ALLIE STEPPED INTO the family’s dining room to find Hannah and her parents already sitting down. She stood in the doorway, her heart beating miles a minute.
“Ted, Claire, this is Allie,” Hannah announced from her seat.
Ted stood and extended his hand. “I’m Ted, Hannah’s stepfather. It’s very nice of you to join us.”
“Hi,” Allie said, taking the man’s hand, self-conscious that her palm was clammy. He was the man she’d seen working in the yard at Miss Bitty’s. He was a decent-looking older man, except for the outdated feathered hair and a couple of twisted front teeth.
She noticed the handshake seemed to be lasting too long.
He quickly released his grip. “I’ve seen you a few times at Miss Bitty’s. I help out with projects over there from time to time. Miss Bitty,” he said, smiling, “she’s a remarkable woman.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“And as Hannah so politely announced, my name is Claire,” the woman said primly, her hazel eyes icy. “Now, come sit down so we can get started.” She pointed to the empty space across from her.
Allie walked around the table and sat, careful to keep her spine straight and her chin high. High enough to appear confident, but not so high as to appear arrogant or anything.
She stole a quick look at Claire. She was thin. Borderline too thin, actually. So why was she seeing Miss Bitty to lose weight?
That’s odd.
Her eyes flitted from Claire to Ted to Hannah. Everyone was looking at her. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach.
“Do you like Hamburger Helper, dear?” Claire asked, picking up a big yellow bowl.
Allie brought her hand to the side of her face. “Uh, sure, thanks.”
The woman handed her the bowl and Allie started spooning the food onto her plate.
“Imitation mashed potatoes?” Hannah asked, her words slurring, as she held out another big bowl. “Claire uses the fake flakes. It’s really tasty.”
Claire shot Hannah a look. Then her cool hazel eyes returned to Allie. They probed, scrutinizing her. Surely Claire was skeptical of her being worthy enough to be friends with her daughter. To be eating Hamburger Helper at her nice dinner table.
Willing her hands not to shake, Allie took the bowl and spooned the mashed potatoes next to the pasta and meat. A panicky sensation brewed in her stomach, making it go sour.
It was past six o’clock and the light in the room was just starting to slant. It was the time of day when Allie’s mood naturally darkened. The time of day she used to go searching for her brother when she was a kid. Again, she wished she hadn’t come. That she was back at Miss Bitty’s, where she was finally becoming comfortable.
Hannah continued. “Hamburger Helper, powdered mashed potatoes, corn from a can. Hormones, pesticides, GMOs, deadly hydrogenated oils with a side of BPA . . . all of which will probably lead to a cancer or two,” Hannah said with a smirk. Her eyes flicked to Allie’s. “You might want to puke after eating this.”
“That’s enough, Hannah,” Claire snapped. She turned her attention to Allie. “Hannah’s become quite the expert on nutrition lately. So much so it’s very difficult to please her with normal food.”
Allie nodded silently.
The woman picked up a wineglass and took a sip. “So. What do your parents do, Allie?”
Hannah dropped her fork on her plate. “Mom, I just told you not five minutes ago she doesn’t have parents! Miss Bitty’s her foster mother.”
Claire shot her daughter another nasty look. “I was just making polite conversation, Hannah!”
“But that’s dumb. If you already know something—”
Ted cleared his throat but said nothing.
Claire sighed. She picked up a bowl of corn and thrust it toward Allie. “Corn, dear?”
Allie shook her head.
The bowl landed back on the table with a thud.
Allie slanted a look at Ted. The man was staring at her, chewing his food. She looked away and rearranged some of the food on her plate.
Hannah’s tone softened. “Am I right, Ted? Especially something like that. I mean, why bring up something so sensitive when you already know—”
Claire’s eyes darted to her husband.
Ted cleared his throat again. “Hannah, sweetheart, why don’t we just change the subject.”
“Well, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Claire said. “About you being an orphan. I really am.”
Allie shifted in her seat and bit down on her bottom lip so hard she immediately tasted blood.
The room became quiet.
Sighing, Hannah pulled a couple of pills out of her pocket, stuck them in her mouth, and chased them with her glass of water.
“What did you just put in your mouth?” Claire demanded.
“They’re aspirins. I have a headache. Can you blame me?”
“Since when does aspirin slur your speech?”
“I’m not slurring!” Hannah slurred.
Claire sighed but said nothing.
“So, Ted. Allie said she’s never gone alligator wrestling. Guess it’s not as popular as we thought,” Hannah said.
“No? Never been?” Ted asked, wiping his mouth, his eyes on Allie again. “I’ll find a place where we can watch people do it, honey. I know how much it means to you.”
“I still don’t understand the fascination,” Claire said. “Sounds really silly if you ask me.”
“No one did,” Hannah retorted.
Claire’s face twitched and she stood up. “Okay, I’ve had about as much as I can take. I’m sorry you had to see this . . . this . . .”—she motioned toward Hannah—“circus.” She threw her napkin on her plate. “Nice meeting you, Allie.”
The woman was right. It was a circus. Allie never would’ve guessed Hannah’s family was so dysfunctional just by looking at them. Somehow Hannah and her parents made Allie’s little family at Miss Bitty’s look more normal. It made her appreciate her situation even more.
The woman went to the doorway, then turned, her eyes blazing. “Oh, and Allie? One word of advice. I wouldn’t trust my daughter if I were you. I just wouldn’t.”