Christmas Sisters

by Tess Thompson

  “That’s horrible.”

  Maddie’s heart hurt just thinking about it. She knew Maeve would have been devastated for her granddaughter to be all alone, so young, and with no family to turn to. How terrified Josephine must have been when her grandmother died!

  It wasn’t like Maddie hadn’t always known these struggles existed, but it seemed that since she’d decided to intervene on Stevie’s behalf, she’d been confronted with the reality of other young girls on their own who were equally deserving of love and stability and a place to truly call home.

  Claire sighed. “I know you’ve got your hands full with the two already coming, but I wish we could do something to help Maeve’s granddaughter. Marjorie said she’s so bright, and she’d have a wonderful future ahead of her if she could just catch a break.”

  Maddie set down her fork as her eyes widened. “Are you saying you want me to adopt a third?”

  “Well, you do have that room downstairs. You’d originally thought to put Stevie in there to be close to you. What if you did that and gave Josephine the room next to Simon’s study?”

  “I think my plate is going to be rather full with suddenly having two kids who might have God only knows what kind of issues from their circumstances. I don’t know that I could do another.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, and I knew it was a long shot. That’s why I hesitated to mention it. It’s just that with her being fifteen, her chances of getting adopted aren’t that great. People don’t often want the older teens. I swear I’d take her myself if I thought the state would approve me, but my retirement community is no place for a teenager, and I’m old and set in my ways. Oh, well. I guess we can’t save them all.”

  Claire changed the subject and they didn’t touch on it again that night, but Josephine never strayed far from Maddie’s thoughts over the next few days. She remembered often seeing the young girl at the library before Maeve died. Maddie wasn’t sure how old Josephine had been when her parents died but knew she had been quite young. She wondered how long the girl had been in foster care. Had Maeve been gone already last Christmas? Or was this Josephine’s first Christmas with no family?

  If Josephine was in a bad foster situation—bad enough that the school secretary was aware of it—then surely the social workers assigned to her could step in and place her somewhere better.

  But what if there was no place better available?

  Claire was right—Maddie couldn’t save every child trapped in the system, and she kept telling herself she was doing her part by taking in two children already. But no matter what logic she tried to apply, her mind kept returning to Josephine’s plight, and by the end of the week, she knew she had to at least try and improve Josephine’s situation.

  She called Natalie to inquire about the girl, and Natalie called back the next day saying there was little that could be done since Josephine had already been placed with a family.

  “But what if I was to adopt her?” Maddie asked.

  “In addition to Stevie and Alissa? You sure you want to do that?”

  “Just look into it for me. Let me know if it’s possible. See if I can get approved for all three girls.”

  Natalie’s reply a few days later was that yes, Maddie could move forward with adopting Josephine if she chose to, but it would take a miracle to get things rolling in time for Christmas. Josephine likely wouldn’t be able to join them until after the first of the new year.

  Though disappointed, Maddie resigned herself to the fact, but it didn’t stop her from shopping for the girl while she was out and about picking up things for the other two.

  She and Claire had decided they wouldn’t buy too many clothes and personal items for the girls, preferring to take them and let them pick out things according to their own tastes once they’d arrived.

  Knowing they’d each probably want to choose their own bedroom decor, she stuck to basic neutrals when outfitting the three rooms, hoping to create a warm and welcoming environment for them to come into. It would be easy enough to let them personalize their own space once they got settled.

  By the time the last week of school rolled around before the Christmas break, the house was decked out with wreaths, ribbons, and lights inside and out. She’d picked one special gift for Stevie and Alissa to receive when they arrived, and a few other items were wrapped and waiting under the tree.

  The week seemed to be dragging on forever, and Maddie was counting down the hours until she’d be able to finally have the girls under her roof where they could start their new lives together.

  It was early morning Thursday when she got a call that Josephine had been injured in the home where she was being fostered. Though the injury was minor and would allow a full recovery, the circumstances surrounding it had triggered an investigation that found the foster parents to be unfit. All the fostered children were to be removed from the home, and Josephine needed a placement right away.

