“We’re making turkeys for Thanksgiving,” I blurt out as I try to change the subject. Anna is mean to me all the time; sometimes, Mrs. Talbot sees her, but most often she doesn’t. Since I’m not a tattletale, I never say a word, my Aunt Alice’s warning at the forefront of my mind.
“Listen here, you little brat, if you say anything to anyone, they’ll take you away and put you in foster care,” Aunt Alice sneered. “You should be happy that I was willing to take you in as it is. So, stop your sniveling, and go clean the kitchen.”
“Becca? Sweetheart? Why are you crying?” Mrs. Talbot asks. She sounds almost scared right now and I glance up to see her staring at me from the rearview mirror.
Raising my hand, I feel that my cheeks are wet, but instead of answering, I just shake my head. I know Aunt Alice is in jail now; the social worker and Mrs. Talbot thought it would be good for me to know because when I first came, I had horrible nightmares. Still, even though I know I’m safe now, the memories are there, and they jump into my brain at the weirdest times.
“It’s okay. Now, what’s this about making turkeys?” she questions.
“We’re writing things we’re grateful for on the feathers, and Miss Anne is helping us to put them on with glue sticks,” I reply.
“Well, when we’re doing your homework tonight, how about I help you come up with some words for your feathers?” Mrs. Talbot asks.
“Okay. I don’t have much, just a color sheet,” I reply.
After dinner, my bath, and a snack, Mrs. Talbot comes in to tuck me in. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she picks up the book we’ve been reading. Before she starts, she looks at me, all tucked in, and says, “This weekend, we’re going to shop for stuff for our Thanksgiving meal. You’ll come with me.”
“Really?” Excitement thrums through me. Mrs. Talbot doesn’t treat me like I’m dumb. She teaches me a lot of things that I probably should already know, but she never acts like myquestions bother her. I wish I could stay here, and I will, of course, but it’ll just be as her foster daughter.
She smiles at my expression. “Yes, really. Also, Anna will be going to her birth parent’s house for the weekend.”
Now I’m confused, so I ask, “Why? I don’t understand.”
“So, sometimes in foster care, children have no family who is able to take them in and raise them. Other children are temporarily removed from their homes and the parents have to take care of the things that caused the child to come into foster care. That’s called reunification, and Anna’s parents are working their plan. This weekend is the first step in her going home for good.”
“Oh.” A new worry has me asking, “Will I have to do that with my aunt?”
Please say no, please say no,my mind whispers as I clutch my blanket.
“No, sweetie, that won’t happen. You’re what is called a ward of the state and will stay in foster care unless someone adopts you or you turn eighteen.”
“Will I stay here until then?” I question.
“As far as I’m concerned, yes, you will. But, Becca, you need to understand that sometimes, that choice is out of my hands,” she replies. “However, right now, you’re here. Now, let’s see where we were at with Frog and Toad.”
I giggle because they’re two friends and they get into some funny adventures. “Okay, Mrs. Talbot,” I whisper. “I’m ready.”
CHAPTER
ONE
Marnie
“He’s the most infuriating man,” I grumble to Holly as we walk through the store.
PJ is at home with his great-grandmother, since we’re at the beginning of cold and flu season and he’s still so young. Apparently, RSV is also a genuine concern, so Holly and Rebel keep his exposure to others contained to her grandparents, her ex’s father, Samuel, and of course, the club brothers. However, Mina and Ruby are with us, chattering away and completely ignoring the two of us.
“Why’s that?” she asks, grinning over at me.
“Because hestillwon’t touch me!” I hiss through clenched teeth. “Don’t get me wrong, we’ve definitely had our share of fun, but he hasn’t sealed the deal.”
She giggles then leans in and whispers, “Rebel’s been holding off too, Marnie. It’s not us, it’s their fear that’s keeping them from giving us the good stuff. We’re still recovering, remember?”
“I know that in here,” I say, pointing to my head, “but in here,” I continue, pointing to my chest, “Iache, Holly. It’s making me feel some kind of way, to be honest. I know PJ’s delivery was traumatic and you have your own scars you’re dealing with, but my whole belly is a hot mess. Maybe that’s why?” I muse.
“Stop, Marnie. Just talk to him. He’s a reasonable man, after all. Plus, don’t forget that he’s had to take on a lot of extra shit while Rebel finishes his own healing,” she replies.
“Becca!” Mina exclaims, running toward a little girl standing with a woman I recognize.
