enough.
I dragged myself from the car into the restaurant.
“I'll be right over there, Dani,” Carol said, pointing to a booth two up from where Mama sat.
I nodded and joined Mom. She smiled when she saw me. Her glassy eyes had nothing to do with tears of happiness. No, they came from the bottle of gin I saw sticking out of her purse. She didn't stand to hug me. She knew I'd be able to smell her.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” she said slowly. She was trying not to slur. I thought about calling Carol over, and telling her I wanted to go, but this was my mom, and my heart ached. She really did look happy to see me.
“Merry Christmas, Mama.” The familiar term slipped from my lips so naturally.
“Your daddy called the other day. He was real disappointed he couldn't talk to you.”
Bile seared my throat. I didn't understand how she could still talk to him. How could she stand hearing his voice when Jace's was silenced forever? I stared vacantly at her until she coughed then sipped from her soda.
“How are you doing? Are they treating you good?” she asked.
“Yeah, they're real nice. Martha even bought me a new outfit for school pictures. It has a purple top with flowers sewn across the bottom and the jeans have the same flowers along the pockets.”
“Oh. Well, it must be nice to have all that money.” Her tone turned snarky and I winced, wishing I hadn't mentioned the clothing.
“I'm real happy to see you, Mama,” I said, hoping to pacify her.
“Baby, I miss you.” Her eyes glistened, this time with tears, and she reached across the table to grip my hand in hers. She squeezed me tightly before coughing and letting go. “So, tell me about school. Have you made any friends?”
I blushed as I thought of Reece.
“Kinda,” I mumbled.
“His name is Reece and he's super cute.” I closed my eyes picturing his salad bowl haircut. “He's really funny, and Mama, he said he'd love me forever.” I smiled, a giddy little girl pouring out my heart to her.
“Dani, you know boys always say things they don't mean.”
“Jace didn't. And Reece does so mean it. He tells me every day.” I slammed back against the booth, folding my arms across my chest.
“I don't want you to get hurt, baby. Your daddy was a gentleman when I met him.”
“Reece is nothing like Daddy!” I yelled at her. How could she even think that? “Reece would never hurt me. Never. He's just like Jace. He stands up for me. He protects me.”
“I'm sorry,” she said frantically, probably noticing Carol making her way towards us. My yelling must have drawn her attention.
She dug into her purse and withdrew a small flat package wrapped in a plastic bag. “Here, you can open this before you go.”
Carol stopped beside the table looking concerned. “Everything good?”
“Yes. I was just giving Dani her Christmas gift. Then I have to run. I have an AA meeting this afternoon.”
She was lying. I glanced down at the package. I knew what it was. Pulling the bag away, I feigned surprise, not really wanting her to leave.
“Wow, thanks Mom! I just finished my last one. This is perfect.”
“I know how much you like to write those silly songs.”
“They're not silly.” I threw the plastic bag onto the tray, covering the happy meal I hadn't even touched. Sliding out of the booth, I looked at her and, for just a moment, I let all the hate and resentment I felt inside boil to the surface. “Jace liked them and so does Martha.”
It was a child's way of letting it out. Spiteful and intentionally hurtful. Bringing up Jace and Martha was the only way I knew to show her how much she hurt me. That night, I cried at the dinner table and Martha wrapped her arms around me listening to me recount the visit. She didn't say anything, just rocked me to sleep.
I saw Mom a couple of times over the next year, but not at Christmas. The book was under the tree wrapped in beautiful silver and blue. Each year they were just there. For the first couple years, I thought she had sent them, a special bond between mother and daughter. Until I was sixteen. That was when I stopped to wonder why she never sent a card, made a phone call, or took advantage of the visitation rights she had. To still send a silly notebook didn't fit.
This past Christmas when I opened the notebook, I simply kissed Martha on the cheek.
Despite her occasional neurotic tendencies, Martha had always had a giant sized heart. Fanning the pages of the book in front of me, I stared at the emptiness. I'd carried it with me every day for nine months and had yet to write a single word.
“Write anything?” Reece's voice startled me and I twisted on the bench to find him only a foot behind me.
I slammed the cover shut and shook my head.
“It'll come. You're forcing it. It's like hockey, you don't know when the puck is gonna come to you. You just gotta be ready when it does.”
“Thank you for that sage wisdom, Obi-wan.”
“You know me; I'm a fountain of valuable information.” He dropped down onto the bench beside me, his books falling into place in front of me. “Well, except for biology. I just can't get a grasp on all of these phylum and kingdoms.”
“Let me see.” I pulled the books closer and turned to the pages he'd been assigned.
We spent the next half hour going over the questions until his homework was done. Admittedly, I had done most of it, but my goal hadn't really been to get him to do the work.
“Thanks, Dani.” He patted my shoulder as he stood, then left for class. I grabbed my own backpack and headed towards my calculus class. Sitting through the lesson distracted me from thoughts of Reece. Math was my favorite subject, and I was even considering majoring in it in college, if I could afford it. Paul had hinted that he and Martha would help me out, but I was already preparing for some major work applying for scholarships.
