Lakeside Cottage (25 page)

They finished oohing and aahing over the photographs, then got ready for their afternoon walk, a four-mile loop to the end of the road and then back to East Beach. Though Aaron groused about not being allowed to ride his bike, he gamely took the lead, holding the dog’s leash and darting ahead. At the end of the walk, they stopped for a break at the beach. Callie and Kate sat side by side on a picnic bench, sipping from their water bottles. Unwilling to keep still, Aaron went down by the water to dig trenches and tunnels for his trucks in the sand, whistling tunelessly as he worked.

“He’s an awesome kid,” Callie said after a while.

Startled, Kate smiled at her. “I think so, too.”

“He’s always busy. The kids in the foster homes where I lived sat around watching TV all the time.”

“Which is one reason I haven’t had a TV since he was three years old. He started singing the Clorox-bleach
song in the grocery store one day, and that did it for me. I got rid of the set that day, and now I only borrow one every four years to watch the Olympics. Could be a huge mistake, I don’t know. Sometimes I think raising a child is like performing some enormous social experiment with no control group.”

Callie was quiet again, yet Kate could sense her need to talk. “How are things going? In your group and class?”

“My diabetes counselor says I’m doing a lousy job on my journal,” Callie said. “She wants me to work harder on taking notes on all my thoughts and feelings.”

“Have you done that yet?”

Callie shrugged. “I bore myself.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“Hah. I should call the thing ‘Diary of a Whining Girl.’ Boring, I tell you. Glucose check, eat, work, sleep…repeat all over again.” She slid a glance at Kate, then looked down. “I wrote something else.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s just stupid.” She knotted her hands together. “Sometimes I wish I had the kind of life you and Aaron have. A life that will give me a chance.” She dropped her voice even lower. “All that love.”

Kate held her breath, kept in the words she wanted so badly to say. Take this slowly, she cautioned herself. “You’ll need to make some decisions soon. In the fall, you’re going back to school.”

“No way. I’m getting a job.”

“Your job is to be a good student.”

“Like that would help me?”

“Better than working off the books and hiding out,” Kate said. “I know it’s harsh, Callie, but you have to face
facts. By the end of summer, you’ll need to figure out what you intend to do about your living situation.”

“I don’t need to figure anything out. I’ll just take it day by day, like I was before I met you guys.”

“Sleeping in unheated houses,” Kate reminded her. “Starving one day, overeating the next. According to Dr. Randall, that’s a major contributing factor to your condition.”

“I’m sick of hearing about my freaking condition,” Callie snapped. “I’m sick of thinking about the freaking future.”

“Are you scared?”

“Screw you, Kate. Just…screw you.” Callie shot to her feet and stalked away.

Kate refused to let herself feel hurt. Instead, she got up very slowly and approached Callie. She didn’t touch her, just asked the question again. “Are you scared?”

Callie’s shoulders slumped. “All the time.” She turned to face Kate, and her face looked pale and stiff with apprehension. “Listen, I spent a long time with my counselor yesterday,” she said. “A really, really long time.”

Finally the truth was coming out, Kate realized. This was it.

“We talked about my options for next year. She wants me to consider a group home.”

Kate didn’t let herself react, though her heart plummeted. She couldn’t stand the thought of Callie with a group of other kids, some of them even tougher than she was. “How do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Now you sound like the freaking counselor.”

“I’m not trying to counsel you. I just want to know.”

Callie paced back and forth on the bank. “I’ve heard it’s not as bad as it sounds. It’ll keep me from having to
adjust to a new family. That’s a plus, because fitting in with a family is something I’m not real good at.”

Kate tried to keep herself calm. It was time, she thought. She prayed she could bring up her idea without running Callie off. “I could argue with that,” she said.

“Well, thanks, but it’s looking like the group home is going to be it, until I can save up for a place of my own. Everyone I’ve talked to says it’s pretty okay.”

She sounded as though she was trying as hard as possible not to care one way or another.

“Don’t worry about ‘everyone,’” Kate said, not quite sure who that included. “That’s not what matters,” she pointed out. “What matters is making the best decision for you.”

“I don’t know how to do that.” Her voice trembled.

“What is it, Callie?” Kate asked her. “Something’s the matter. And it’s not just the group home.”

Callie studied the ground and mumbled something.

“I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I didn’t hear what you said.”

“Luke dumped me.”

Kate made herself stay very still, showing no reaction as she pondered this development. Only a short time ago, Callie had been crazy about Luke. She thought he was her one shot at a normal life.

“I didn’t realize that,” Kate said, choosing her words with care. “I’m sorry.”

Callie shrugged her shoulders. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Kate said.

“True.”

