by Nan Rossiter
“I do not want to get rid of you!” She looked over. “And I want you to promise me you will not run away again.”
“Oh, no,” Harper said, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m not promisin’ nothing. If I’m not happy, I’m not stayin’.”
Cora pulled over to the side of the road again. “Look at me, child,” she commanded, and Harper looked at her with eyes full of defiance. “This is going to be your best shot at having a home. A place where people will truly love you and take care of you. If you run away, you might ruin that chance. They’ve already had enough heartache in their lives.”
Harper looked at her suspiciously. “Why?”
“Just because. The reason is something they will share if they want to.”
“I think you should tell me so I know what I’m getting into.”
“Well, I’m not telling you, but if you can’t be trusted to not run away, you are only goin’ to make life miserable for yourself . . . and for everyone else, including me!”
“I can take care of myself—I already proved it.”
“Yeah, you proved it by breaking into someone’s apartment and living on soda and Halloween candy for close to forty-eight hours.”
“I still did it.”
“Harper, for heaven’s sake, could you just promise me so I don’t hafta worry.”
Harper clenched her jaw and looked straight into Cora’s eyes. “Fine.”
“‘Fine’ what?”
“Fine, I promise.”
“Thank you.”
“But you have to promise you’ll come get me if I’m not happy.”
“If you are truly unhappy, I will come get you. But you have to give it an honest chance. I am not running to the rescue the first time things don’t go your way.”
“Okay.” She paused. “And if they’re so nice, you gonna let Rudy sleep over?”
“Yes, I would do that.”
“And I can sleep over at your place, too?”
“If you keep your promise.”
Harper nodded, seeming satisfied with the arrangement. She looked out the window and saw the golden arches looming ahead. “Do you think we can stop at McDonald’s so you can get a big-ass coffee and I can have my last meal?”
“I’m sure it won’t be your last meal.”
“It might be.”
“You promise not to throw it out the window?”
“Yes,” Harper said, rolling her eyes.
“Okay, then,” Cora said, turning into McDonald’s.
“If we eat inside I can’t throw it out the window.”
“Is that what you want?”
Harper nodded, and Cora sighed as she pulled into a parking spot. “You’re gonna make me get wet again.”
“You won’t melt,” Harper said with a grin.
“Ha! I might,” Cora said, climbing out and reaching out for Harper’s hand, but Harper was already jumping over puddles and halfway to the entrance. “Did you look both ways?” she called.
“Yes!” Harper called back, pulling open the door and waiting for her.
49
BEN LOOKED OUT AT THE WIND-DRIVEN RAIN. AS PROMISED, THE TROPICAL storm had become a hurricane, but because it was following in the wake of an autumn northeaster, the track had become much more challenging to predict. “It just figures we’d get a hurricane this late in the season,” Ben mused. “It’s really messing up my schedule.”
“You’ll be fine,” Macey said, pulling open the junk drawer.
Ben sighed and watched the raindrops trickling down the window. “Hopefully, we’ll dodge a bullet.”
“Hopefully we will, but I’d rather be prepared,” Macey said, rummaging through the drawer, looking for candles.
“Maybe it’ll stay out to sea . . . or maybe it’ll hit New England? Those hardy Northerners are due for a good thumpin’.”
“Still harboring a grudge?” she asked, eyeing him as she set the candles she’d found on the counter.
“Me? Noo . . . I’m married to one, remember?” he teased, pulling her into his arms.
“I remember,” she said, kissing him. She looked over his shoulder at the willow trees swaying back and forth. “I can’t believe Cora is coming out in this weather. I told her we’d meet them, but she said it’s procedure to come to the home where they’re placing a child.”
Ben nodded and searched her eyes. “You’re still sure about this?”
Macey looked up. “I am,” she said with conviction. “Are you?”
“I signed the papers, didn’t I?”
Macey eyed him suspiciously. “You’re getting cold feet, aren’t you?”
