“Hello. This is James,” I say, voice steady, emotions cut off.
“Hello. This is James Valentine? Originally from Rogue River Oregon?” asks a woman with a soft voice.
“This is he.”
“I’m Rebecca Johnson, a social worker for the Department of Children’s Services in Jackson County, Oregon. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your mother, Sandra Valentine, passed away a few weeks ago. We have your siblings, Nash and Sadie, placed in a short-term foster home. They didn’t know your phone number or where you live, but we were finally able to locate you and…”
Her words continue, but I can’t hear any of them. There’s nothing but a muffled echo in my head.
Dead. She’s dead. I’m probably supposed to feel something hearing that, but I don’t. My mother was never a mother to me. She was selfish and neglectful. She never cared about me. But then I realize what else this woman said… “Siblings?” I don’t have siblings. I am an only child—at least, I had been when I left.
“Oh,” she says gently, like it just dawned on her. “I thought you knew since they’re the ones who told us they have an older brother. Nash is fifteen, and Sadie is eleven. They said they never met you, but I didn’t consider that you didn’t know about them.”
Anger scorches across my skin, makes me feel like I’m burning alive. So many of the things I lived through as a child come flooding back—the revolving men, the neglect, the days left alone, the filthy house, going hungry, the too small clothes, being made fun of at school, teachers pulling me aside to ask if I was okay, to tell me I stank, her telling me she didn’t want me, that I was useless, that I ruined her life. And then after I left, she had two more kids?
Did she put them through the same hell she put me through? Did she make them feel like they were nothing but a burden? Did they have to be the adults in the house, even when they were young, because she didn’t know how to be?
They still are young.
“Mr. Valentine?” Rebecca asks. “At this time, we don’t have anywhere for your brother and sister to go long term. We’re working to place them in long-term care, but we don’t have enough foster families or resources. There’s no guarantee we can keep them together or that we’ll find a home for them at all. They’ll likely be placed in separate group homes if we can’t find long-term placement.”
My head spins. My heart feels like it’s going to punch through my body. My chest is tight, and I try to steady my breathing, try not to lose my shit because I’m in control, damn it.Icontrol my life, not Sandra, not this social worker, nor anyone else.
“You’d like them to live with me?” I finally manage to say.It took me longer to get there than it should have. Obviously, that’s why she’s calling.
I don’t know the first thing about raising kids. Hell, I’ve never wanted kids. I vowed that when I was probably ten years old. I would never make someone suffer the way I did, and I would never bring children into this world because…what if I was just like her? I’ve done everything in my power to be nothing like her, but what if I am?
“That would be the preference, yes. We prefer to try and place children with family if we can. Sadie’s father passed away, and Nash’s has been in and out of his life. Nash’s father has been in some trouble with the law—nothing major, but we can’t find him or any other next of kin. Can you come? To Oregon? And at least meet them and we can discuss what would happen from there? There’s a process we’d have to go through, background checks and some other steps, but if you’re approved to take them, at least they would be together.”
You don’t know how to raise children. You can’t even have functional friendships. How do you expect to do this?
I squeeze my eyes shut as if that will quiet the voices inside my head. “Yes. I’ll come.”
*
It’s hard tofocus on anything Rebecca says to me as we stand in the hallway at the CPS building. I don’t think my pulse has slowed down at all since the moment she called me the day before. Words likehome visits,temporary custody, and the process to move the children out of state are all a blur. She says it’d be much easier if I moved to Oregon, but I can’t do that. My job is in Virginia. My life.
I got the first flight out of DC, and now here I am, backin Jackson County, a place I swore I would never see again, to meet siblings I didn’t know I have, and go through the process to see if I’m approved to take them home with me.
“How long would it take? To get approved to bring them home?”
“Honestly? I can’t say. It’s usually a very long process, but again, due to lack of resources here, it might be something we can speed up if it’s what’s best for the kids.” I nod, still trying to wrap my head around what’s happening as she continues. “Nash is…very angry at the world. And fiercely protective of Sadie.”
“He’s probably spent his life taking care of her,” I say, emotionless. I can’t let that shit out. Hell, I don’t even want to feel anything right now. If I’d had a younger sibling back then, that’s what I would have done.
I’m so fucking angry at the woman beside me, even though I know none of it is her fault. Why did they allow my mom to keep Nash and Sadie? Why was she allowed to keep me?
Rebecca doesn’t respond, just leading me to the door of the room I assume the kids are in. Apparently, they were brought here from the temporary foster home to meet me.
“Are you ready?” Rebecca asks.
I give a nod, unable to make words break free, before she opens the door…and there they are, sitting on a couch, close together. Nash looks long and lean. Are fifteen-year-olds usually that long? He seems like he’ll be tall when he stands up. He has dark hair like me, but his is long and flopping like he hasn’t had a haircut in a while. He’s pale, even lighter than me, which surprises me for someone his age, like he doesn’t get out in the sun.
Sadie is little—unlike him, she seems small for her age. She’s also got black hair, hers thick and tied back, some curlsfalling out. She’s got light-brown skin and dark, wide eyes. The second she sees me, she reaches for his hand, and he takes it, comforting her.
Rebecca closes the door behind us. “Nash, Sadie, this is your older brother James. He’s very excited to meet you both.”
“If he’s so excited, where the fuck has he been all our lives? He never gave a shit about us before, and he doesn’t give a shit about us now. He’s only here because he’s stuck with us…or for the money he’ll get for taking us in.” Nash scowls at me, and I can’t say I don’t understand his anger.