  Maddie gladly accepted, and she rushed around after school to get last-minute items for Josephine’s bedroom and gifts to put under the tree in preparation for her arrival the next day.

  As she sat at the kitchen table that night sipping a cup of bedtime tea, Maddie’s mind spun with the reality that she would soon have three girls in her care, all of whom would need particular attention and loads of love to heal what had transpired in their pasts.

  She stood and walked through her house, room by room, allowing memories of Simon and Corinne to wash over her. She’d give anything to have them back, to turn back time and prevent the horrific accident that had taken them from her.

  If only she hadn’t locked her keys in the car after staying late at school that night. If only the custodian or someone on the security force had been there to help her. She wouldn’t have needed to call Simon to come and get her. He and Corrine wouldn’t have been on the road. They’d still be here with her, excited for Christmas morning.

  Maddie stopped in front of the tree, the myriad of colored lights blurring through her tears.

  She knew that it did no good to go over the what ifs again. She’d been through them countless times since that night.

  What had been done could not be undone. What had been lost could not be given back.

  Her only option was to move forward. To live a life that was full of love. To try and be worthy of Simon and Corinne’s memories in all she said and did.

  The shrill ringing of the phone startled her, and she sloshed tea on her hand.

  She was surprised to hear Natalie’s voice on the other end. It was well past office hours, though she’d learned that social workers rarely stick to a set schedule.

  “I’m so sorry to call so late, Maddie, but time is of the essence, and you were the first person I thought of.”

  “What’s wrong?” Maddie asked, wary of what might have happened to cause Natalie such distress. “Is it the girls? Has something happened to one of the girls?”

  “No. They’re fine. Josephine will be coming to you tomorrow, and Alissa and Stevie will arrive on Saturday. I just got a call from a foster family to inform me that they are going out of town for the holidays and will not be taking their foster child.”

  “How can they do that? Are they allowed to do that?”

  “They’re allowed to take a trip without her, but they’re supposed to give me enough notice to find a suitable temporary placement for the poor girl. Now, I’ve got to go get her a couple of days before Christmas and take her to a new place with people she’s never met for her to spend the holiday. She’s only eight years old, and—”

  “Say no more,” Maddie said, her heart offering before her mind even had time to consider. “We’ve got plenty of room. Bring her here.”

  “Are you sure? I know you’ve got three coming, but I thought since they’re all starting out together in a new place, it may be less awkward for this little one, Hailey. It would be a temporary placement, but if you could—”

  “Natalie, you know as well as I do that once
she gets here, she won’t need to leave. Don’t worry about that. She has a long-term placement right here. Now, I’ve already taken the day off tomorrow to welcome Josephine and do a few last-minute preparations for her and the other girls. If you can give me Hailey’s sizes and her interests, I’ll run out tomorrow and get a few things to put under the tree for her. She’ll need to share a room with Alissa since they’re closest in age, so hopefully that will work out well.”

  After writing down the details Natalie could give her on Hailey, Maddie hung up the phone and sat back down at the table to sip her tea.

  Four girls. Four opportunities to show love.

  She was going from a bereaved widow who’d lost her only child to mothering four daughters.

  She smiled at the thought of what Simon might say, and she pictured Corinne’s sweet grin.

  Perhaps there were a couple of traditions she’d carry over into her new life—like Simon’s insistence on having blueberry waffles on Christmas morning and Corinne’s letters to Santa.

  The memories filled her with joy, and the idea of what the future would bring filled her with hope. She went to bed with a heart at peace, ready to welcome her new family but steadfast in the knowledge that nothing could replace or diminish the family she’d had.

  Jo O’Malley

  Author Tammy L. Grace

  Mrs. Ashburn plucked the glasses from the beaded chain around her neck, where they rested against her drab blouse, and perched them on the end of her nose. Her eyes scanned the note in her hand and then flicked over the top of her glasses. “Miss O’Malley,” she hollered. “You’re to take your things and report to the office.”

