“Well, now I just sound like a bitch.”
His eyes soften, and he reaches to squeeze my hand. “No,Ev. You’ve been screwed over too many times by too many people. You’re scared because you like him and you don’t want to get hurt again. We screw up our relationships in different ways, but underneath our reasons are the same.”
No one understands better than Ian the damage done by a childhood in the system. Having countless people claim to care for you, even love you, until you make a mistake. Then it’s on to the next one, never knowing where you’ll end up, only that you’ll be alone. Everything is temporary and out of our control.
“I just don’t want you to run away from every chance at happiness,” Ian adds.
Nodding, I take a drink of my lemonade to wash down the lump in my throat. “I want the same for you.”
“If I meet someone half as good as you, I’ll give her a chance.” His mischievous smile makes me grin. “Until then, I’m going to nail this waitress who keeps picturing me naked.”
“Who said romance is dead?” I laugh.
“It’s no date to bottle feed a panda, but she’ll enjoy it,” he teases, leaning to hug me. He drops a twenty on the table. “Be good, pup. Love ya.”
“Love ya.”
Thankfully, the next week is uneventful compared to the hectic one before. Mason and I text each other a few times, and I have to admit, I like the back and forth. My phone wakes me early Friday morning, and Danny chuckles at my mumbled hello.
“Ev? I’m sorry to wake you, but we have a situation here today. Monica has a family emergency and Stacy can’t come in until three. Can you please help us out?”
“Be there in an hour.”
“You’re the best.”
“I’m aware. You better have coffee.”
At least I’m able to beat the rush hour traffic. I arrive at Building Tomorrow’s Child just as the older kids are leaving for school. “Thank God for you, Ev. Ally is home with a cold. She’s asleep in her room, but we need to watch her fever. We also have a new boy who arrived last night, and he needs some one on one time, which is hard to do with two wild four year olds runningaround.” He eyes the twins who are fighting over an action figure.
“I’ll keep an eye on Ally and hang out with the new boy.”
“His name is Matthew and he’s pretty upset. His parents were busted growing a few pot plants. They took him straight out of his bed yesterday morning. On his eighth birthday, no less.”
“Poor kid. I’ll talk to him.” The ridiculous pot laws in our state separate more children from their parents than actual abuse. While other states are decriminalizing marijuana, or at least reducing the penalty to a fine, Indiana has clamped down.
Offenders who are caught growing can get a year in prison for each plant. They’re charged with intent to distribute, whether or not they’re actually selling it. I’ve seen some get more time than child molesters, rapists, and murderers. Where’s the justice in that?
While Danny takes the twins out to play, I settle on the small sofa beside Matthew. He’s curled up against the arm, staring blankly at a commercial on television. “Can I watch with you?” I’m rewarded with a small nod. “My name is Everly, but everyone calls me Ev. Should I call you Matthew, or do you like Matt better?”
“Matty,” he whispers.
“I’m happy to meet you, Matty. I’m sorry to see you so sad, though. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Drug dealers are bad people,” he says, turning to regard me with a miserable look. “My teacher said so.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Matty. Everyone makes mistakes. It doesn’t mean they’re bad.”
“My mommy and daddy aren’t bad. I wanna go home,” he wails, and I pull him into my lap, rocking him and letting him cry. Sometimes, it’s all you can do. These kids break my heart in a thousand different ways.
“I’ll never see them again.”
I turn him to face me. Pale green eyes gaze into mine, pleading for me to make it all better. “Listen to me, Matty. You’ll see your mom and dad again. I know this is scary and you feel like you’re all alone, but it’ll get better. You aren’t alone.”
“When can I go home?”
“I don’t know, honey. It isn’t up to me. A judge has to sayit’s okay first. Until that happens, Danny, Monica, and the other counselors will take good care of you. If you’re hurt or scared, or just bored, you can go to them.”
He scoots off my lap and scrubs the tears off his cheek. “What about you?”