“Are you all right?”

“I guess. We were just friends. It’s not like he was the love of my life or anything. But it sucks that he was the only friend I had and now I don’t even have him.”

Kate understood. This was a girl who didn’t let herself get attached. Life had taught her that emotional ties were tenuous, and not to be trusted. “Oh, honey—”

“It’s no big deal.” Callie waved off her concern in a gesture so elaborately casual that Kate knew the girl’s heart was broken. “I didn’t really ever expect him to stick by me.” She sat down and drew her knee up to her chest, looped her arms around it. “No one ever does.”

“He’s an idiot,” Kate said. She tried to be light and sarcastic, but she knew what that pain felt like. She’d endured being dumped; she understood how it hurt. “Boys generally are. If you want to talk about—”

“I don’t need—” Callie broke off and her eyes filled, and Kate ached for her, knowing how hard she tried to keep it all in. Moments later, she was sobbing, a symphony of great, choking gasps and shudders, her entire body shuddering with sadness. A few people nearby looked at them but Callie was oblivious, and Kate didn’t care. She put her arms around the girl, stroked her hair and let her cry it out, and in that moment their connection was so strong that Kate could feel all of Callie’s grief, her doubts and her fears.

Callie struggled to talk even as she mopped her face with the edge of her shirt. “I just want to be normal for once in my life. I want to go to the movies with a boy and gab with my best friend on the phone and just…just be normal.”

“You’re better than normal. You’re amazing, I swear,” said Kate, and she meant it.

“You know what I mean.”

Kate did. Though she didn’t speak of it, Callie was thinking about the fact that her life had never been her own. She had survived a bizarre childhood, she’d been shuffled through a foster system that had failed her
and now she was faced with raising herself alone with no support system, a terrifying disease and uncertain prospects.

“We should go back,” Callie said, and got up.

Kate called out for Aaron, who had found a group of kids to play with. He grabbed the dog’s leash and sped up the road ahead of them. Kate matched Callie stride for stride. It was time to say something, Kate knew. Past time. Do I want this? she wondered. Could I do this? Would she say yes?

Her throat felt tight. Callie would be like…a daughter. A sister for Aaron.

“I’ve been thinking,” Kate said. She glanced sideways at Callie, hoping her next words wouldn’t chase the girl off. Enough dancing around this, Kate thought. Just say it. “I applied to be a foster parent. I need to go back to Seattle for an interview with the King County CPS. Once I’m approved, you can live with us.”

Callie stumbled on the asphalt road but kept going.

Kate studied her shocked, disbelieving expression. The girl didn’t say anything.

“That is,” Kate went on, “if you want to. I know I’m not old enough to be your actual mother, but I can offer a stable home and my unflagging support, and that’s a promise.” She tried not to push too hard, but as soon as the words were out, she realized how much she wanted to be there for Callie during the all-important high-school years. The arrangement wouldn’t be easy for any of them, but it was the right thing to do. Kate felt it in her bones.

Callie picked up the pace, and Kate hurried to match her strides. “I know my offer seems sudden to you, but not to me. This has been on my mind for quite a while.”

“I have no idea what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything right away. I hope you’ll think about it seriously.”

“I’m not going to be able to think of anything else.”

“Of course, you’re free to consider other options. I’m far from perfect, as you’ve probably noticed. I don’t have a husband—”

“And you’re doing just fine,” Callie said loyally.

“Thank you. But I’ll be honest with you. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about the fact that Aaron is growing up without a father.”

“Same as the majority of all kids,” Callie pointed out.

“I don’t have a regular job,” Kate said, playing devil’s advocate.

“What are you, trying to talk me out of it?”

“I’m telling it like it is so you can make a good decision. I’m single and jobless.”

“You work every day. You’re making it as a writer. Plus, you said you have real estate in Seattle.”

The rental property. To Callie, any home owned free and clear must seem like a gold mine. Kate was humbled. As a single mother, she’d always felt hard done by, as though life hadn’t given her enough. In Callie’s eyes, she had it all. “You can take time to think about your decision,” said Kate. “Just remember, you’ll be a member of the family for as long as you need us, and I hope that’s forever.”

Callie stared straight ahead at the paved trail. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I
want
to do it.” Kate battled the urge to give her a gentle shake. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t like getting attached, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. What’s wrong with getting attached?”

“It sucks when things don’t work out.”

“Then we’ll make sure it works out.”

“I don’t get you.” Callie’s pace stayed brisk, but there was a softness in her voice. “You’re so, like, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, all cheerful and wholesome and everything.”

“Would you rather live with a Goth?”

“What’s a Goth?” asked Aaron. He had circled around behind them and was bringing up the rear.

