talk to her? Is she okay?”
“We didn’t have a chance to talk, but she waved at me and seemed sorry for her actions.”
Sorry isn’t going to change the outcome, but I hope it helps Cherish’s case. This conversation makes me want to talk to Michelle even more to see if I can visit the girl who used to be my foster sister.
BALLOON
Friday, May 2
SASSY’S JUMPING BY THE DOOR, barking after the UPS guy drops off a package for Mom. Then my crazy dog crashes into the boxes that Michelle still needs to pick up. Mom’s in her room, and I wonder if I should wake her. It’s two in the afternoon and she’s been sleeping since we got home last night. Maybe this package will lift her spirits.
The UPS driver is long gone, but Sassy barks a few more times. I don’t tell her to hush because maybe the racket will make Mom wake up on her own. Plus, the house has been so quiet, so vacant, that it’s good to hear Sassy’s familiar, protective noise.
Mom and Liz had both suggested I stay home from school today, and I agreed it would be for the best. I’ll have to make up a lot of homework since I’ve missed so much school, but it’s important to be here in case Mom needs me. Liz took the morning off but got called in this afternoon.
When I talked to Dub last night, he was as understanding as I’d hoped he’d be. He promised to help me with my assignments.
The package isn’t heavy. A pound, maybe two. Sassy sniffs it, wary after running into Cherish’s boxes.
I knock on Mom’s bedroom door, but she doesn’t answer. I knock again, louder this time, and I hear her faintly say, “Come in.”
Mom sits up when I enter. Sassy jumps onto the bed so lightly, so gracefully, it’s like she can sense Mom’s illness. “This came for you,” I explain, passing her the box. As soon as she rips it open, I wish I would’ve refused the package or thrown it away without her knowing. What’s inside doesn’t add a bit of cheer. It’s a tutoring book Mom had ordered for Cherish awhile back.
Mom’s face tightens like she’s trying to hide her emotions from me. I look away, and a photo on her nightstand of me, Cherish, and Sassy catches my attention. Our heads are crowned in sparkly Happy New Year’s hats. Cherish and I are both smiling cheesy smiles. It even looks like Sassy is smiling too because the photo catches her midpant. I wasn’t happy, I remember, but I pretended to be for Mom’s sake.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’ll put this with Cherish’s stack of things.” I turn to leave with the book in hand, but I can’t move. I’m overwhelmed by a memory.
When people at the Academy of the Holy Rosary found out about my moms’ relationship, the school board held a meeting.
I told Mom and Liz, “I can lie if you need me to.”
“That would be wrong,” Mom had said. “We are who
we are and want to live an honest life with as few deceptions as possible.”
I knew what she meant at the time, but now I finally understand why she said it. “Can I talk to you?”
Mom taps the bed for me to join her. I set the book near the picture frame and climb into the bed like I used to do when I was younger. The mattress is cushy, and the sheets smell like lavender. “What’s on your mind, baby girl?”
I pick at a small bump of fabric on the comforter. “I wish you would’ve said something to me about not fostering anymore or mentioned Cherish’s hearing.”
Mom’s eyes don’t meet mine. She runs her hand over the pilled comforter too. “We did what we thought was for the best.”
“That’s what Liz said. I don’t think it’s for the best though. I know you’re trying to protect me—I keep thinking I’m protecting you when I don’t tell you things, but it’s only made things worse.” I should stop talking. I’ve already said too much. Liz will be upset with me for stressing Mom out. My mother’s heart sac is infected, and she needs rest. But I’m tired of holding back. Pretending. Deceiving.
“We didn’t have a chance to talk, but she waved at me and seemed sorry for her actions.”
Sorry isn’t going to change the outcome, but I hope it helps Cherish’s case. This conversation makes me want to talk to Michelle even more to see if I can visit the girl who used to be my foster sister.
BALLOON
Friday, May 2
SASSY’S JUMPING BY THE DOOR, barking after the UPS guy drops off a package for Mom. Then my crazy dog crashes into the boxes that Michelle still needs to pick up. Mom’s in her room, and I wonder if I should wake her. It’s two in the afternoon and she’s been sleeping since we got home last night. Maybe this package will lift her spirits.
The UPS driver is long gone, but Sassy barks a few more times. I don’t tell her to hush because maybe the racket will make Mom wake up on her own. Plus, the house has been so quiet, so vacant, that it’s good to hear Sassy’s familiar, protective noise.
Mom and Liz had both suggested I stay home from school today, and I agreed it would be for the best. I’ll have to make up a lot of homework since I’ve missed so much school, but it’s important to be here in case Mom needs me. Liz took the morning off but got called in this afternoon.
When I talked to Dub last night, he was as understanding as I’d hoped he’d be. He promised to help me with my assignments.
The package isn’t heavy. A pound, maybe two. Sassy sniffs it, wary after running into Cherish’s boxes.
I knock on Mom’s bedroom door, but she doesn’t answer. I knock again, louder this time, and I hear her faintly say, “Come in.”
Mom sits up when I enter. Sassy jumps onto the bed so lightly, so gracefully, it’s like she can sense Mom’s illness. “This came for you,” I explain, passing her the box. As soon as she rips it open, I wish I would’ve refused the package or thrown it away without her knowing. What’s inside doesn’t add a bit of cheer. It’s a tutoring book Mom had ordered for Cherish awhile back.
Mom’s face tightens like she’s trying to hide her emotions from me. I look away, and a photo on her nightstand of me, Cherish, and Sassy catches my attention. Our heads are crowned in sparkly Happy New Year’s hats. Cherish and I are both smiling cheesy smiles. It even looks like Sassy is smiling too because the photo catches her midpant. I wasn’t happy, I remember, but I pretended to be for Mom’s sake.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’ll put this with Cherish’s stack of things.” I turn to leave with the book in hand, but I can’t move. I’m overwhelmed by a memory.
When people at the Academy of the Holy Rosary found out about my moms’ relationship, the school board held a meeting.
I told Mom and Liz, “I can lie if you need me to.”
“That would be wrong,” Mom had said. “We are who
we are and want to live an honest life with as few deceptions as possible.”
I knew what she meant at the time, but now I finally understand why she said it. “Can I talk to you?”
Mom taps the bed for me to join her. I set the book near the picture frame and climb into the bed like I used to do when I was younger. The mattress is cushy, and the sheets smell like lavender. “What’s on your mind, baby girl?”
I pick at a small bump of fabric on the comforter. “I wish you would’ve said something to me about not fostering anymore or mentioned Cherish’s hearing.”
Mom’s eyes don’t meet mine. She runs her hand over the pilled comforter too. “We did what we thought was for the best.”
“That’s what Liz said. I don’t think it’s for the best though. I know you’re trying to protect me—I keep thinking I’m protecting you when I don’t tell you things, but it’s only made things worse.” I should stop talking. I’ve already said too much. Liz will be upset with me for stressing Mom out. My mother’s heart sac is infected, and she needs rest. But I’m tired of holding back. Pretending. Deceiving.
Similar Books
