by Lexi Ryals
The girls all got comfortable, rolling on their sides or backs so they could see Annie. Annie walked over to her cubby and pulled out a plastic bag. Inside was the old receipt from Domani with a note scrawled on the back. Annie didn’t even bother looking at it. She knew the words in the note by heart:
“Please take care of our baby. Her name’s Annie. We’ll be back to get her soon. There’s half a locket around her neck and we have the other half, so when we come for her you’ll know she’s our girl.”
The girls all sighed. It sounded too good to be true, but they loved hearing it.
“Can I see it?” Mia whispered. She was rubbing her eyes tiredly. She held out her hand and Annie passed the note to her.
“They’re going to come back for all of us,” Annie said confidently. “And I bet they’re wonderful.”
She looked down and saw Mia had fallen asleep. So Annie tucked Mia in and put the note away. Then she climbed into her own bed and held on to her locket until she fell asleep, too.
A loud pounding and Miss Hannigan yelling, “Wake up, rats! Wake up!” jolted Annie from the nicest dream. She’d been eating cannoli with her parents. In the dream she couldn’t see what they looked like, but she could tell it was them. And they loved her very much.
Annie closed her eyes and pulled the pillow over her head, hoping Miss Hannigan would go away.
But the doorknob turned and Miss Hannigan burst in, holding up a key and yelling, “Out of bed!”
“It’s six thirty in the morning,” Pepper complained groggily.
“And it’s Saturday,” Isabella added.
“Thanks for the time and date. Now over to Stormy with the weather,” Miss Hannigan replied sarcastically. Then she held out a water bottle and sprayed the girls with cold water. “It’s raining!”
The girls cried out and scurried out of bed.
“The city’s coming to inspect. You gotta clean the whole place up,” Miss Hannigan announced.
“Aren’t they supposed to give notice?” Annie asked.
“Aren’t I supposed to be married to George Clooney?” Miss Hannigan mocked.
“Who’s George Clooney?” Mia asked.
“Exactly, girlfriend,” Miss Hannigan said. Then she yelled, “Start cleaning! If they dock me for unsanitary conditions again, I’ll ground you all for a month.” Miss Hannigan turned and headed back to her bedroom. “No breakfast until this place is spotless.” She slammed the door shut behind her.
“I hate her so much.” Pepper scowled.
“I was having the best dream. I was ice-skating. On real-live ice.” Tessie sighed.
Isabella laughed. “Save your dreams for good stuff. Like shopping. With an unlimited credit card.”
“Or swimming in candy,” Mia added. “Gummy bears, jelly beans, those little dot things on paper …”
“Or flying to the moon in a rocket — all things that’ll never happen,” Pepper said.
Just then the door swung open again and Miss Hannigan dropped a pile of mops, buckets, and cleaning supplies onto the girls’ bedroom floor. “Clean like your life depends on it. ’Cause it does. And if you find any loose change, it’s mine.”
“Come on,” Annie said to her friends once Miss Hannigan had left. “Let’s get this done fast so we can go out and enjoy this beautiful day.” She turned on the radio and the girls sang along and danced as they cleaned their way through the apartment, making beds, scrubbing floors, and mopping.
When they reached the living room, they found Miss Hannigan lying on the sofa watching a soap opera. “Less singing, more cleaning,” she hissed at them. “And make my bathroom shine. But don’t touch my medicine cabinet!”
Annie and Isabella stifled giggles. All of the girls knew that Miss Hannigan kept her stash of liquor in her medicine cabinet.
A few hours later, the apartment was spotless. The girls were all showered and dressed and waiting for the inspector. Miss Hannigan stood in front of them passing out props and orders. “You, read a book. You, braid her hair. Practice for a recital. You, put this puzzle together. It’s a kitty cat.”
“What should I do?” Annie asked.
“Pray,” Miss Hannigan replied.
“I’ve tried. It doesn’t work,” Tessie whispered to Annie.
There was a knock at the door.
“Showtime,” Miss Hannigan said. “Act well-cared-for.”
“We love you, Miss Hannigan!” the girls chorused sweetly.
“Ugh.” Miss Hannigan rolled her eyes. “Take it down a thousand. No one’s gonna believe that.” She walked over to the door and opened it. The inspector waiting on the other side was young and handsome and not at all what she had been expecting. “Whoa. Well, hello there.”
“Excuse me?” the inspector asked.
“Nothing,” Miss Hannigan said brightly. “It’s just, most inspectors are old and not rock-star gorgeous.”
The inspector wasn’t fazed. “Are you Colleen Hannigan?” he asked matter-of-factly, looking down at his clipboard.
“My maiden name. But I’m not married to it. If you know what I mean,” Miss Hannigan replied flirtatiously. “Come on in. The girls are just recreating.”
The inspector walked in to find the girls playing and acting happy. “How’s everyone doing?” he asked.
“Just living the dream.” Annie smiled sweetly.
