starters, you can throw her sorry little ass in that closet you’re so fond of. And while you’re at it, toss her a pacifier. I’m sick of her thumb-sucking.”
“I don’t suck my thumb.” Grace crossed her arms.
“Might as well. You’re acting like an infant.”
Grace straightened. “You said I was doing better.”
“No. I said you haven’t let the little twit run the show.”
“Where did you come from anyway?” Grace glared. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine this crude, “in your face” bitch coming from within her.
“What about Cherry?” #2 ignored her question.
Her stomach dropped at the mention of the child’s name. “What about her?”
“You were on to something the other night.”
Grace tilted her head. “About Cherry? What?”
“Gotta go. Hey, watch that bath water.”
“Well shit,” Grace seethed. “You can’t leave now!” Silence . “Damn her.” Grace shut off the faucet, tested the water with her toe, and then sank into the foamy pool. She replayed the conversation. What had #2 meant about Cherry?
~~~
Later, Grace explained the Daniel situation to Adam. And, although not crazy about the boyfriend part, he shrugged and gave the go-ahead for the baseball game.
When they told Hannah, she responded as if she’d just been handed keys to her first car. Adam scratched his head, confused. Grace understood all too well the excitement of a first boyfriend…and the heartache after a first boyfriend.
Puberty. The first major stage of Hannah’s life she’d have to wade through without her mother’s advice. Who’ll help me now?
An image of #2 hooking Hannah up with some tattooed biker dude, wearing matching vials of each other’s blood around their necks zipped through Grace’s mind, closely followed by vague images of a young Angelina and Billy Bob Thornton.
Oh.My.God. Grace felt her heart ramp. And Angelina got Brad in the end, didn’t she? Shit. Biker chick and home-wrecker. Grace tried to calm herself by making a mental note. No (as in zero) help from #2 during Hannah’s puberty stage.
Why did her mother have to die?
~~~
Thursday morning. Grace needed to talk to Cherry before she lost her nerve. She breathed in what she hoped to be confidence and pulled Cherry aside during the morning break.
“ Today is my last day .” Grace swallowed hard, making note of Cherry’s lethal red boots. “ I wanted to say goodbye. ” Cherry’s eyes narrowed. She wrapped her arms tightly across her small chest and stomped out of the room.
That went well . She watched the troubled child disappear around the corner and took off after her. She found Cherry in the empty Arts and Crafts room, curled up in a corner under a table, her arms still tightly crossed, her eyes spitting fire.
Grace tried to coax Cherry out of the cramped space. “ Please come out. We’ll talk. Okay? ” Cherry refused to budge, turning her small, dirt-smudged face to the wall.
Pulling up a chair, Grace sat. Twenty minutes passed before Cherry crawled out from under the table and stood, lifted her chin as high as her small stature allowed and, once again, marched out of the room. By the time Grace reached the door she caught the child’s small silhouette pushing through heavy double doors leading outside. Grace followed and watched Cherry join the Bluebird’s outside activity.
Jill shot Grace a questioning look.
With rounded eyes, Grace could only shrug. Cherry ignored her the rest of the day.
“I guess she’s punishing me for not coming tomorrow.” Grace sat next to Jill during lunch.
“I would too if I could think of some horrible torture to inflict on you.” Jill stacked potato chips on her tuna sandwich.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is you’re leaving me to manage that wild child for the entire day.”
“Oh, she’ll be fine.” Grace mentally crossed her fingers. “She’s done better every week.”
Jill wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, because you’ve been here.” She
“I don’t suck my thumb.” Grace crossed her arms.
“Might as well. You’re acting like an infant.”
Grace straightened. “You said I was doing better.”
“No. I said you haven’t let the little twit run the show.”
“Where did you come from anyway?” Grace glared. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine this crude, “in your face” bitch coming from within her.
“What about Cherry?” #2 ignored her question.
Her stomach dropped at the mention of the child’s name. “What about her?”
“You were on to something the other night.”
Grace tilted her head. “About Cherry? What?”
“Gotta go. Hey, watch that bath water.”
“Well shit,” Grace seethed. “You can’t leave now!” Silence . “Damn her.” Grace shut off the faucet, tested the water with her toe, and then sank into the foamy pool. She replayed the conversation. What had #2 meant about Cherry?
~~~
Later, Grace explained the Daniel situation to Adam. And, although not crazy about the boyfriend part, he shrugged and gave the go-ahead for the baseball game.
When they told Hannah, she responded as if she’d just been handed keys to her first car. Adam scratched his head, confused. Grace understood all too well the excitement of a first boyfriend…and the heartache after a first boyfriend.
Puberty. The first major stage of Hannah’s life she’d have to wade through without her mother’s advice. Who’ll help me now?
An image of #2 hooking Hannah up with some tattooed biker dude, wearing matching vials of each other’s blood around their necks zipped through Grace’s mind, closely followed by vague images of a young Angelina and Billy Bob Thornton.
Oh.My.God. Grace felt her heart ramp. And Angelina got Brad in the end, didn’t she? Shit. Biker chick and home-wrecker. Grace tried to calm herself by making a mental note. No (as in zero) help from #2 during Hannah’s puberty stage.
Why did her mother have to die?
~~~
Thursday morning. Grace needed to talk to Cherry before she lost her nerve. She breathed in what she hoped to be confidence and pulled Cherry aside during the morning break.
“ Today is my last day .” Grace swallowed hard, making note of Cherry’s lethal red boots. “ I wanted to say goodbye. ” Cherry’s eyes narrowed. She wrapped her arms tightly across her small chest and stomped out of the room.
That went well . She watched the troubled child disappear around the corner and took off after her. She found Cherry in the empty Arts and Crafts room, curled up in a corner under a table, her arms still tightly crossed, her eyes spitting fire.
Grace tried to coax Cherry out of the cramped space. “ Please come out. We’ll talk. Okay? ” Cherry refused to budge, turning her small, dirt-smudged face to the wall.
Pulling up a chair, Grace sat. Twenty minutes passed before Cherry crawled out from under the table and stood, lifted her chin as high as her small stature allowed and, once again, marched out of the room. By the time Grace reached the door she caught the child’s small silhouette pushing through heavy double doors leading outside. Grace followed and watched Cherry join the Bluebird’s outside activity.
Jill shot Grace a questioning look.
With rounded eyes, Grace could only shrug. Cherry ignored her the rest of the day.
“I guess she’s punishing me for not coming tomorrow.” Grace sat next to Jill during lunch.
“I would too if I could think of some horrible torture to inflict on you.” Jill stacked potato chips on her tuna sandwich.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is you’re leaving me to manage that wild child for the entire day.”
“Oh, she’ll be fine.” Grace mentally crossed her fingers. “She’s done better every week.”
Jill wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, because you’ve been here.” She
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