CHAPTER FORTY-FIVEEDITH
Bea is bouncing with excitement. “I can’t wait!”
I’ve already helped her change into her new sequin party dress. Patricia was so excited about the Unity Celebration, she bought both of us new dresses for the dance. She surprised us with them after dinner last night. I was afraid to ask how expensive they were.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” I tell Bea as I brush out her hair. The sound of the brush gliding through her soft, long locks reminds me of home.
“I will,” Bea says. “If anything happens, we can just go berserk.”
“We can’t count on that.”
Ever since I confronted the truth of what happened to our mom, the animal in my chest has quieted. I thought this was what I wanted, but I feel empty without it. I hadn’t realized how much a part of me it was.
“Our mom was a berserkr, too,” I say, lowering the brush to my lap. “No one knew because she never went berserk…” My voice trails off.Until the very end,I don’t add.
“What was she like?” Bea asks quietly. “You know, our mom.”
My chest squeezes. This is something I’ve never wanted to talk about with Bea before. But maybe it’s better for both of us if we do. Even if she doesn’t remember them, they were her parents too. I try to think of the good times with Mom so I can share them with Bea.
“She had the biggest heart,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “She loved to laugh. A lot like you, actually. You remind me of her so much. She’d always sing along to the radio as loud as she could, not caring if anyone was listening. She worked at the laundromat, so we spent a lot of time together there, but she always made it fun. We’d make a game out of seeing who could collect the most lint or fold clothes the fastest. When she read to me, she’d do all the silly voices and really act the book out. The one thing she couldn’t do was cook. She even burned bacon. But honestly… I miss the taste of it now.”
Bea wrinkles her nose. “She doesn’t sound anything like Patricia.”
“Yeah,” I admit. “Mom tried her hardest, but she struggled with severe depression, so sometimes she could barely take care of herself, let alone me. But they do have some things in common,” I add, trying to stay upbeat. “You know how Patricia always caves whenever you ask her for something? Mom was the same way with me. And like Patricia, she’d drop everything to take us to the doctor or make sure I never missed classes, no matter how bad things got with Dad. She always put us first.”
As I say the words, I realize why.
Mom and Patricia both love us.
“I miss Mom and Dad,” Bea says, her voice quiet. I don’t know who she’s talking about—our birth parents or Jim and Patricia. But for the first time, I realize maybe it doesn’t matter. Jim and Patriciaareour parents too.
“They should be here soon,” I remind her. “They insisted on seeing us before the dance.”
There’s a knock at the door.
Bea leaps up and throws it open. Jim and Patricia are standing there. Their eyes are wet as they scoop Bea up into a hug. I hang back, standing beside my bed. Jim looks up at me and smiles. “You both look beautiful.”
“I missed you,” Bea says tearily, nuzzling into Patricia.
Jim pats her shoulder gently, smiling as he takes in the sight of her.
As he stands there politely with his button-down blue shirt and khakis, it feels like I’m actually seeing him for the first time. Something finally clicks into place. Jimisn’tDad. He’s never once hurt Patricia in all the years we’ve lived with them. He barely even raises his voice.
He would never hurt any of us.
I join Jim and Patricia, wrapping my arms around both of them. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Of course,” Jim says, patting my back. “We wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“Are you girls all ready?” Patricia asks, finally letting go of Bea.
Bea twirls, and her sequin dress sparkles as she does.
Patricia laughs. “Looks like you are.”
“Edith isn’t,” Bea says.
“Well, why don’t I step out and let you finish up,” Jim says. “I could use a bite to eat. I’ll find my way to the cafeteria.”
