“Come on, now,” Mrs. Grissom says as she eases away from the institution and heads down the gravel. “Was it really so terrible?”
I turn to her. “You do know what they did to me, don’t you? What they do to other people in there?”
Mrs. Grissom nods to the gatehouse attendant as we pass through. “Look. The decisions regarding your care at the institution weren’t up to me.”
“How can you say they weren’t up to you?” I shoot back as we turn onto the main road. “You brought me to that place. And you abandoned me there.”
“I didn’t abandon you there. That place was where I had been instructed to bring you. It was believed by everyone who looked at your case file that it was the place where you needed to be assessed so that you could get the help you required. The fact that you were an orphaned minor and pregnant and unable to name the father—”
“I never said I was unable to name the father.”
“All right. Unwilling to name the father, plus those hallucinations of yours—”
“They’re not hallucinations. I just see colors in my head when I hear sounds. It’s that simple. They’re not hallucinations.”
Mrs. Grissom shakes her head as if in annoyance. “That’s certainly not what anyone else sees when they hear sounds, I can tell you that. And, Rosie, you had better be just letting off a little steam right now, because we’re all taking a risk by letting you out of that place. I was told you were ready for this. Ready to be out. You want to go back to the institution, then by all means keep this up. I doubt they have filled your bed already.”
I shut my mouth and turn to face the road ahead. My heart is pounding not only in irritation but also in panic that Mrs. Grissom might turn the car around. “I do not want to go back.”
“I’m relieved to hear that. Please tell me you’re ready for this next step. That you’re ready to be out.”
I swallow the knot of fear bobbing at the back of my throat. “I am.”
“Then you need to stop it with this talk of visions of colors. You understand? You need to stop it. I don’t want you talkingabout them at the group home and I don’t want you talking about them at the new job, you understand? You talk like that and it sounds like you’re delusional. I don’t care how harmless this all seems to you. It’s actually pretty weird to everybody else, so just stop it.”
We are quiet for a moment. I feel two hot tears escape my bottom eyelids and start to slip down my cheeks. I swipe them away.
Mrs. Grissom casts a glance at me and then exhales heavily. A gentleness returns to her voice when she speaks again. “I am sorry about what they did to you there. I am. They felt it was necessary, and I am not a doctor. It was their decision to make and they made it. I can see that you’re upset and angry about it, but Rosie, your life is not over because of this. You can still have a happy life.”
“I can’t have children now. And the only one I did have was taken from me.”
“Let’s not pretend you were ready to be a mother when that baby was born. And I understand you are sad that you can’t have more children. But you can still have a full life. Some people can’t have children or don’t marry, so they never have the chance. My husband and I wanted kids; we never had any. But that doesn’t mean we haven’t been happy.”
“But your husband married you thinking you could have children. No one’s going to want me. Not now.”
“You don’t know that. Sometimes you have to go relentlessly looking for your happiness, Rosie. You might have to be more intentional than most. I know a lot of terrible things have happened to you, but one day when you are fully on your own, you will be able to start making more of your own decisions. Today is the first step toward that. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
I hesitate only a moment before saying yes.
“Now, if you’re done being angry about the past, I would liketo spend the next few minutes here in the car talking about the future. Your future. And I don’t mean the future way off in the distance. I mean tomorrow and the next day and the next day. Can we talk about that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We’re headed to Petaluma. It’s down the road another half hour or so. There’s a group home there licensed by Sonoma County that will be your home until your twenty-first birthday unless you do something to mess that up. The woman who runs the place is Mrs. Clark. She’s a bit like a mother and a bit like a parole officer and a bit like a landlord. You will be expected to comply with her expectations. I mean it, Rosie. You need to do what she says. The world is full of rules, honestly it is. For all of us. So you’re going to have to learn to live by them. You cannot attempt an escape of any kind, do you understand?”
Mrs. Grissom waits until I say yes, I do.
“Your every movement will be monitored, and if all goes well with Mrs. Clark and the group home and at your new job—it’s in the kitchen of a very nice hotel—then on your twenty-first birthday you will be fully released from the county’s and state’s supervision. You can start making all your own decisions then. If at that point you want to tell people you see strange colors that no one else sees, I won’t be able to stop you, but I am telling you that no good will come to you if you keep going on about them. All right?”
I know how to keep the colors a secret. Mrs. Grissom is acting as if I haven’t any idea how or why I need to. I know exactly why I need to.
“Yes,” I say.
“Great. I’ll be checking in with you and Mrs. Clark from time to time, and I am expecting to hear only glowing reports. Glowing. Now, first I’m taking you to lunch and then we’ll do a littleshopping, since you have practically nothing and it is, after all, your birthday. Plus, those shoes you’re wearing are hideous.”
A limp grin tugs at the corners of my mouth. I want to say,You should see what they sound like, but I don’t think Mrs. Grissom will find it funny.
Instead, I thank her for the new dress.
