Bittersweet Hope (3 page)

Chapter Three

Three Days Later

“Audrey? We’re here.”

I looked out the car window, feeling so small in the empty backseat. My knuckles were white, but I couldn’t feel my hands. Even the pretty scenery we’d passed over the past half hour or so, hell I couldn’t even remember how long we’d been in the car, had done nothing to brighten my mood. How could it? There wasn’t a single thing that could fill the void, the big black hole gaping inside of me. I’d always been with my sisters. We’d always been a trio. I’d taken care of them, helped them with things, loved them so much that I’d hoped it would make up for our mother’s failures. And poof. They were just…gone.

Now I had to go in and meet this family I would be staying with.
These people who didn’t know me, or Sierra and Sadie, and wouldn’t understand. Oh joy.

Mrs. Anderson said my name again. Her face wrinkled as she looked into mine. She knew I hadn’t done well in the group home. She was probably wo
rried I would cause problems at my new home. I wouldn’t, though. I couldn’t just keep to myself and not be a bother. I’d had to do that enough times that it was automatic.

“Audrey.” Mrs. Anderson repeated herself a third time.

“What?” I asked, finally acknowledging I’d heard her.

“I said we’re here. This is the Whitley’s house. This is wher
e you’ll be living.” She smiled. Her bright white teeth made my head hurt.

Where I would be living. For four measly months until I would be kicked out onto the streets all alone. Woo flipping hoo.

I shrugged. “Okay.” It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered without Sadie and Sierra.

I reached for the cold silver handle and pushed the van door open, the crisp March air hitting me in the face. The smell of flowers in bloom tickled my nose. Looking around, I noticed we had to be in the country, outside the city limits of our little town of Rocky Creek. There were no other houses around us, only bright green grass as far as the eye could see. The house in front of me had yellow siding and red shutters,
a picture perfect structure that looked straight out of a magazine. Rocking chairs sat on the wide front porch and a swing hung from two chunky metal chairs. It was nicer than the modest brick home we’d dropped Sadie off at, but not nearly as stately as the plantation style house Sierra was in.

I frowned. If I was in the country, would I be in the same school zone as Sierra and Sadie? Or Zach, for that ma
tter? It figured. Finally a guy asks me out and now he would think I disappeared without a trace. He was probably wondering where I’d been the last few days already.

This house was far enough out that I could pretty much bet on the fact that I’d be going to the county school, but I wasn’t sure about my sisters. I wanted to kick myself for not paying attention to how far we
had driven after we dropped them off.

Mrs. Anderson went up the porch steps, so I quit pouting and followed her. The door swung open almost insta
ntly, and a woman stepped out, drying her hands on a bright pink apron tied around her tiny waist.

“You’re here!” She smiled, showcasing
perfectly straight teeth. Her frosted blonde hair was pulled back into a loose bun, with tendrils floating around her face. She was one of the prettiest people I’d ever seen.

“Anna Whitley, this is Audrey Emerson.” Mrs. Anderson said, greeting the woman. She motioned for me to walk forward, so I did. At least part of me was still acting normal.

“Hello, Audrey.” Mrs. Whitley took my hand in hers. Her grip was warm and firm. As she shook my hand, I noticed the way her eyes crinkled at the sides when she smiled.

“Hi.” It was the only word I could think of. I had no idea how someone
reacted to meeting their foster…mother?

Mrs. Whitley looked like she expected more from me, but the surprise on her face was swept away within seconds. “Would you like to come in and see your new room? Caleb isn’t home
right now, but he’ll be back from practice later.”

“Is that your husband?” I asked.

Mrs. Whitley looked at Mrs. Anderson in surprise, and my social worker closed her eyes for a brief moment.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Whitley. I completely forgot to tell her.”

Tell me what? Great. Leave it to me to do something wrong already.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Mrs. Whitley wiped her hands on her apron again, even though there wasn’t anything on them to wipe off. Her smile faltered a tiny bit.

