Forevermore (9 page)

“We could have done that.”

I shook my head and sighed. “Because spending an hour with a screaming baby is better than yard work?”

He scoffed and looked like he was going to backtalk again but realized he did get the better option. Sitting quietly in Briony’s office while she finished her work and then going over to the new parents’ house wouldn’t appeal to any teenager. “Can’t we take a break?”

“We’ll take a lot of breaks before we’re done, big guy. For now, Olivia’s almost done with the hedge line and you guys have barely started ripping out those dead plants. When you’re done with that, we’ll take a break.”

“With sprinklers?” Hank asked.

Lucille banged open the screen door and said, “Smoothies, but only if the chatter stops.”

Olivia giggled as her clippers came closer to where I was standing. “I don’t mind switching if they want to.” Because that was the kind of sweet kid she was.

“They need to finish what they started, darling,” Lucille told her. “When you’re done with the hedge, we’ll start making the smoothies and see how much longer it takes them to finish.”

Olivia smiled and went back to her task. I reached up and put my shoulders into the sawing motion to get this limb down. After storing it in the recycling bin, I headed over to the porch where Lucille had taken a seat. She was fiddling with the flower bed beside her, taking a break while not really taking a break.

“Thank you for doing this, M.”

“Anytime, Lucille. You know that.”

“Should we try this another day?” Her blue eyes were studying the dragging movements of her grandson.

I shook my head. “After Caleb’s birthday, we decided to start making him use more of his free time for chores or work or something that isn’t what he wants to do every moment he wants to do it. We think it’s the best way to instill a sense of responsibility and make him understand that part of being an adult means you’ve got to do a lot of things you don’t want to.”

“A good plan, indeed. I should start the same thing with Hank. He’s been getting more and more lippy of late.”

“Same with Caleb,” I confided. “Briony’s good at handling it, but I just keep looking for ways to cut it off before it progresses to what could become shouting matches in a few years.”

“It’s unavoidable, my dear,” Lucille told me. “Both my kids were right as rain until they turned sixteen. You don’t remember, but you were probably the same way.”

No, I wasn’t. I didn’t have the opportunity. I’d spent my high school years in a detention home for kids who would otherwise be sentenced to juvenile hall but because of the precipitating act were sent to an educational-slash-reform facility. The emphasis was on reform as evidenced by the barbed wire fences, locked dorm rooms, forced labor, and zero liberties. Getting lippy there wouldn’t have resulted in screaming matches. More work, missed meals, or transfers to juvie were how they dealt with lippy teenagers.

“I plan to have Carlton stop by more often when it starts getting really bad. Hank seems to drop any attitude whenever his uncle is around.”

That could happen with role models of the same gender. Briony had already thought about it, which was why Caleb had been spending most of his summers at or near his grandparents’ homes so he could spend time with his grandfathers and uncles.

This summer was going to be a challenge. Since Olivia couldn’t leave the state without permission, the plan this summer was to send the kids to soccer day camp here. I hoped it wouldn’t be more cause for Caleb to act up. He’d have Javier as his assistant coach and Briony and me around more each day. Hopefully that would be enough to quell this recent angst of his. I doubted it would make him drop some of his more lazy tendencies, but it might help him feel more secure.

Other than hoping Olivia would accept our wishes to become part of the family officially, I didn’t have any worries about her attitude or behavior. At least not yet. Both Briony and Lucille seemed to think that would change in a few years, but I wasn’t too worried. My guess was that she’d always remember her experiences in those other foster homes, and while she might become frustrated with us like all teenagers, she’d weigh that against what she might have had and give us a break.

12 / OLIVIA

WHEN BRIONY CAME THROUGH
the front door after work, I knew something was wrong. M was better at hiding her emotions, but Briony looked stressed and upset. Based on the look she was giving me, I knew it was about me. I wanted to run upstairs to my room so that whatever they had to tell me, they couldn’t say. Why did Caleb have to be spending the night at Hank’s? Maybe the news wouldn’t be so bad if he was here.

“Hey, Livy,” Briony greeted me with a hug. “How was your last day of school?”