Miss Hannigan took the inspector’s arm and led him toward the kitchen. “Can I offer you something to drink? Skim milk? Kale smoothie? Fresh-squeezed orange juice?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Let’s start in the bathroom?” he suggested.
As they headed down the hallway, the inspector dropped a piece of paper from his clipboard.
Pepper bent down and picked it up. She read it quickly. “This has all our information on it.”
All of the girls rushed over to look at it.
“I’ve been in a lot of homes,” Isabella said, pointing at her name.
“This says I’ve been in millions,” Tessie exclaimed.
“That’s your Social Security number, dummy,” Pepper told her.
“What’s a scocial scasurty murder?” Mia asked.
Isabella laughed. “It’s what you need to apply for a credit card.”
“Wait!” Annie exclaimed. “I can use this to get my records. And find my parents.”
“I’ll copy it down,” Tessie said, scrambling to find a pen and paper. “Plan your exit.”
Annie, with her information carefully folded up in her pocket, headed down the hall to make her escape. She paused outside the bathroom and listened. Miss Hannigan was still trying to flirt with the good-looking inspector, who didn’t seem interested in the slightest.
Annie stuck her head into the bathroom. “Can I go to the library to study?”
“Let’s talk about it after the handsome inspector with no wedding ring is gone, okay?” Miss Hannigan answered through clenched teeth. “Now, run along.”
“Okay,” Annie said, thinking fast. “But first, can I have some floss? I got some nutritious breakfast stuck in my teeth. Pretty sure I saw some in the medicine cabinet.”
The inspector pointed to the medicine cabinet. “In here?” he asked.
Miss Hannigan, looking panicked, scurried in front of the inspector before he could open the cabinet. She shot Annie a nasty look. “I think we’re out. Why don’t you pick some up on the way to the library?”
“Thank you, Miss Hannigan!” Annie beamed. Then she turned and skipped out of the bathroom.
Miss Hannigan glared at her and then turned to smile at the inspector. “I don’t do this for them, they do this for me. I’m really a singer — I’m just between gigs at the moment. The kids keep my feet on the ground.”
Annie raced down the street to Lou’s bodega, grinning broadly. Lou was sitting behind the counter and looked up when he saw her come in. The walls of the shop were covered in old head shots of Miss Hannigan from her performance days. There was also one picture of Miss Hannigan and
Lou together, signed: Lou, Thanks for always looking out, Colleen.
“Uh-oh. I know that run. How much you need, mija?” Lou asked. That was Spanish for “my girl.”
“Forty-three fifty-five,” Annie said hopefully.
“By when?” Lou asked.
“Now?” Annie replied, still looking hopeful.
Lou laughed. “Go rob a bank. I can loan you my mask.”
“Please, Lou. I think I’m close to finding my parents.” Annie gave him her best puppy-dog eyes.
Lou sighed. There was no way he could say no to Annie. “Take out the expired drinks from the cooler.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Annie exclaimed. She grabbed the trash can and started to drag it over to the cooler.
“What are you doing, girl? Don’t throw them out. Change the date,” Lou instructed and then tossed her a pen.
Annie smiled and sat down on the floor, stacking drinks and watching TV with Lou.
Meanwhile, in Brooklyn, Will Stacks was giving a speech at a soup kitchen in front of a gaggle of reporters.
“… I believe in hard work. Never settling for okay. Great is all I know. That’s how I built my company into a worldwide leader. And that’s what I’m going to do with this city. Make it great again.”
“You’re twenty points down in the polls — your billions don’t seem to be working. How do you plan to change people’s minds?” a reporter asked.
“At Stacks Mobile I made a cellular network that never drops a call. As mayor, I’m going to make a government that never drops a citizen,” Will answered smoothly. “But enough politics. Let’s let these good people eat, huh?” Will straightened his tie and walked over to Grace and Guy. “I hate this,” he said in a quiet voice. “For the record, I really hate this.”
“Let me just check the record,” Grace replied with light sarcasm. “Oh, look, there I am, last year, saying: ‘You shouldn’t do this. You will hate this. You will really hate this.’”
Will sighed. “It’ll all be worth it when I win.”
Grace shook her head. “So is this the thing that will make you happy and complete?” she asked. She knew Will was a good man and that he needed something more in his life. But in her opinion, running for mayor wasn’t it.
Guy looked up from reviewing the video of the speech on his tablet. “You only smiled four times. You’ve got to bump that up. Voters respond twenty-three percent more favorably to full-teeth smiles.”
“How do they feel about thumbs-ups?” Will asked.
“Sixteen percent better if you give a single, thirty-eight percent if you shoot them the double,” Guy replied. Then he shot Will a double thumbs-up to demonstrate.
“Am I going to win, Guy?” Will asked more seriously. “’Cause I don’t like wasting time.”
“You hired me to win. You’ll win,” Guy answered just as seriously. Then he handed Will an apron and a hairnet.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” Will asked.
“You have to serve them,” Guy replied.