“No,” he said, unable to meet her gaze. “Okay, maybe a little. I just hope we’re not making a mistake. I mean this is one hell of a commitment. It’s not like taking in a three-legged dog.”
“I know, Ben. You’ve already said that at least ten times.”
“Well, it’s true. What if she doesn’t adjust? What if she doesn’t like us?”
“There are a lot of what-ifs in life, and I know this is hard for you, but sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith.”
“I’m not a very good leaper.”
“That’s the truth,” she said, laughing. “You have to be pushed, prodded, and pulled.”
Ben smiled, knowing it was true.
“Honestly, though, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“Um . . . we could be murdered in our sleep.”
“Ben! That’s not going to happen. She’s a little girl.”
“I know. I was just kidding. . . .”
“Well, don’t,” Macey scolded as she pulled away. “Did you bring in firewood before it started to rain?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Macey glanced at her watch. “Cora said they’d be here after lunch.”
“Speaking of which . . . what is for lunch?”
“I’m not very hungry, but I’ll make something for you.”
“Why aren’t you hungry? You’re not nervous, are you?” he teased.
“Nooo . . .”
“You are,” Ben said, laughing. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
“I just hope she likes it here. I hope she likes her room. I wish we’d had time to do more than just move out the crib and move in a bed and desk.”
“I think it’s better this way. Now, she can decorate it the way she wants.”
“I guess.”
“Did you tell your parents?”
“Yes, they’re very excited. They want to come over and meet her as soon as she’s settled. Did you tell yours?”
“I did. They said they want us to bring her down, too, so they can take her to Disney, but I told them we would have to see how it goes—it’s going to be a big adjustment for everyone.”
“Listen to us,” Macey said, shaking her head. “We don’t even know if it’s going to work and we’re already making plans.”
“I hope it does,” Ben said, pulling her into his arms again.
“Me, too,” Macey whispered. Just then, Keeper, who’d been lying on his bed, pulled himself up and hopped over to nuzzle between them.
“Hey, you,” Macey said, laughing. “You don’t want to be left out, do you?” She knelt down, and he pressed his copper head against her chest.
“You’re so silly,” she whispered, hugging him. A moment later, he pulled away, cocked his head, and barked excitedly as he hurried down the hall, wiggling his whole hind end.
Macey looked at Ben and raised her eyebrows. “Ready?”
He mustered a smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
50
HARPER FELT HER HEART POUND AND REACHED FOR CORA’S HAND. “THIS house is huge,” she said as they hurried up the porch steps, trying to escape the rain. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Cora. I don’t feel so good.”
“What do you mean you don’t feel so good?” Cora asked, looking down and squeezing her hand. “Does your chest hurt?”
“No, my stomach—it’s all queasy i
nside.”
“You’re just nervous. You’ll be okay.”
“I think I might get sick. Are you sure I can’t just live with you? Please? I promise I’ll be good. I won’t cause any more trouble at school . . . and I won’t run away ever, ever. I promise! Cross my heart!” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t want to live here.”
Cora knelt down and looked in Harper’s eyes. “Baby, it’s going to be okay. I promise. I know change is scary. But I really think you’re going to like these people.”
Harper shook her head as her tears spilled down her cheeks. “No, I don’t want to, Cora. Please don’t make me. Please take me home. I want to live with you and Rudy and Frank and Joe. I promise I’ll be good.”
“Oh, child, you are already good. It’s got nothing to do with that. Now, you have to give this a chance. You have to be brave.”
“I don’t want to be brave. I want to live with you,” Harper cried, flinging her arms around Cora’s neck. “Please don’t make me!” Just as she said this, there was a loud bark, followed by scampering paws, and she pulled back, eyes brightening. “They have a dog?”