After school, I waited by our lockers for Reece to show. He was late. Normally, I was the one rushing to meet him. I glanced down the hall, and not seeing him, I returned my focus to reorganizing my locker. A shifting of color to my right had me looking over, expecting Reece. Instead, Colin stood there, only a foot away.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hey,” I mumbled with a slight nod. What did he want? I wanted to run, but that would be cowardly, and a bit too childish for my tastes.
“Is there a reason you're ignoring me, Dani?”
“No, it's not personal or anything. I just don't know you.” I glanced around him hoping Reece would show and we could leave. That sick feeling was curdling my stomach.
Colin stared at me, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What do you mean you don't know me?”
“Okay, I know your name. You're the new kid in my English class, that's all I know about you.” My stomach rolled, thundering at me to leave, to get away from him.
“You don't remember me,” he said, understanding dawning.
“Should I?”
“I'm Colin. Colin Delaney.”
Colin Delaney. Delaney. The name echoed through me, tension filling me. I remembered.
Chapter Six
Carol pulled up to the house. She said they were nice. She said they had a son just about my age. At eight years old, that didn't mean much to me. Boys were gross. Except for Jace, I'd never liked them.
“They have a little girl's room all set up.” I could tell she wanted me to be excited.
“Why?” I asked instead.
“Why what?”
“Why do they have a girl's room all set up? The others didn't have rooms for girls or boys. Just a room.”
“Oh, well, they had a little girl, but she died last year.”
“How?”
“Dani, it really isn't your business and I hope you don't ask them about it.”
“I just wondered. Maybe it's not safe there. Maybe I should just go back to Mama. She needs me to take care of her.”
“Sweetie, you shouldn't have to take care of her. The Delaney's are good people, give them a chance.”
I stared out the window at the blue two-story house. The robin's egg blue was over powering and the white trim around the windows only increased the brilliance of it. Pockets of flowers decorated the yard and a flagstone path led to the front porch. Even though I was missing Mama, I could admit that this place looked a lot better than the one bedroom hotel room Mom and I had been staying in this time.
I trailed behind Carol to the door, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. This wasn't my first foster home, though I was young enough to hope it was my last. As much as I wanted to go home, I wanted these people to like me.
The door opened, and a middle-aged woman with black hair stood there smiling. “Hello, come in, come in.”
We followed her into a comfy looking living room. It was lived in. Homey. She shook hands with Carol, then bent down to my height.
“I'm Donna, and you must be Danielle.”
“Dani,” I mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
“Dani. Nobody calls me Danielle.”
“Oh, well thank you for telling me.” She smiled again and continued to speak with Carol. I glanced around the room. There were family photos lining the walls of the room. I moved closer to one set on the wall nearest the couch.
A family of four beamed back at me. Donna wore a purple tracksuit and a tall blonde man, her husband I guessed, was at her side. His hands firmly clenched on the shoulders of a small girl. She looked a little older than me. Her smile wasn't as bright. A short boy stood to the side, his dark hair matching Donna's, and he held a furry white dog in his arms.
“Dani, I'm leaving now,” Carol said from behind me. I twisted to glance at her over my shoulder and nodded my head. I knew the routine. I'd see her on my next court d
ate.
After Carol left, silence filled the room. Donna wasn't quite sure what to say. They never were. What do you say to a child that's been ripped away from their only parent? A child that comes into your home with few expectations, no hopes, only a white plastic bag clenched tightly in their hands. Even I didn't know what to say to me, or what I wanted them to say to me.
“Let me show you your room.” She led me down a hall, passing by three other doors, then turned the corner and went to the last door. “This was Keri's room. When she passed away we...well, we wanted a young girl to enjoy it.”
“Thank you.” What else could I say?
“Everything in here is yours to use. I just picked up some new clothing for you, since you're a bit taller than Keri was, even though she was a couple years older than you. I'll let you look around. Dinner will be in an hour. Lance and Colin should be home by then.”
I tried to curl my lips into a smile. I sat on the bed once she left and ran my hand along the beautiful pink comforter. I hadn't slept alone since the last foster home four months ago. Would I be able to sleep not knowing if Mom made it to the bedroom without falling again?
I left the comfort of the bed and inspected the room. Small pieces of plastic jewelry littered the dresser top and when I pulled open the top drawer, freshly folded clothing was stacked inside. Taking a shirt from the drawer, I held it up to myself to check the size. It looked like it might fit.
The sound of footsteps at the door had me swiveling around. The boy from the photo stood there. He was taller in person and he wasn't smiling. His arms were folded across his chest and he was ready to fight.
I shoved the shirt back into the dresser, unsure of what I'd done wrong. Most of the other kids had at least given me a day before they started picking on me.
“You shouldn't be here,” he said quietly.
“I'm Dani.”
“I know who you are. Tell them you want to go home. Leave. You shouldn't be here.”
I felt tears rising in my eyes. His words didn't hurt, not the way he meant them too. They hurt because I did tell them that and nobody listened.
“Leave,” he said, then glanced behind him when Donna's movements came closer. He turned back to me with a grin.
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