  Her not so subtle announcement elicited snickers and giggles from the class. Jo didn’t bother saying goodbye to any of her classmates before trudging down the hallway to her locker and stuffing the library books she had picked up at lunch into her worn backpack. She grabbed the one strap still attached to the top, and let the frayed one drag along the tile floor.

  Laughter and merriment spilled from the classrooms into the hallway as classes held their holiday celebrations. Despite the buzz of excitement around Jo, worry and angst filled her thoughts.

  The bag was heavy and she took her time getting to the office at Granite Ridge High. Marjorie, the secretary who had known her grandmother smiled at Jo, but it was a pity smile. Jo’s heart pounded in her chest. What could she have done to warrant a summons to the office? It couldn’t be an overdue meal bill since as humiliating as it was, she was on free lunch now.

  Marjorie’s eyes darted to the far corner of the office. Mrs. Wacker, her social worker stood there. Her weary eyes gave Jo the same uninspired look she always displayed. “Josephine,” she said.

  Jo rolled her eyes. Why can she never remember to call me Jo? As Jo grumbled, she noticed her tattered cloth bag from Mountain Drugs & Books in Mrs. Wacker’s fleshy hand. She had that huggable body shape that made you think of a sweet grandma who loved to bake and cuddle, but she’d never offered Jo so much as an ounce of kindness.

  “I had Marjorie send someone to collect your gym clothes.” The social worker, bundled in a heavy coat, dipped her head in Marjorie’s direction and ushered Jo into the main hallway toward the entrance. “I’ve got some unexpected news.”

  Dread crept up Jo’s neck. She shoved the door open and a blast of cold air sucked away what little breath she had left.

  Mrs. Wacker toddled across the sidewalk, breathing heavily. “I know you haven’t been happy at the Monroe’s ranch.”

  That was the understatement of the year. Mr. and Mrs. Monroe were leeches who made it clear they took in foster kids for the money and for what Jo thought of as slave labor at their ranch. Jo had been telling Wacker the Slacker and anyone else who would listen about their fraudulent activities for the last year.

  Mrs. Wacker pointed at her dingy gray sedan with government plates. She unlocked it and reached into the backseat. “I picked up your things from the ranch,” she said, holding the trash bag up like a trophy.

  Jo’s head swiveled around the parking lot, looking to see if anyone was watching her and the depressing bag that represented her meager belongings. “Could you please put it in the car before anyone sees?” Jo shook her head with disgust and flung her backpack next to the trash bag, before getting into the passenger seat.

  Mrs. Wacker situated her bulk behind the wheel and let out a long sigh. “For reasons I cannot discuss, Mr. and Mrs. Monroe are no longer certified foster parents.”

  Jo fingered the bandage on her hand and suppressed a smile. The injury from the hay hook had required treatment at urgent care, which had meant a report of the incident to Mrs. Wacker. Jo also made sure her guidance counselor at the high school saw it and knew what had happened. Jo knew full well what could not be discussed. She had lived it for the last year.

  “I’m driving you to your new home where you’ll meet your new foster mother, Mrs. Kirby.”

  The momentary elation was fleeting. Jo swallowed a lump in her throat. “What about Nathan and Molly? Where are they going?” Jo’s throat burned and her mouth went dry, as if she hasn’t tasted water in days. “I can’t leave them there. I won’t.”

  Mrs. Wacker’s frosted pink lips curved between her pudgy cheeks. “Don’t get upset, Josephine.” She reached to pat Jo’s arm.

  “It’s Jo,” she said, through gritted teeth. “I’ve told you that for a year and you never remember.”

  Mrs. Wacker tsked. “I can’t possibly remember everyone’s nickname now, can I?” She steered the car from the school and added, “You really need to control your temper, my dear. Nathan and Molly’s aunt agreed to take them. They’re on their way to Boise to get a flight to Kentucky. Placing kids with someone in the family is really the ideal situation.” Mrs. Wacker beamed with delight, as if she had been the one to orchestrate such a success.