“Someone who wears black all the time and rarely speaks,” Kate said. She looked at Callie. “Is that right?”

Callie was fighting laughter. “Yeah, I guess.”

“N
ervous?” Kate’s chirpy voice grated on Callie the next day as they drove over the Hood Canal Bridge, heading to the Kitsap Peninsula and an appointment Callie definitely did not want to keep. Since Aaron was spending the day with Mrs. Newman, the ride was filled with long silences.

God. She could read Callie like a book. “Oh, no,” Callie said. “It’s always a barrel of laughs to go see my mother.” She stared out the window. Vine maples and evergreen forests swished past, and every once in a while she caught a glimpse of the water through the trees. For some reason, the breathtaking scenery made her want to cry, the normal state of affairs for her these days.

She had been drifting around in a dreamlike state, overwhelmed by the decision she had to make. She and Kate talked endlessly about what life would be like as a family in Seattle. Kate described her neighborhood as quiet, with big trees and older homes. What Kate didn’t know was that Callie had never lived in an actual neighborhood. Nor had she ever had a place of her own in a
private house, except with Kate. In Seattle, Callie would have her own room and a shared bath with Aaron. The high school was less than a mile from Kate’s house. It had a thousand students and its own radio station. Kate had promised to enroll Callie in driver’s ed, and when the time came, help her apply to college.

College.
It was the first time anyone had mentioned it to Callie with any sense of possibility at all. Yet to Kate, going to college seemed perfectly doable, a logical step after high school and a goal within reach. Maybe that was why Callie was so scared to go for it. She’d learned from experience that wanting something too badly was the kiss of death. As soon as she made up her mind that she had to have something, it was ripped away from her. Luke was the perfect example. He’d held out the hand of friendship, maybe even hinted that there could be more, and then he blew her off. Dumped her. Kicked her out to the curb like a load of garbage.

Kate and the life she wanted to give Callie were just as tenuous. Yet Callie, even having been knocked in the dirt so many times, desperately wanted to accept the offer. Ever since Kate had proposed her idea, Callie had walked around with a giant lump in her throat, ready to burst into stupid tears at any moment. She couldn’t keep herself from imagining having a permanent place with Kate and Aaron. A clean, orderly house to come home to after school every day, supper around a table, her own bed each night. It was all so freaking Norman Rockwell, the kind of thing kids in foster homes made fun of. Callie knew exactly why they ridiculed close families. It was to protect themselves from shriveling up from wanting it so badly.

Drawing a shell of sullenness around her, she sank deeper into silence. And Kate, ever understanding, didn’t
push her to talk. She didn’t press for a decision, either. At some point she would, though. Callie knew that. Because later today, they had an appointment with CPS to discuss Kate’s proposed arrangement with a caseworker.

First, though, they had a stop to make. Callie tore her gaze away from the passing scenery and glanced down at the official-looking envelope that lay on the seat between them. The outside was stamped Washington State Correction Center for Women and the inside contained their clearance passes to visit Callie’s mother.

Callie shifted in her seat, wishing she could scoot away from the documents lying there.

“Sorry,” Kate said as if reading her mind. “I know it’s rough—”

“You don’t know,” Callie said. “How could you possibly? You have nice parents and this great family. I’ve seen the pictures, Kate. I’ve heard the stories. You had this perfect childhood, so you can’t possibly know what this is like.”

“You know what I think?” she said. “I think the old saying is true. It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”

“Right.” Callie studied her fingernails. Frosted peony.

“You can still say no to visiting your mother. Since it was my idea in the first place, I can talk to her by myself.”

“I’ll do it,” Callie said. In spite of everything she had some kind of sick loyalty to her mother, a need to see her and hear her voice. “You probably think it’s totally weird that I’m willing to be in the same room with her.”

“With your mother?” Kate shook her head. “It’s not weird at all.”

“Even though she was devoted to that creep, Timothy
Stone? And when that fell apart, she dragged me to Washington and ditched me?”

“You didn’t choose her, but you’ve got her.”

Callie didn’t say anything. She had learned to play her cards close to the chest and old habits died hard.

At the state women’s prison in Purdy, Kate acted as if it was no big deal, parking in a Visitor slot, showing their credentials at the gate office. She acted perfectly calm as they descended the granite stairway, going lower with every step. They had to be searched with wands that never touched them but felt like an intrusion anyway. They passed through gate after gate, each one closing before the next opened. She could tell Kate was nervous, going through the security routine of sliding doors, fluorescent hand stamps, sealed rooms.

