TWENTY-ONE
IT WAS NEARING THE END OF JANUARY, THAT MONTH WHEN THE skies were steely and tempers were lost as easily as car keys. All across town, children stood at windows, peering out at rainy backyards; their mothers spent extra hours wiping fingerprints from the glass.
Inside the Cates’ house, the only light came from artificial bulbs, and the pattern of rain falling from the eaves sounded like a quickened heartbeat that wouldn’t calm down.
It made Ellie uneasy.
No, it wasn’t the weather that had her so unnerved. It was the company.
The woman from the Department of Social and Health Services sat stiffly erect on the sofa, as if she were terrified by the thought of an airborne dog hair finding a perch on her gray wool pants.
Julia, who looked composed and comfortable in winter white, sat beside the woman. “May I answer any other questions for you, Ms. Wharton?”
The woman’s smile was as nervous as the rest of her; there and gone. All Ellie really saw was a flash of crooked teeth. “Call me Helen. And I do have some final questions.”
Julia gave her the camera-ready smile. “Fire away.”
Helen put down her pen and looked across the room to where Alice played by herself. She had not made eye contact with Helen once. In fact, upon introduction to the woman, she’d howled and run away. After cowering behind a tiny potted ficus tree for almost an hour, she’d finally emerged from her hiding place, only to begin eating the flower arrangement. “Obviously, this environment is perfectly acceptable. Your home study was approved for temporary foster care of . . . the minor child, and I see no deterioration that would warrant a reversal of our recommendation. As you’ve repeatedly reminded us, the child is flourishing in your care. My concern, actually, is for you, Dr. Cates. May I be frank?”
“I’d love to hear what you have to say,” Julia said.
“Obviously she’s a profoundly damaged child. Perhaps you’re correct and she’s not autistic or otherwise mentally challenged, but she clearly has issues. I doubt she’ll ever be normal. All too often, we find that parents go into adoption of special needs children with big hearts and high hopes, only to realize that they’ve taken on too much. The state has some wonderful facilities for kids like . . . her.”
“There are no kids like her,” Julia said. “She’s been uniquely harmed, I think, and there’s no way to judge her future. As you know, I’m more than qualified to treat her as a patient, and I’m entirely ready to love her as a parent. What could be a better situation for her?”
Helen’s smile came late and seemed as thin as nonfat milk. “She’s a lucky young girl that you found her.” She shot a glance at Alice, who was now standing at the window, “talking” to a squirrel. The social worker stood up and offered Julia her hand. “I see no reason to pretend anyone needs to review this. I’ll certainly recommend placement with you from a home study perspective.”
“Thank you.”
After the social worker left, Julia’s smile finally slipped.
Alice ran to her, jumped into her arms. “Scared,” she whispered.
“I know, honey.” Julia held her tightly, stroked her hair. “You don’t like people who wear glasses. And she had an awful lot of shiny jewelry, didn’t she? Still, you should have smiled at her.”
“Smelly lady.”
Ellie laughed. “I have to agree with the kid on that one.” She headed for the coatrack by the front door and grabbed her jacket. “I’ll call John and tell him you finished the home study. He can get started on the hearing date and start on the Summons for Termination of Parental Rights.”
Still holding Alice, Julia moved toward her. “Once a week for three weeks, in all the area newspapers, huh? That’s how we announce it to the world.”
“They have sixty days from the first publication to file a Notice of Appearance. After that, you’re home free.”
They.
Alice’s biological family.
Though they didn’t speak of it, Julia and Ellie both knew that Alice wasn’t like other kids who’d been lost or abandoned. Someone, somewhere, could be dreaming of her, remembering her, but not looking anymore. A parent could show up anytime, even years from now, and lay a truer claim to the child’s heart than Julia had.
Ellie knew her sister had thought about that, agonized over it, in fact, and decided that she’d take the risk. It was better, Julia thought, to give Alice a home now and worry about the future, than to let the child spend a lifetime in limbo, waiting for a biological parent who might never arrive.
“Well, it’s off to work for me,” Ellie said. “’Bye, Alice.”
Alice hugged Ellie. “’Bye, Lellie.”
Ellie hugged her back. “Cal said it’s a half day today at the girls’ school. He’ll bring Sarah by for a while after lunch.”
“Tell him thanks. Maybe Alice will talk to Sarah this time.” She nuzzled Alice’s neck. “Right, little girl?”