“They do,” Cora replied, hoping this was a good thing, and then remembering there was another surprise in store for Harper. When she had stopped by for a visit to finalize everything—as was standard procedure when they established a new foster home—she’d been astonished to find her former neighbor’s three-legged dog at the door. “You know,” she’d told Macey at the time, “my neighbor also had a cat, and the two were inseparable.” Macey had remembered the cat she’d seen at the shelter, and later that day, she’d called Cora to tell her she’d gone back to get Big Mac and Cora had laughed. “What about Ben?”
“Oh, he’ll get over it,” Macey had said, laughing, too. “After all, what’s one more?”
“You didn’t tell me they had a dog,” Harper said, frowning.
“With everything goin’ on, child, I forgot.”
Harper bit her lip and wiped her eyes, and in the next moment, the door opened and the big golden retriever bounded out. “Whoa!” she exclaimed in surprise as he almost knocked her over.
“Keeper, take it easy!” Macey said. “I’m sorry, Harper. He’s usually much calmer than this.”
Harper looked up and realized Macey was the lady from church and Dr. Hack’s office. Now she eyed her suspiciously, wondering what real motive was at play in her wanting to suddenly be a foster parent.
Macey pulled Ben forward into the doorway. “Harper, I know we’ve met before, but I don’t think you’ve ever met my husband, Ben.”
Ben smiled warmly and extended his hand. “Hi, Harper. It’s nice to meet you.”
Harper nodded, eyeing him warily, but kept her hands stuffed in her pockets. There was no way she was going to be friends the first time she met someone. She turned her attention back to Keeper and the big dog acknowledged her with kisses. She put her hands on his head, looked down at his three legs, and then frowned at Cora. “Is this . . . ?” But a gust of wind sent the rain sideways onto the porch and she never got to finish her question.
Ben held the door open. “C’mon in, before we all get soaked!”
They traipsed past the formal living room, shaking off the rain, and headed to the cozy kitchen. “Cora, would you like a cup of ginger tea?” Macey asked.
“That sounds wonderful,” Cora replied.
“I’d love a cup, too,” Harper said, her hand still on Keeper’s head as she sat at the table.
“Do you like ginger tea, Harper?” Macey asked in surprise.
“Mm-hmm. It’s real good with lemon in it—Mary used to make it for me when I didn’t feel good.”
“Who is Mary?” Macey asked, putting the kettle on the stove.
“Tom and Mary used to foster kids, but Mary caught cancer and died, and Tom couldn’t take kids anymore—he was too sad. They had a dog, too. His name was Sundance.”
“That’s a great name for a dog.”
Harper nodded as Keeper rested his head on her lap. “How’d you get Keeper?”
“My sister and I saw him at a pet-adoption event, and they said he’d been in the shelter for two years. No one wanted him because he has three legs.”
Harper nodded. “That’s like me. No one wants me because I have a weak heart—they’re worried somethin’s gonna happen . . . and even before that, no one wanted me because I got in trouble . . . a lot. Anybody who takes me in, is taking a big risk, right, Cora?” She looked to Cora for confirmation. “I could have a heart attack or somethin’ . . . and then there’d probably be an investigation or a lawsuit . . . or, at the very least, an expensive funeral.”
Cora—who’d sat down in the chair across from her—listened in amazement as Harper spouted off. “Oh my, baby, you are certainly painting a solemn picture. None of that is going to happen.”
“You never know, Cora. You always say, ‘Anything can happen’ and ‘With God all things are possible.’”
“I do say that,” Cora agreed, suddenly realizing what Harper was doing—she was brazenly and unabashedly trying to sabotage this wonderful opportunity. “But I certainly don’t think that is how things will play out in this instance.”
Harper sighed heavily as if it were a foregone conclusion and they were foolish to ignore the peril of taking her in.
Macey and Ben exchanged worried glances, wondering what they were getting into, and Cora quickly tried to allay their fears. “Harper has such a wonderful, vivid imagination—you never know what will pop out of her mouth!”
Harper raised her eyebrows at this counterclaim and Macey nodded.