Mrs. Anderson turned to me. “Caleb is Mrs. Whitley’s son, Audrey. He’s the same age as you, seventeen. Her husband, Kyle, passed away last year.” She cleared her throat. “He had cancer.”

“Oh.” I coughed and picked at invisible lint on my shirt. “I’m so sorry.” I stuffed my hands into my pockets and rocked back on my heel. I could feel warmth creeping up my neck and hoped my entire face wouldn’t turn red.

The brightness returned to Mrs. Whitley’s face when she looked at me. She shook her head, and I wasn’t really surprised when not one single hair on her head moved out of place. “Don’t you worry about it, honey. We’ve been sad around here for far too long. That’s why we wanted you. You’re going to be our new bright spot.”

I almost stumbled backwards. I was going to be their new bright spot? Shit.

“Now, come on in and I’ll show you the house.” Mrs. Whitley said. “Mrs. Anderson, would you care for a cup of coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

Mrs. Anderson looked at me for a moment, then turned her attention to the other woman.

“No, thank you. I have a lot of paperwork to do back at the office. You go ahead and get Audrey settled in. You’ve got all the information I left you?”

Mrs. Whitley said that she did.

“Okay then. Please call if you need anything.” Mrs. Anderson trained her blue eyes on me for a final time. “You too, Audrey. My number is in the packet I gave Mrs. Whitley. Don’t hesitate to use it if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” I said. I watched her go down the porch steps and get into her van. She started the engine and drove off down the gravel driveway, leaving me standing there with a woman I had met five minutes earlier. A woman who had lost her husband and expected me to be her “new bright spot”. Scared was an understatement. Complete and utter panic was more like it.

“Well, Audrey. Ready?” Mrs. Whitley put her hand on the brass doorknob and pushed it open. I nodded, choosing not to test my voice right then. When we stepped inside the house, the immediate homey feeling almost took my breath away. Pleasant smells wafted from a room in front of me, probably the kitchen. Sun cascaded through the open windows, the sheer curtains covering them flowing effortlessly in the early spring breeze.

I tried to find something to be annoyed by, but I couldn’t deny that it was a beautiful home. The floors were a honey colored wood, and the living room held plush, tan furniture. I did avoid looking at the photo filled walls. The last thing I wanted to see was a smiling, happy family.

“Your room is this way.”

Mrs. Whitley’s voice broke through my thoughts. My room. I had never had my own room.
I’d never even had a room to share. I’d had a living room with a pile of blankets, or a couch if I was lucky.

I followed her through the living room, stepping down into a country looking kitchen with apple decorations everywhere, and then up a staircase. The space above was lit with a warm glow, not bright like the downstairs of the house.

Mrs. Whitley pointed at doors as we passed by them. “This is my bedroom, the study, Caleb’s room. You two will be sharing this bathroom, and this is your room.” She led me into a large room with walls a soft sage color, the shade of green you see at Easter. Pushed between two windows on the far side was a white four poster bed. A pretty pearl colored quilt rested on top of it, decorated with interloping patterns in all different shades—yellow, pink, purple, blue, and green. A nightstand stood beside the bed, and at the other end of the room was a dresser and desk. I pursed my lips to keep from gasping. I had never been in such a gorgeous space in all my life.

Then I noticed the closet, straight across from where we were standing—a walk-in. It was empty. I blanched at the sight of all the hangers facing in the same direction, waiting on dresses and tops and pants I didn’t own.
Things that normal kids have, but not me. I bit the inside of my mouth. Did this lady know I had nothing to my name? I tried to avoid her eyes, but everywhere I looked I saw something else reminding me of what I was. Plain trash, just like my mother.

“Audrey? What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?” Mrs. Whitley studied me, her eyebrows drawing together.

Part of me wanted to tell her I didn’t like it, to just say it wasn’t my thing, even though I loved the room. That would be easier than the truth.

But Mrs. Anderson and the stern look she had given me flashed through my mind. I thought about Sierra and Sadie, and what their foster families might think if I gave the Whitley’s trouble. It was probably best to play it safe. Safe meant honest. Safe sucked.

