“Sorry to wake you,” she whispered, “but it’s your dad on the phone.”
“Oh,” Kate said, surprised. Her father wasn’t one to call. He didn’t stop by. If she didn’t call and ask him to dinner every few months she wouldn’t see him at all. She pulled herself into an upright position and took the phone. “Dad?”
“Kate. Did I wake you?”
It surprised Kate that someone who felt so distant from her could know such a thing, just by the sound of her voice.
“No,” she lied. “I was awake. Is everything all right?”
“I just … David called me. He told me about…”
“Oh.”
The miscarriage. It seemed impossible that something that never left her mind could come back to her like a slap. And yet it did. Over and over.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
Honey. Kate couldn’t remember the last time he’d called her that. “Well, you did warn me,” she said. “Not to say anything until—”
“I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighed. “I don’t know why I did. Sometimes I say things and I … I have no idea why.”
Kate opened her mouth, then paused. It wasn’t like her dad to be so forthcoming, particularly about his shortcomings. She felt herself soften toward him.
“Are you in pain?” he asked her.
“No,” she said, even though that was miles from the truth. “Not anymore.”
“Good … good.”
The silence lasted and lasted … in a good way. Although the conversation was undeniably awkward, there was something wonderful about him trying. As Kate sat with the phone pressed to her ear, memories washed over her—memories of times like this, when her father had been unexpectedly tender. The time she’d fought with her best friend and he’d brought home ice cream. The time she got the top score for science and he called her grandmother to tell her how proud he was. The time he tried to give her advice on the first guy she liked who didn’t know she was alive.
“Well, then,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’d better let you rest. I just wanted to check in and say, you know, sorry.”
“Thank you, Dad. It means a lot.”
They said their farewells, but Kate found herself hanging on the line, wanting to say more. How do you do it? she wanted to ask. How do you go from being someone who I feel I have no connection with to the only person in the world who can make me feel like I’m not alone? And why, dear God why, can’t you be that person all the time? She was still holding on the line a few seconds later when the call disconnected.
22
“Knock, knock,” came the voice, and then the door opened. Zoe was sure she was in the middle of a nightmare. There was a social worker in her house. Her mom had cancer. She’d had a panic attack. Now, a second stranger was here.
“Come in,” Sonja said.
This woman was around her mom’s age, with a round face and cropped brown hair. She sat on the couch next to Zoe. “I’m Chelsea. I’m from the Department of Children and Family Services.”
“Oh,” Zoe said. What she really wanted to say was What are you doing in my house?
“I’m in your house, Zoe, because Sonja tells me you’ve been staying here alone while your mom is in the hospital, and she’s worried that you might not be coping too well.”
Zoe blinked. Shit. Clearly she had said it out loud.
“Are you all right, Zoe?” Chelsea said. “You seem a little shaken.”
There are strange people in my apartment, Zoe wanted to say, but this time she managed to keep it on the inside.
“Ouch,” Chelsea said, gesturing to Zoe’s cheek. “What happened there?”
“I ran into a wall.”
They clearly thought she was lying (because who runs into a wall?). She was also blushing, which only made it look worse. But she wasn’t lying.
Chelsea sat forward. “It must be pretty lonely here all by yourself. I know I get a bit scared when I’m home all by myself. Do you have any friends you could stay with? Relatives?”
Zoe shook her head. “I’m fine by myself.”
“I’m sure you’re very responsible,” Chelsea said, “or your mom wouldn’t have left you alone. But I wonder what would happen if something went wrong. What if you had an accident while you were here alone? If you, say, got an electric shock from the hairdryer?”
“I don’t use a hairdryer,” Zoe said.
“What if you burned yourself while you were making dinner then? What would you do?”
Zoe felt like she might cry. “I’d … call my mom.”
“I see.” Chelsea sucked the air between her teeth. “You know something, Zoe? I know a really nice lady who lives just a few blocks from here. She looks after kids who need someone to take care of them for a few days. I’m sure you could stay with her. Just until your mom gets out of the hospital? What do you think about that?”
“Thanks, but I’m good here,” Zoe said.
The two women exchanged another look. “I’m sorry, Zoe, but we really don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone. If you don’t have anyone to stay with, you’ll need to go to emergency foster care.”
“Emergency…” Zoe’s heart began to thunder. “But I’m … fine here. Really.”
“Zoe.” Chelsea smiled. “Judy is really lovely. You’ll like her.”
Zoe blinked back tears. “Does my mom know about this?”
“As soon as she wakes up we’ll tell her.”
“She won’t like it.” Zoe felt whiney and petulant, like a child.
“Zoe,” Sonja said. “Your mother is very ill. If she knows you’re safe and happy, she can focus on getting better. Honestly, this is best for everyone.”
Zoe tried to focus her thoughts but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything. Kenny the cat appeared at her ankle and she bent to scoop him up. “What about my cat?”
“We can kennel him for a few days,” Chelsea said. “I know a great one not far away. I’ve used it for Lucy, my own cat.”
Zoe hugged Kenny tight. She didn’t care about Lucy.
“I’ll take you over to Judy’s,” Chelsea said. “Why don’t you go pack a bag? Everything will be fine Zoe, don’t you worry.”
Zoe closed her eyes. In a moment she would wake up and find that this whole thing—her mom’s cancer, Emily, foster care—had all been a bad dream. She wanted her mom. She wanted her mom so bad.
*