  “Unless, of course, you don’t have any family,” Jo mumbled. She turned and looked out the window, letting her breath fog it as she took in the festive decorations along Main Street and the smiling townsfolk milling about the sidewalks, toting holiday shopping bags.

  “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to them,” she whispered. But that was nothing new. They were just the latest in a string of people in her life who had disappeared without a word.

  The brakes on Mrs. Wacker’s sedan squealed as she parked in front of a huge brick Victorian home. Colorful lights graced the intricate roofline and wrapped around the columns on the porch. The resemblance to one of those fancy gingerbread houses Jo had seen on television wasn’t lost on her. The door held a huge fresh wreath and the glow of warm lights filled every window, even the ones in the turret that rose above the highest roof peak.

  Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she lugged the trash bag and her ratty backpack up the steps. Mrs. Wacker ambled after her, clutching the bag of dirty gym clothes to her chest. When she made it to the porch, she used her gloved finger to poke the doorbell. A soft series of chimes drifted from inside the house.

  The door opened and a woman with gentle brown eyes and a warm smile greeted them, along with the mouth-watering aroma of freshly baked sugar cookies, bringing Grandma Maeve immediately to mind. But that’s where the similarity ended. The woman was tall, and wore stylish heeled boots, jeans, and a teal green poncho with a shimmery fringe over a matching turtleneck. Jo studied her face, thinking she recognized her, barely listening as Mrs. Wacker droned on making introductions.

  Mrs. Kirby extended her hand, revealing a sparkly silver and teal beaded bracelet, and offered to take Jo’s backpack. “Let me help you with your things, Jo?”

  When Jo heard her voice, she realized why Mrs. Kirby seemed familiar. She was a school counselor at Jo’s old school. Jo remembered her as friendly and nice, although she never had much interaction with her. She smiled back at Mrs. Kirby and said, “Yes, and thank you.”

  Mrs. Wacker stuffed the cloth bag in Jo’s arms, promised she’d be in touch after the first of t
he year, and scurried down the steps. Jo ignored her, focusing instead on the breathtaking entryway and huge staircase, draped with greenery.

  Mrs. Kirby led Jo up the staircase. “I don’t know if Mrs. Wacker told you, but I’ve decided to open my home to four children, all girls. You’re the oldest, so I wanted you to have this room up here adjacent to the turret, so you’ll have some privacy.”

  She waved her hand around the space outfitted with built in bookshelves filled with leather bound books, a huge desk, and oversized chairs. “This was Mr. Kirby’s office, so it’s a bit masculine, but I love the dark colors and it gets plenty of light from all the windows.” Jo detected sadness in her voice when she mentioned her husband and realized despite her friendly smile, there was a hint of sorrow in Mrs. Kirby’s eyes.

  Jo looked around the space again. She didn’t care what color the furnishings were and imagined herself lounging in the comfortable chair, reading a book by the fire. She followed Mrs. Kirby to the bedroom and gazed at the room decorated in shades of pale and dark green. A thick area rug covered part of the hardwood floor and she took care not to walk on it. The room resembled those she imagined when reading her beloved novels of Jane Austen and Emily Bronte.

  She dropped the trash bag on the floor. “My clean clothes have been jumbled with my dirty ones. Do you have a washing machine I could use?”

  “Of course, I’ll show you the laundry room and how to work the machines. In the meantime, I got you an early Christmas gift.” She removed a package with shimmering ribbons from the dresser and handed it to Jo.

  Tears stung Jo’s eyes as she read the glittery card attached to the box. Merry Christmas, Jo. I hope this is the first of many we will spend together. With love, Mrs. Kirby.

  Maybe this was more than a temporary placement. Jo’s heart raced at the thought of being able to live in a home like this one with someone who seemed to truly care about her. Someone with a kind heart and room for four foster girls.