“No, Mrs. Whitley, the room is beautiful. I just . . . I don’t have any clothes to hang in there.” I motioned toward the closet. “I don’t,” my voice cracked, but I absolutely refused to cry, “I don’t have anything.” I finished, standing up as tall as I could.

My admission hung in the air, the words a harsh reminder of the life I’d had just a few days earlier. And my Mama. I cleared my throat, forcing her out of my head.

I focused instead on the beige carpet as heat crawled across my face. The seconds drug by as the silence lay heavy on my shoulders.

I jumped when Mrs. Whitley
touched my arm, just lightly enough to let me know she was there. Looking up, I found her glacier colored eyes staring into my own.

“First off, please call me Anna. Second, I know you haven’t had it easy, Audrey. You wouldn’t be here if you had. I didn’t realize quite how hard . . . .”

She trailed off as she looked at me, and it seemed as if she were taking in my appearance for the first time. I felt like a hobo in the plain clothes the state had given me. It was just a black sweat suit, so actually, I felt like a prisoner. I might as well have had handcuffs on. I couldn’t help but think of my mother again. Smoothing my hands down the legs of my pants, more to dry my sweaty palms than anything else, I forced myself to listen to what Mrs. Whitley was saying.

“I’m here to make sure you have a nice place to live for a while,” she continued, “clothes, food. That’s why you’re with me. I promised Mrs. Anderson and the state of Alabama I would take care of you, and it’s a promise I fully intend to keep.” Her eyes crinkled again when she
smiled. It made her whole face light up.

“But . . .” Clothes cost a lot of money. How much was the state giving her to keep me?

“No buts.” She stood back and looked me up and down. “Tell you what. I was in the middle of getting ready for supper, but I think we’re going to take a little shopping trip instead. You’re smaller than me, but I think I have some older things that will do for today. What do you say? Girls’ day, just you and me? Caleb won’t be home for hours. You can go and get showered while I finish putting the casserole together, then I’ll just stick it in the fridge and it can bake in the oven tonight instead of the crock pot all day, and I’ll write Caleb a note. Towels are under the cabinet. I even got you a new toothbrush yesterday and put in there, and some other toiletries, too. If you need help finding anything, you just yell, okay? The clothes will be laid out on the bed by the time you get finished.”

I stood, shell shocked. Huh? This lady was going to take me on a shopping spree? I shook my head for what must have been the tenth time since I’d been dropped off at the Whitley’s. Surely I had to be dreaming.

“Okay.” I said, dragging the word out to make it sound like three syllables instead of just one.

She turned to leave.

“Mrs. Whitley—I mean, Anna?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think when we get back I can call my sisters? Check on them?”

She cocked her head to the side before she nodded. “Of course you can. The phone numbers are in the packet Mrs. Anderson left for you. I’ll just speak to their foster parents first and see what their rules are.”

I exhaled deeply. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” She went out the door and toward the stairs. “Like I said,” she called from the staircase, “if you need anything, just holler.”

I needed Sierra and Sadie. They would love this room, this woman. She was like . . . a real mother. But Sierra and Sadie weren’t here. I had to at least try to make the best of it, so I didn’t have to work so hard at faking it when I talked to them later. I straightened my shoulders.
Okay, Audrey. This is the hand you’ve been dealt, so deal with it. Buck up and get showered.

I made my way to the bathroom and closed the door behind me, twisting the tiny lock on the knob. It wasn’t a huge room, but it was nice. It was more long than square, with a single sink and toilet on the side, and the shower taking up most of the back wall.

I took inventory of the things on the dark green granite sink. Two separate toothbrush cups, one holding a blue toothbrush looking like it had seen better days, and the other holding a pink one still in the package. There was a bottle of shaving cream with the top sitting on the counter beside it, and a razor plugged into an outlet. That was it. He certainly didn’t seem like a fussy type of guy, this Caleb kid. Good. Better chances of him not giving me trouble if he wasn’t a pretty boy. I loathed pretty boys. Well, except Zach, but he didn’t embrace his pretty. He was like, the anti-pretty boy.