Patrice stops talking. I take a bite of a chocolate chip cookie. I take two more bites fast and push the rest in my mouth.
“Look,” says Patrice, “when you argue with your Forever Mom all the time and get in fights at school and then keep trying to sneak upstairs to feed Baby Wendy—And let’s not forget the upcoming court case. They have to be witnesses. But it’s all too much. A lot of it is completely understandable, considering what you’ve been through. But for her, it’s just too much. Do you see that?”
I don’t so I don’t say anything.
Patrice looks down. She looks up at me and looks down again. “We’re hoping that you really like Rick,” she says. “We’re really, really hoping. Did you bring the letter he sent to you this morning? Did your parents print it out and give it to you?”
That was two questions but still I nod my head yes.
“Can we read it together?”
I take it out. It is in my back pocket folded in eight rectangles. I open it and give it to Patrice. She reads it out loud.
Dear Ginny,
Yes, I think it would be good if we met sometime soon. Maybe if it all works out you can come visit for a few days and hang out with your old dad. See what he’s like and give everyone a break for a while. I don’t live too far away. I’m on the road right now and won’t be back until the week after next. It’s a long haul. Then I have a break for a few days before heading out again that Sunday. Maybe we can find a time before that to meet at the park, like your new dad said.
Say, do you like to watch football? I bet you don’t but if you do I wonder what your favorite team is. I know you like Michael Jackson a lot. Do you play any sports at school?
Your Old Dad,
Rick
“He doesn’t live too far away,” I say.
“That’s right,” says Patrice.
“I could go see him and give everyone a break when he gets back.”
“I know this is all pretty exciting,” says Patrice, “but you’ll have to meet Rick a few times before you go to his house.”
I look down at the ground. I am thinking.
“Ginny, do you know what the word respite means?” Patrice asks.
I shake my head no.
“It means taking a little break. I know it’s awfully soon, but like I said—Anyway, your parents are hoping that after you get to know Rick a little better, you can go have a respite with him. That way they can spend some time alone together with Wendy, and you can get to know your Birth Dad. He’s so, so happy to have finally found you. And after that—well, we’ll see. What do you think?”
I nod my head yes three times. “Yes,” I say. “I think it’s a great idea.” But Rick won’t be home for approximately two weeks. I don’t know if my Baby Doll will be safe with Gloria until then.
“Honestly, I think it’s a little soon myself, but it’s much better than the other alternative your mom and dad are thinking about. So you’ll be going to meet Rick on Saturday the 20th.”
I sit up straight. “Where will I go to meet him?”
“To the park, like he said. The arrangements were made right around lunchtime. You’ll go there with both of your Forever Parents on Saturday the 20th, and your Grammy will come out to watch Wendy.”
“I start basketball next week,” I say to Patrice.
“That’s right,” she says. “Special Olympics starts back up this month. Maybe you could mention that to Rick in your next letter. Maybe you could invite him to come watch some of your games.”
In my brain I picture Rick. My Birth Dad. He is sitting on the bleachers at school watching me make hook shots and jump shots and layups. Rick is not a big man. He will be a small man with skinny shoulders and long black hair and a small nose. He will smile all the time and wear white, white socks with black shoes. And big sunglasses.
He will be my biggest fan.
“And we should probably talk about the interview,” says Patrice.
I come up out of my brain and make sure my mouth is shut tight and look up at the ceiling like I didn’t hear. Because I don’t want to go to the interview. Thinking about the interview makes me want to climb into a suitcase and zip myself in. Because at the interview I have to talk with a detective and tell him all the things Crystal with a C did and said. Instead of going to the trial. But I don’t want to talk with a detective even if a bunch of social workers will be there. Because detective is another word for police officer.
“It’s coming up soon,” says Patrice. “But maybe we can talk about it on the phone in a day or two. Would that be all right?”
I come up fast out of my brain. “Yes, that would be all right,” I say.
41
EXACTLY 8:24 IN THE MORNING,
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 8TH
The secretaries in the office at school are smiling at my Forever Sister. It is on the counter asleep in its car seat. My Forever Mom is standing at the counter smiling while the secretaries make their lips look like round circles and say “Oh!” and “So cute!” and “B-eau-tiful!” It is like they remember only long vowel sounds.
I am sitting on the edge of a long bench right next to a garbage can. There are lots of crumpled papers inside and some shavings from a pencil sharpener. A cinnamon oatmeal granola bar wrapper and a brown apple core with exactly two bites left on the side that I can see.
“And how is your husband?” one of the secretaries says. The older one. I know she doesn’t like me one bit. She’s here every time I come into the office to talk with the principal. She always tells me to sit in the same place. The far, far end of the long wooden bench that is in front of the glass wall facing the hallway. It is like the spot at the end of the bench is only for me.
“I understand they had a hard time finding someone to fill in for him up at the high school. And they say he’s got just enough sick days to cover the rest of the year. He’s doing the right thing, of course. I mean, no one would ever question that. It’s just that a whole school year is a long time. And what about you? Is your partner able to take all your patients? So glad you came in with the baby!”
She glances at me. Like I am a dog who chewed someone’s shoes. I make a frowning face at her.
“He’s doing just fine,” says my Forever Mom. “Today he’s at the doctor’s—high blood pressure—which is why I’m here for Ginny’s intake. And yes, Dr. Win is taking my patients for now. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
Then the other secretary says, “I think someone’s waking up!”
My Forever Sister’s foot moves. The two secretaries take big breaths and hold them. Their eyes and mouths get big and freeze.
My Forever Sister goes back to sleep.
Then the secretaries start talking. “Is she eating rice cereal? And is she sleeping through the night? You know, I used to give my daughters rice cereal in a bottle right before—”
In my brain I remember my Baby Doll. It never had rice cereal or people to smile at it. Or a car seat or a mom who wrapped it up in nice blankets.