Sara Lost and Found (22 page)

“Let me see, let me see.” Kevin jumps in front of me for a closer look. I bend over and show him.

He turns and pulls his dad's arm down for a whisper. “Should I tell her the heart's broke?”

Mr. Chandler scruffs Kevin's hair. “She knows,” he whispers back. “The necklace was made that way.”

“Oh,” Kevin answers, but I know he doesn't understand.

I walk beside them, happy about my necklace and how great it feels to get back something I thought I had lost, and how happy I am to be part of a family that really loves me and cares about what I'm doing and feeling.

Later, back at home, as I put Mama's photo and letter, Ben's penny, and Abby's plastic arm in the box that Pablo gave me, I feel something else, too.

A sense of hope.

THE NEXT MORNING, LEXIE RACES
over, waving the paper wildly. “Look, Sara! There really is a story about us in the
Oakview Daily News
!” She hands it to me, and I can't believe my eyes. Along with the photo is a story all about A Cause for Paws.

“We'll get copies and frame them!” Lexie announces, eyeing Mr. Chandler's thin French pancakes. He invites her to join us, and we wolf them down. Between bites, we talk about new ways to make our foster kitten program a success. But the whole time we're eating and talking, I'm smiling inside. Daddy will see my picture. Daddy will take me home.

At school, kids crowd around us, taking flyers faster than we can pass them out. One kid even asks me to sign the flyer. I sign it
Sara Olson
. My writing's not very good, but he doesn't seem to care.

*  *  *

On Saturday, Dr. Davis gives the kittens checkups, and she even keeps a lot of them at the animal hospital so people can go there to adopt them.

A local pet store called Meow 'N' Friends supplies a month's worth of free cat food to High Sierra Convalescent Center, and KUNV continues to mention our Cause for Paws campaign on their public service announcements.

To prepare for Halloween on Monday, Mr. Chandler steps up onto a ladder to hang a hairy spider over the front door to scare the trick-or-treaters. Mrs. Chandler adjusts the tail on Kevin's dragon costume. Kevin wiggles and shakes.

“Be still, Kev, if you want this tail to last the night.”

Kevin grins and finally settles down.

“Sara? We have something important to talk to you about,” Mrs. Chandler says.

I look up from a nose-and-whiskers mask I'm making for my cat costume and see them lined up like birds on a wire, looking down at me. My chest tightens.

“Like what?” I figure I know what's coming. They're moving, or another kid needs a placement and they can't keep me, or . . . they don't want to be a foster family anymore. But their faces don't look like bad news.

“Like whether you'd like to become a more permanent part of our family.”

“You mean—” I don't finish the thought.

Mrs. Chandler steps toward me and smiles. “We'd like to adopt you, Sara. It's not going to happen overnight. We'll need letters of release from your mother and father, and the paperwork is a nightmare, but if it's all right with you, we really want you to join our family.”

We'd like to adopt you.
The magic words dance in my head. “Adopt me?” My mind whirls. They want me!

“What about Anna?” I watch an uneasy look pass between Mr. and Mrs. Chandler.

Mr. Chandler walks over and sits down beside me on the couch. Kevin is as quiet as he's ever been and stares at his dad.

“We don't want you to think we're not being honest with you, Sara, so I'll tell you that it would be very hard for us to take Anna right now. She needs—” Mr. Chandler looks at his wife for the right phrase.

“Special help?” I fill in the blank for him while everything in me collapses. “Can I just see her?” I watch the spider's shadow dance on the wall behind them, as if it, too, is trying to get away from something. The truth, maybe.

“We won't say you can,” Mr. Chandler explains gently, “but we won't say you can't, either, because the fact is, right now we simply don't know.”

“We're working with Mrs. Craig and the residential center to see if there's a possibility of working out visitations,” Mrs. Chandler adds, “but I won't lie to you, Sara. These things take time.”

I nod. I know how long everything takes. They don't need to tell me.

A thought troubles me, though.
If they adopt me, do I keep my last name? Or will I have to change it to theirs?

“If you adopt me, what will I be called?”

“We don't need to decide that now. But even if you keep your last name, when we adopt you, you'll be a member of our family,” Mr. Chandler adds, urging Kevin to come sit with him. Kevin lifts his dragon feet high and tromps across the room. He plops down hard on his dad's lap.

When we adopt you.
There they are again. The magic words. I think back to Pablo and how he must have felt. Still, their questions leave me feeling funny inside. If I give up my last name, am I giving up on my family? On Anna?
You're an Olson, Sara. You'll always be an Olson. Never forget that.

Daddy's words ring in my ears.

I try to think of times other people change their names. Criminals sometimes change their names. I've stolen things, so that kind of fits, but I don't want to feel like a criminal. Actors and musicians sometimes use other names. I want to be a singer, so that kind of fits.

Women change their names when they get married. Well, it'll be a long time before I get married, but then I remember something else. Sometimes women hyphenate their old names with their new ones. Maybe I could be Sara Olson-Chandler. That way, if they ever came back to get me, Mama and Daddy would see I not only kept my name, but I also kept my word.

Mrs. MacMillan would have liked the sound of that—keeping my word.