“I never use this teapot,” Macey mused, changing the subject as she poured hot water into a beautiful china teapot with blue hydrangeas painted on the side. “It belonged to my grandmother.”
“How come?” Harper asked.
“I never make more than one cup because I never have anyone over, so I usually just steep a tea bag in a cup with a saucer on top.”
“You could have people over,” Ben said softly, watching her.
“I guess I could. I just never feel like it.”
“How come?” Harper asked. “You have a great big house.”
Macey blinked, trying to decide if this was a compliment. “Thank you,” she said finally, giving Harper the benefit of the doubt. “That’s a good question. I guess it’s because all my friends have kids and they’re always off on playdates and doing sports and stuff.”
Harper nodded thoughtfully. “Their kids could come.”
“You’re right, they could,” Macey said, dunking the tea bags a few times. The idea of sitting at her kitchen table over mugs of coffee or tea with the other moms she knew, chatting about the school year or complaining about homework while their kids played outside, gave her an oddly warm feeling. She put the lid on the pot. “How about we let this steep for a few minutes and go see your room?”
“Okay,” Harper said. “Cora, you comin’?” Harper gently lifted Keeper’s head off her lap and stood.
“What about you, Keeper?” Harper asked, tousling his ears as they walked back down the hall to the wide center staircase.
“I’m afraid Keep can’t come,” Ben explained as he led the way. “He has trouble with stairs.” He eyed him. “You stay here, pal.”
A shadow of disappointment fell across Harper’s face as Keeper stood at the bottom step. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, turning to followed Macey and Cora. When she got to the top, she leaned on the railing to catch her breath, and when she did, she realized Keeper had rested his head on the bottom step, his eyes following her.
Macey passed the first door and gestured to it. “This is our room,” she said, and Harper peeked in and saw a large, beautiful room with a huge bed covered with a pretty patchwork quilt. “And this would be your room,” she said, gesturing to the room across the hall. “I know it’s decorated for someone much younger than you right now, but we’re planning to redecorate and we thought—since it’
s going to be your room—maybe you’d like to pick things out.”
Harper nodded as she walked into the spacious, bright room with three big windows that looked over the backyard and the river. The walls were painted a pretty ocean green and had creamy white wainscoting along the bottom.
“It’s nice,” she said softly. “You don’t have to change anything.” She turned slowly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want me to live in the cupboard under the stairs?”
Macey frowned uncertainly and then realized what she meant. “You mean like Harry Potter?” she asked. “No, we don’t want you to live under the stairs!”
Harper pulled out a bureau drawer. Although it was lined with pretty paper, it was empty.
“I thought we could go shopping for some new clothes,” Macey offered quickly.
Harper looked down at her too-short jeans and tattered Keds. Other kids always called her pants high waters and asked her if she was waiting for a flood. “I guess I could use some new pants.”
She sat on the bed and sank into the soft mattress, and then she jiggled it to see if it squeaked. It didn’t. She stood up and walked over to the new computer desk under one of the windows and clicked on the lamp. “I don’t have a computer,” she said, “so I probably won’t need a desk.”
“We weren’t sure if you had one,” Ben said. “Macey and I have laptops—which you can use, if you need to. I’m sure, down the road, you’ll need one, too, though . . . for school.”
Harper stared out the window and bit her lip, fighting back tears—she couldn’t believe this was happening. Why were they being so nice? She never expected to be placed with people who were actually friendly and kind—it made her feel funny inside. It’s all too good to be true, she suddenly decided, I’m definitely not going to be fooled by all this—they may seem nice, saying they’re going to let me help decorate and offering to buy me stuff—but they might just be trying to impress Cora. As soon as she leaves, they might change their tune completely.
She suddenly reached for Cora’s hand. “Let’s go,” she whispered, trying to avoid Macey’s eyes.
Cora frowned. “What’s the matter, child? Don’t you like your room?”
“It’s fine,” Harper said in a hushed voice, pulling her toward the door.