It had been such a good day. No more sixth grade. No more Krystal and her minions relentlessly hounding me. Next year, I’d get to switch classes every hour, and there was no way Krystal would be in every one. Eden and I celebrated that fact all day today.

“It was okay,” I offered, crossing my fingers that my teacher hadn’t called to say I should be held back. I did much better this year, but maybe I hadn’t passed my reading comprehension test yesterday.

“Bet you’re glad to be done.” M was forcing her smile.

My throat got too dry to swallow. I wanted to hide. They never acted like this. I didn’t think they’d be so disappointed in me that they’d ask me to leave if I got an F in something, but maybe I was wrong. Or maybe they decided that they wanted to go visit Briony’s family in Vermont for the summer and couldn’t get permission to take me with them. My social worker might have said okay for a two week trip. She liked Briony and M, but anything more than that would make her place me in a temporary foster home. It wouldn’t be fun, but as long as I got to come back when they returned from vacation I could put up with any home.

“We have some news, sweetie,” Briony finally said. She grasped my hand and pulled me down to sit next to her on the couch. Her arm came around my shoulder as M took the chair beside us. They both looked like someone had punched them.

I felt like I might barf. My eyes went back and forth between them. They could probably see that I didn’t want them to say whatever they were going to say, but it wouldn’t stop them from saying it.

“You’re sending me to another family,” I guessed quietly. I couldn’t even sound hopeful that it might be a temporary move. Tears started to build in my eyes. I didn’t want to leave them. I hadn’t really cared the last time a family gave me this news, but I didn’t like them anywhere near as much as I liked Briony and M. No, I loved Briony and M and didn’t want to leave them.

“We’d never send you away.” M reached for my hand.

They weren’t sending me away? I was wrong? “I don’t have to leave here?”

M flinched and looked away. “We would never ask you to leave.”

Isn’t that what we both said? If they’re not asking me to leave, then I don’t have to leave. So why did they look so upset?

Briony squeezed me against her. Her whole frame shuddered with the breath she took. “You remember your aunt, Nell?”

I flashed on a young woman with light brown hair and brown eyes like mine and my mom’s. I nodded. “She’s my mom’s younger sister.”

We never saw her much because she lived with my mom’s parents, and they didn’t talk to my mom. She’d always been nice to me, but she’d had to sneak out of the house to see us until she went off to college. When my mom died, I thought she’d come get me. She didn’t. My social worker said that my aunt and my grandparents couldn’t take me. Since I’d never met my grandparents, I wasn’t surprised. They’d kicked my mom out of their house when she wouldn’t agree to give me up for adoption. I was glad I didn’t have to live with them. The guy who was my biological father wanted nothing to do with my mom when she got pregnant. He gave up his parental rights as soon as I was born. I’ve never met him, but I liked Aunt Nell and she knew me. I thought she’d help me. I thought she’d want me.

“She petitioned the court for custody,” Briony said softly.

I shook my head totally confused. “But she didn’t want me. My social worker asked her, and she didn’t want me.”

M knelt on the floor in front of me and reached for my other hand. “Honey, she was in college when your mom died. She probably didn’t feel like she could take care of you then, but she does now. She definitely wants you.”

“Did you talk to her?” Maybe they could talk her out of it.

“Your social worker called us last night,” Briony told me.

“We would have told you, but we wanted to talk to Lauren first,” M added.

Why would they talk to Lauren first before telling me? They probably just wanted me to get through my last day of school. That was actually nice of them.

“It sounds like your aunt has really missed you and wants you to live with her,” Briony said in her everything-is-fine voice.

“Why now?”

They looked at each other. Briony’s eyes started to shimmer, so M spoke up. “She’s done with college. She has a good job and is about to get married. I think she’s really ready for a family. I know it’s confusing, but when someone’s in college, that’s all they can think about. Raising a niece was probably too much real life for her at a time when all she could think about was passing her classes.”

“But now she’s ready, and she’s really excited to see you again,” Briony added in a fake enthusiastic tone. “I bet she’s missed your mom almost as much as you have.”

