us with?
“So what’s going to happen?”
Paulina jumps right in as though she’s been waiting for me to ask. She seems excited, which is weird.
“If she dies, your father and I will stay here with you kids.”
“You won’t want to go back to Florida?”
“Florida? No, we haven’t lived in Florida for the last—” she stops to count on her fingers, “—six months. We’ve been staying at your Aunt Doreen’s.” I’m stunned.
They kept a secret.
My father has been living in the same town as us for six months without bothering to visit? We didn’t see my Aunt Doreen this past summer because supposedly my father was out of town, and we never visit his family without him.
They all knew he lived there and kept it secret.
“H-how come he didn’t come and see us?”
Paulina’s face turns magenta. I can tell she feels caught and doesn’t want to tell me the truth.
“Well, your father didn’t tell you he was here because he was afraid your mother would ask for the child support payments, and he doesn’t have a job yet.” She stops for a second. “There’s no money for that. I’m sorry, honey; I didn’t mean to make you sad. It’s … every spare dime has gone to the lawyer who’s working on bringing my kids back to me. You’re gonna like my kids a lot. My boy, William, is a year older than you and handsome. My girl, Lucy, is Moses’s age. Just think, you’ll have a sister!”
Paulina doesn’t seem sorry to make me sad. As a matter of fact, she perks up as she tells me all this, half a smirk on her face. Probably drunk.
She wants to hurt you.
Two things became clear to me in this moment.
One: My father cares more about losing money than he does about seeing us. Two: Paulina is too selfish and stupid to care how we feel—and she believes it’s okay for a father to act like this with his kids.
All I can think is “it stinks.”
She looks pretty, but she’s ugly inside.
I decide not to give away anything about any of it. Instead I say, “Thanks for telling me. Let me know what happens with my mother, all right?”
I turn and walk toward the front door. When I turn around, Paulina stares at me, confused.
“I’m going over to my friend’s. I have a homework project. I might be back late.”
“Not too late I hope. I’m making dinner. Come back by six thirty for dinner, okay?”
“I will.”
You thought she was the mother type, but she’s a freak.
Paulina struggles to scoop the cigarette ashes off the piano where the ashtray overflowed. I walk back over to her. “Do you think we could call Wendy later?”
I say it politely while I push the button on the side of the ashtray. The butt opens and the ashes spill in.
Paulina sits, amazed by the ashtray. “I don’t know, honey, I’m not sure she can take phone calls.”
My heart pounds through my blouse again and I can’t find my breath to say anything else. I stare at Paulina’s face. She seems pissed off. I guessed she’s mad at me because I didn’t show her the butt button before. I don’t care.
I walk out with my book bag, but I don’t know where to go. I have no friends. I do need to write an English paper, but since it’s Friday, I have all weekend to finish it.
What I want is to call Wendy to tell her I love her, but I realize that if Paulina is telling the truth it might never happen. I’ve been angry with Wendy, but at least she didn’t leave us and pretend to be living in Florida.
I can’t breathe.
Stashing my book bag behind the juniper bushes by the front porch, I walk along the cliff then follow the path down to the beach to my favorite sitting rock on the jetty. Before long, I’m breathing again.
I come up with a plan. I resolve to make sure that even if Wendy dies, my father and Paulina are never going to want to stay in Withensea and take care of us.
You’re better off in an orphanage.
Paulina seems to have a difficult time keeping secrets. I’m certain my father never wanted us to know
“So what’s going to happen?”
Paulina jumps right in as though she’s been waiting for me to ask. She seems excited, which is weird.
“If she dies, your father and I will stay here with you kids.”
“You won’t want to go back to Florida?”
“Florida? No, we haven’t lived in Florida for the last—” she stops to count on her fingers, “—six months. We’ve been staying at your Aunt Doreen’s.” I’m stunned.
They kept a secret.
My father has been living in the same town as us for six months without bothering to visit? We didn’t see my Aunt Doreen this past summer because supposedly my father was out of town, and we never visit his family without him.
They all knew he lived there and kept it secret.
“H-how come he didn’t come and see us?”
Paulina’s face turns magenta. I can tell she feels caught and doesn’t want to tell me the truth.
“Well, your father didn’t tell you he was here because he was afraid your mother would ask for the child support payments, and he doesn’t have a job yet.” She stops for a second. “There’s no money for that. I’m sorry, honey; I didn’t mean to make you sad. It’s … every spare dime has gone to the lawyer who’s working on bringing my kids back to me. You’re gonna like my kids a lot. My boy, William, is a year older than you and handsome. My girl, Lucy, is Moses’s age. Just think, you’ll have a sister!”
Paulina doesn’t seem sorry to make me sad. As a matter of fact, she perks up as she tells me all this, half a smirk on her face. Probably drunk.
She wants to hurt you.
Two things became clear to me in this moment.
One: My father cares more about losing money than he does about seeing us. Two: Paulina is too selfish and stupid to care how we feel—and she believes it’s okay for a father to act like this with his kids.
All I can think is “it stinks.”
She looks pretty, but she’s ugly inside.
I decide not to give away anything about any of it. Instead I say, “Thanks for telling me. Let me know what happens with my mother, all right?”
I turn and walk toward the front door. When I turn around, Paulina stares at me, confused.
“I’m going over to my friend’s. I have a homework project. I might be back late.”
“Not too late I hope. I’m making dinner. Come back by six thirty for dinner, okay?”
“I will.”
You thought she was the mother type, but she’s a freak.
Paulina struggles to scoop the cigarette ashes off the piano where the ashtray overflowed. I walk back over to her. “Do you think we could call Wendy later?”
I say it politely while I push the button on the side of the ashtray. The butt opens and the ashes spill in.
Paulina sits, amazed by the ashtray. “I don’t know, honey, I’m not sure she can take phone calls.”
My heart pounds through my blouse again and I can’t find my breath to say anything else. I stare at Paulina’s face. She seems pissed off. I guessed she’s mad at me because I didn’t show her the butt button before. I don’t care.
I walk out with my book bag, but I don’t know where to go. I have no friends. I do need to write an English paper, but since it’s Friday, I have all weekend to finish it.
What I want is to call Wendy to tell her I love her, but I realize that if Paulina is telling the truth it might never happen. I’ve been angry with Wendy, but at least she didn’t leave us and pretend to be living in Florida.
I can’t breathe.
Stashing my book bag behind the juniper bushes by the front porch, I walk along the cliff then follow the path down to the beach to my favorite sitting rock on the jetty. Before long, I’m breathing again.
I come up with a plan. I resolve to make sure that even if Wendy dies, my father and Paulina are never going to want to stay in Withensea and take care of us.
You’re better off in an orphanage.
Paulina seems to have a difficult time keeping secrets. I’m certain my father never wanted us to know
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