Callie’s first foster home had been close by the prison, so close that she could see the reflection of its too-bright lights at night, blotting out the stars. She knew her way around this place. On the way to the visitors’ unit, they passed through a garden that always surprised people when they saw it. It was filled with riotously blooming sweet peas and dahlias, and there was even a pond with rose petals floating on the surface. In the crook of an ornamental plum tree was a nest, and birdsong floated on the breeze. It resembled the perfect oasis if you ignored the miles of cyclone fence and coils of razor wire surrounding the compound.

The inmates they passed averted their eyes. Disengaging, a prison counselor had called it. If you made eye contact, it was a challenge. Yet somehow, the downcast gazes had intimidated the heck out of Callie when she’d first come here. Now she wasn’t just immune. She had learned to disengage, too.

She checked to see how Kate was taking it all in. At
first glance, you wouldn’t think she was tough enough to deal with something like this. She looked like Alice in Wonderland, with her shampoo-ad hair and big eyes. But there was more to her than that. She had a core of steel, and that was evident when an inmate sized her up and she refused to flinch.

They waited in a room furnished with molded-plastic chairs and shiny laminate tables. The linoleum floors were scuffed and it was hot as an oven, with no breeze through the open transom windows. Kate sat down and placed her notepad and pencil on the table in front of her. She lined them up perfectly straight, then sent Callie an ironic smile. “Not that I’m nervous or anything.”

Callie smiled back. “Don’t worry about it. Everybody is.”

A few minutes later, her mom was brought in by a guard. Kate stood up fast, the feet of her chair scraping the floor. Callie stayed seated, her arm over the back of the chair. She felt a storm of emotion in her gut—anger and discomfort, and a terrible explosion of hope and yearning—but she kept it all in and acted nonchalant. “Hey,” she said, and finally, reluctantly, got up.

“Hey, yourself.” Mom’s eyes flickered over her. “You finally lost some weight.”

“I collapsed and almost died on my birthday,” Callie said, wondering even as she spoke why she bothered. “I’ve been diagnosed with insulin resistance. That’s a precursor of type 2 diabetes.”

Her mother’s face didn’t change. “Shouldn’t have let yourself get so heavy.”

After that, of course, they didn’t hug, didn’t smile. They were long past the stage of pretending there was any sort of bond between them. Everyone sat down, and her mom kept a poker face, like Callie knew she would.
Callie was more interested in watching Kate’s reaction. People were always startled when they saw Callie’s mom. They were surprised by how petite she was, how beautiful. Renée Zellweger with a number stenciled on the back of her shirt.

Kate was surprised, all right, Callie could tell, even though she’d already seen Mom’s mug shot and sort of knew what to expect. But she covered up her reaction, smiling as she said, “Ms. Evans, I’m Kate Livingston. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Callie’s mom drummed her fingers on the table. “Why?”

“Curiosity, mostly.” Kate sat back down. Sure enough, she was not going to blow smoke up anyone’s ass and pretend she was here out of compassion. “And research for an article I’m writing. I was hoping you’d be willing to talk with me about your life with Callie.”

Mom’s dark eyes narrowed. “What kind of article?”

“For a magazine. It’s scheduled to run in
Vanity Fair
next year.”

“So you’re a reporter?”

“Freelance writer.”

“And if I don’t feel like telling you anything?”

Kate folded her hands, prim as a lady in church. “I’ll use the court records and Callie’s own impressions.”

“Oh, so you’re writing a work of fiction.”

“I beg your pardon?” Kate sounded polite, but the question was a clear challenge.

“This interview is over,” Mom said, getting up, her mouth a curl of disgust. “I’ve got nothing to say to either of you.”

It hit Callie then that this person had never been a mother to her. Kate was the closest thing she’d ever had to a real mother. All her life, she had been waiting and
hoping for her mom to be something Kate had become in just one summer. She knew now that she’d been trying to hang on to nothing, to thin air, to her idea of what a mother should be, and that was so stupid. It was like trying to catch the rain between your fingers. Now, Kate—she was the real thing. But the scary part of that was that she might not last.

Kate was quiet for a moment. Callie was scared she might mention her idea about letting Callie live with her. They’d agreed not to bring it up until Callie made her decision. She hoped Kate would remember that.

Kate offered a tight, controlled smile. Then she carefully picked up the pad of paper and pencil and stood.

The guard stepped forward to escort Callie’s mother back to her unit. But Mom had one more thing to say. “She’ll screw you over, just you watch. The kid’s a born liar and a cheater. She’ll screw you like she screwed me, and then we’ll see who’s so self-righteous.”

“Care to explain that further?” Kate asked.

“You’ll find out for yourself.” The guard walked her to the door. The last thing Callie’s mother said was, “Ask her. Ask her how come she ran away from her last home. Ask why they never tried to find her.”