“I’ve already talked to Liz, but there’s some stuff I want you to know.” Sassy jumps off the bed like she can sense the tension. Mom stops rubbing the comforter and looks at me while I explain how badly I’ve screwed things up. By the time I stop to catch my breath, I feel drained but somehow renewed. Like a deflated balloon blown back up again.
I search Mom’s face for any extra pain I might have inflicted, to see if her rash has worsened. She seems no worse. Her eyes, dull last night, have regained some of their normal sparkle. The medicine already seems to be working.
“What Cherish did was inappropriate, but two wrongs don’t make a right. I’m sorry for not being there for you like I should’ve been.” Mom chokes up when she reaches for my hand like she did at the park. The vein on the top of hers is lumpy and bruised from the IV. I thank God she’s okay and cuddle up to her like old times.
When Mom asks me if I’d like to talk to a counselor, I tell her maybe and add that there’s something else I want to say.
Mom pulls her hand away like she’s afraid of what I’ll admit next. “You and Liz should rethink being foster parents.”
“But Calli . . .”
“I know you’re not feeling well and the timing is horrible, but you’re such a good mom. Other kids need your help.”
Mom doesn’t hide her emotions right now. She reaches for a tissue to dry her eyes. “I lost you in a store, and I let you get attacked.”
I remember something else—a quote Grandma liked to recite. “Circumstances don’t make a person . . .”
“They reveal her,” Mom says, finishing the sentence.
“You know how much fostering means to Liz. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. A second chance with Cherish is impossible, but there’s hope with Lemond. He needs us. It’s a short-term placement, and we could treat it like a trial. If it doesn’t work out then we can all agree that it wasn’t meant to be.”
“It might not even be possible, but I’ll give it some serious consideration,” Mom says.
That’s all I can ask for at this point.
WISHING
Friday, May 2
I STAYED IN BED WITH MOM until she dozed off. There’s still some time to waste before Dub gets home from school, so I grab my headphones and my iPod. If it hadn’t gone missing, how different would things be?
I can’t keep thinking like this.
There are too many different scenarios and too many different ways to torture myself.
I select the playlist Dub made for me when we started going out. The first song that comes on is “Surrender.” I push my French textbook aside to check e-mail on the laptop.
There’s a message Delia sent last night. I click it open, but it’s only a forward—a personality survey. How long has it been since Delia and I talked to each other? Really talked to each other? I need to make an effort even if things are different between us.
The e-mail’s instructions say make a wish and answer
the questions carefully. What do I have to lose? I want my family and friends to be okay.
I grab a pencil and a piece of scratch paper. For the first set of questions, I have to rank animals.
1. Horse
2. Tiger
3. Sheep
Then, for the next set, I describe objects.
1. Dog = loveable
2. Rat = trouble
3. Sea = undulating
Before finding out the results, I repeat my wish. I scroll through the e-mail, and it says the animals stand for what I value most in my life.
1. Horse means family.
2. Tiger means pride.
3. Sheep means love.
I’m taken back by the responses—they feel true.
“You’ll Be My Tomorrow” starts playing. Dub called the radio station to dedicate this song to me after we’d been dating six months. I scroll down further.
1. The dog describes me. Loveable? This doesn’t feel true, especially not lately.
2. The rat describes my enemies. Trouble. Even if
Cherish isn’t exactly my enemy, she’s definitely in trouble now.
3. The sea stands for how I view my life. Undulating. I think of the waves
I search Mom’s face for any extra pain I might have inflicted, to see if her rash has worsened. She seems no worse. Her eyes, dull last night, have regained some of their normal sparkle. The medicine already seems to be working.
“What Cherish did was inappropriate, but two wrongs don’t make a right. I’m sorry for not being there for you like I should’ve been.” Mom chokes up when she reaches for my hand like she did at the park. The vein on the top of hers is lumpy and bruised from the IV. I thank God she’s okay and cuddle up to her like old times.
When Mom asks me if I’d like to talk to a counselor, I tell her maybe and add that there’s something else I want to say.
Mom pulls her hand away like she’s afraid of what I’ll admit next. “You and Liz should rethink being foster parents.”
“But Calli . . .”
“I know you’re not feeling well and the timing is horrible, but you’re such a good mom. Other kids need your help.”
Mom doesn’t hide her emotions right now. She reaches for a tissue to dry her eyes. “I lost you in a store, and I let you get attacked.”
I remember something else—a quote Grandma liked to recite. “Circumstances don’t make a person . . .”
“They reveal her,” Mom says, finishing the sentence.
“You know how much fostering means to Liz. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. A second chance with Cherish is impossible, but there’s hope with Lemond. He needs us. It’s a short-term placement, and we could treat it like a trial. If it doesn’t work out then we can all agree that it wasn’t meant to be.”
“It might not even be possible, but I’ll give it some serious consideration,” Mom says.
That’s all I can ask for at this point.
WISHING
Friday, May 2
I STAYED IN BED WITH MOM until she dozed off. There’s still some time to waste before Dub gets home from school, so I grab my headphones and my iPod. If it hadn’t gone missing, how different would things be?
I can’t keep thinking like this.
There are too many different scenarios and too many different ways to torture myself.
I select the playlist Dub made for me when we started going out. The first song that comes on is “Surrender.” I push my French textbook aside to check e-mail on the laptop.
There’s a message Delia sent last night. I click it open, but it’s only a forward—a personality survey. How long has it been since Delia and I talked to each other? Really talked to each other? I need to make an effort even if things are different between us.
The e-mail’s instructions say make a wish and answer
the questions carefully. What do I have to lose? I want my family and friends to be okay.
I grab a pencil and a piece of scratch paper. For the first set of questions, I have to rank animals.
1. Horse
2. Tiger
3. Sheep
Then, for the next set, I describe objects.
1. Dog = loveable
2. Rat = trouble
3. Sea = undulating
Before finding out the results, I repeat my wish. I scroll through the e-mail, and it says the animals stand for what I value most in my life.
1. Horse means family.
2. Tiger means pride.
3. Sheep means love.
I’m taken back by the responses—they feel true.
“You’ll Be My Tomorrow” starts playing. Dub called the radio station to dedicate this song to me after we’d been dating six months. I scroll down further.
1. The dog describes me. Loveable? This doesn’t feel true, especially not lately.
2. The rat describes my enemies. Trouble. Even if
Cherish isn’t exactly my enemy, she’s definitely in trouble now.
3. The sea stands for how I view my life. Undulating. I think of the waves
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