“You still look worried, Sara. Is it about your name? You don't need to decide anything about that now.” Mrs. Chandler stands and offers me a hand to stand too. I grab it and pull myself to my feet. Her eyes are warm and loving, but I see hurt in them. I know she had hoped my answer would be “Yes, I want to be part of this family!” without any hesitation.

I walk over and hug her, not wanting to see the pain anymore. I feel Kevin's arms wrap around us from behind.

*  *  *

I lie awake that night, thinking about the bed on the floor at my old house and the cold rooms. The empty cupboards.

Since moving in with the Chandlers, I've found Sneaker, made friends with Lexie and Skeeter, learned to read with Ben Silverman, started a new school—and now, I might even get adopted.

In a way, it's like magic. One minute you don't belong anywhere, and the next you're a member of a family. I remind myself of what Mrs. Chandler said about it taking a long time, and how Mama and Daddy would have to give up their rights to me. Just thinking the words—
give up their rights
—makes me want to cry.

Instead, I slip out of bed and stand by the mirror. “Sara Olson-Chandler,” I whisper. “Sara Olson-Chandler. What do you think, Cowwy? Should I make a brand-new start with a brand-new name?” I press her against my cheek and search her one-eyed, pouty face for an answer.

“Meow,” I answer for her.

I crawl back into bed. It's so warm and soft—the way beds are supposed to feel—and for some strange reason, I'm reminded of that first bite into a slice of hot buttered toast. The blanket wraps around me like one of Daddy's old hugs. As I drift off to sleep, I run my fingers across the half-heart necklace around my neck and pull Cowwy close.

“I bet they even know that tomorrow isn't just Halloween. It's my eleventh birthday,” I whisper.

AS I HEAD DOWNSTAIRS THE
next morning, I hear voices in the kitchen.

“Shhhhh! She'll hear us.”

“Ow, Kevin! You stepped on my foot.”

“Sorry.”

“Skeeter, move over. I can't straighten out my leg.”

“Want me to pull it? Pull your leg, get it?”

“I don't get it,” Kevin whispers.

“Shhhh! Here she comes.”

Silence.

“Surprise!”

If my mouth opens any wider, it could fit a grapefruit in it. The kitchen is full of stray cats, a dragon, a couple of witches, a vampire, and a goblin. Of course, I recognize the voices of Lexie, Skeeter, Kevin, and all the grown-ups. I scan the masks, hoping to see Anna hiding under one of them. It would be the best surprise of all. But she's not there.

“Happy birthday!” everyone shouts at once.

“Thanks.” I force a smile. “I don't know what to say.”

“Say cheese!” Mr. Anderson calls out, clicking the camera. The flash almost blinds me.

“Cheese,” I say too late.

“Make a wish,” Mrs. Chandler says, bringing out a cake shaped just like a black Halloween cat, with
Happy Birthday, Sara
written in orange, my favorite color. I can't help thinking about my last cake—a mound of mashed potatoes with a candle in the middle. I love mashed potatoes. It was a great cake. Especially since Anna had made it for me all by herself exactly one year ago.

“Wish for something good,” Skeeter says as Mrs. Chandler lights the candles. “But don't tell anyone, or it won't come true.”

“Wait!” My foster dad reaches across the table, then lights and adds one more candle to the cake. “Here's one for good luck.”

I take a deep breath and blow with all my heart. My wish is a very big wish. Everyone starts singing “Happy Birthday.” Presents appear from nowhere.

“Let's open some gifts now, but save others for later,” Mr. Chandler suggests. “There's somewhere we need to go.”

My heart races.

“Yeah, there's this Halloween carnival downtown,” Kevin says, clapping his hands. “And it has a giant Ferris wheel. You go so high up, you can see the whole city. Your stomach will flip-flop. You might even throw up! I did last year.”

I try not to show my disappointment. A carnival? That wasn't my wish.

But then I think about Ben's story about the nine-story cat and how different things can look from different angles. Maybe going on the biggest Ferris wheel would help me see things better.

“Hey, you're not giving the whole day away, are you?” Mr. Chandler picks up a package and hands it to Kevin. “I thought your job was to give Sara her presents!”

“Oh, yeah.” Kevin passes the package to me. It's an iPod with earbuds for listening to music. A song is already in it. I press the button, and on comes my song, “Home.”

Drums and piano have been added on top of my singing. It's magical.

“Heather recorded it for you,” Mr. Chandler says when the song has finished. “She said to wish you the happiest of birthdays.”

“And we did!” Kevin shouts. “Now can we have some cake?”

“You can have cake later, when Sara opens her other presents,” Mr. Chandler says.

Kevin groans, but the Andersons take his cue and head for home.

“My present's coming later,” Lexie whispers as she files past. She squeezes my arm.

“Mine too.” Skeeter laughs.

“Like you really have one,” Lexie quips, bumping against her brother.

“Who says I don't?”

I smile after the door closes and turn to see my new family all smiling back at me. “Wow. Thanks—Mom, Dad, Kev. This is great. The party, the presents, the cake.”

Mrs. Chandler's face melts into a hesitant smile. “Does this mean—”

“I think so,” I answer, feeling suddenly awkward. But for the first time in a long time, the words “Mom” and “Dad” feel okay to say.

“I got a real sister! I got a real sister!” Kevin sings, dancing around the table.

“If it's okay with you, I want my name to be Sara Olson-Chandler.”