How could she? She barely spent any time with us. Almost three years later, she hadn’t called once and suddenly she wants me? Just when I’ve found the best place to live with people that I loved. I loved them. I didn’t just like them. Why did I have to leave when I finally started to feel like I really belonged somewhere? When I felt like I had real parents again? This was so unfair.

“Can you try to give her a chance, Olivia?” M asked.

I wanted to cry. For days and days and never stop, like when my mom died. I didn’t want to leave here, but they were saying I had to. Maybe if I asked I wouldn’t have to go. I never asked for anything. It might work if I asked just this once. “Can’t I stay here? Please? I’ll be really good. I’ll do more chores, and I’ll study really hard so I won’t have to bother you for homework help anymore. I’ll get a job to help pay for things. Please? I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with you.”

Briony let out a sob and tears poured out of her eyes. M tipped up and pulled me into a hug. She trembled and her voice sounded thick. “Honey, we want you to stay. We want that more than anything, but Lauren told us the law on this. We can’t keep you if your aunt wants you. We would never ask you to leave, but we can’t keep you.”

I couldn’t stay because my aunt, a person I barely know, wants me now. When I had foster parents who wanted to keep me for maybe another whole year, someone comes along and takes me away. This wasn’t fair. My mom dying wasn’t fair. Being tossed from home to home wasn’t fair. The only fair thing to happen to me in three years was now being yanked away from me.

“We don’t want you to go. We want you to stay. If we could fight this legally, we would. Do you understand that?” M whispered next to my ear.

My eyes filled with tears. I nodded and hugged her tight then pushed away and ran up to my room. They couldn’t do anything to change this, and I didn’t want them to feel worse than they already seemed to.

I flopped onto my bed and cried for a really long time. So long I felt tired afterward. My whole body ached, but I slid off the bed and went to my closet. It wasn’t like I really wanted to pack, but I had to. Looking up, I remembered that I’d need to drag my chair over to the closet to reach my duffle bag. I started pulling out the clothes I remembered bringing. The social worker could show up at any time and I had to be ready. I hoped it wouldn’t be till tomorrow so I could say goodbye to Caleb.

“Olivia?” M’s voice came through the door as she knocked lightly. This was the only foster home where the parents knocked on the door before coming inside.

I swiped my sleeve under my nose and rubbed my face. “Come in.”

The door opened and M looked inside. Her eyes landed on my clothes. They widened. “You’re not leaving tonight, sweetie. I’m so sorry. We should have told you that.”

“Oh.” I looked at my clothes then turned and sat on my bed. “When?”

“A judge decides on Monday, but we’re not sure of your aunt’s timeline. We’ve asked your social worker to arrange a meeting, but we haven’t heard back on that. We’ll tell you as soon as we know.”

“Monday, probably?”

“It’s possible.”

I nodded and started folding my clothes to place in the duffle. They’d have to come off my bed before I could sleep anyway.

M looked like she couldn’t decide if she should help me. “Your clothes won’t fit in your duffle anymore. We could get you a nice suitcase with wheels tomorrow if you want.”

I shook my head. They shouldn’t have to spend any money on me now. “They fit before.”

“But you have more clothes now.”

I looked up at her. She had brown eyes just like me and my mom. Sometimes I could see my mom in those eyes. “Those clothes aren’t mine. If you get another foster kid, you’ll need them.”

She brought her hand up and gripped my chin. “Those are your clothes, Olivia. They’re yours. We would have gotten you more if you’d let us. I’ll help you pack, but not because I want you to leave. We want you to stay for as long as you want to stay with us. But I have to believe that living with your mom’s sister is going to be good for you. I bet you’ll get used to living with her in no time and you’ll love it as much as I hope you love living here.”

No way that would happen, but she was trying to make this okay for me. I wanted to believe her. “Okay.”

She brought my duffle down from the top rack and grabbed the clothes I thought I should leave behind from the hangers. I was glad to be able to take them because I couldn’t fit into some of my old clothes anymore. We began folding some things and making room in my duffle for them. It didn’t take long. She was good at packing. All that hung in my closet now were the things I’d wear for the next couple of days.