“The hoboes? Are you serious? Why?” Will wrinkled his nose as he put on the hairnet. It was really a shame to cover up such a gorgeous head of perfectly cut hair.
Grace smiled at him. “Because for some crazy reason, everyone thinks you’re a rich elitist who can’t connect with regular people.”
“You’re telling me to ‘keep it real,’ Miss ‘I Went to Oxford,’” he grumbled at her.
“I’m just telling you that if you want any chance, you have to remember where you came from. Okay?” She helped him tie the apron on.
“Make sure you compliment the food, but not too much,” Guy instructed.
“I’m not eating that food,” Will stated.
“You’re going to eat the food,” Guy replied firmly. “Say it’s good, don’t say great. And take seconds, but only eat half, or it’ll seem like pandering.”
“How do you sleep at night?” Grace asked Guy.
Guy just smiled. This was nothing. To him, running a campaign was second nature.
Twenty minutes later, Will stood at the buffet line, serving out bowls of soup to Brooklyn’s homeless. He was smiling and laughing with the other volunteers and making small talk with each person he served, but there was something about him that just seemed awkward. The reporters were snapping pictures and taking notes.
“Bet you never had mashed potatoes,” one of the homeless men said to Will.
“Are you kidding?” Will asked. “My grandma made the best mashed potatoes. Best in the Bronx.” He looked over the man’s shoulder and caught Grace’s eye. “Did you know I was from the Bronx? Born and raised. These look pretty good, though — not amazing, but not terrible.”
Will took a big bite of the mashed potatoes, and then immediately spit them back out all over the people waiting in line! They looked at him in shock while Will coughed and patted his chest with his fist. “Went down the wrong pipe,” he said, gagging a little. But the photographers had already taken picture after picture.
Will took a sip of water and then gave it a second try with another bite. He did his best to swallow, but he just couldn’t do it. He spit all the potatoes out again. “These are disgusting!” he exclaimed as more cameras flashed.
So much for seeming relatable.
Once inside the car, Will looked at his team sheepishly. “So how do you guys think that went?” he asked. “Nash, you saw it. Would you vote for me if you didn’t work for me?”
“No, sir,” Nash answered without missing a beat.
“Thanks for your honesty. You’re fired,” Will replied, joking.
Nash smiled.
Grace looked up from her tablet. “That didn’t take long.” She held it up. A video of Will spitting on the homeless man was playing on the screen. It had gone viral. “And there are already parodies,” she added, swiping through to show videos of Will spitting on kittens, pandas, and even the president.
She shrugged. “This might be a blessing in disguise. Just because you can run for mayor doesn’t mean you should.”
Will shook his head. “We’ve been through this — the bigger my profile, the better for the company. And also, the city needs my help.”
“Okay, Batman,” Grace joked.
“You let all your employees talk to you like that?” Guy asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Just the ones who’ve made me billions of dollars,” Will replied.
Suddenly, the car jerked to a stop. Nash tried to restart it, but it was no use — something was wrong.
Annie waited as patiently as she could in line at the Family Services Office. She couldn’t believe she was finally going to get to see her records. It was just the breakthrough she had been hoping for.
After what seemed like forever, she reached the front of the line and was called forward by a government worker whose name tag said: MS. KOVACEVIC.
“I’d like to get my records, please,” Annie said politely.
Ms. Kovacevic didn’t look up. “You need DOH form number four-three-eight-zero —”
“Point-seven-dash-A,” Annie finished for her and handed over the completed form.
Ms. Kovacevic raised an eyebrow. “And forty-three dollars and —”
“Fifty-five cents,” Annie cut in and handed over the exact amount in cash.
“Application signed by a parent or —”
“Guardian.” Annie reached over and pointed at the line on the form signed by “Colleen Hannigan” in somewhat childlike writing.
Ms. Kovacevic nodded. She turned and began typing Annie’s info into her computer while Annie watched her every move.
“Are you going to stare at me the whole time?” Ms. Kovacevic asked, clearly annoyed.
“Sorry,” Annie said and then waited patiently until Ms. Kovacevic turned back and handed Annie a sheet of printed paper — her records! “Can you read it? I’m too nervous,” Annie asked.
Ms. Kovacevic sighed. “Annie Bennett, abandoned outside the Twenty-Sixth Precinct. Age es
timate: four years. Placed in state foster care. No further data.”
“What does ‘no further data’ mean?” Annie pushed.
“It means that’s all there is to know about you. Sorry, honey.” Ms. Kovacevic gave her a tight-lipped smile and then turned back to her computer.
“It’s okay, I’ll figure it out,” Annie said and forced a smile of her own.
But outside, she couldn’t help tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. She started heading home through a small park. She was really disappointed. This was supposed to be the day that she’d get a good lead on her parents.
After a moment, she brushed away the tears. There was no use in feeling sorry for herself. Today may not have been the day, but there was always hope for tomorrow!
As she walked out of the park, a cute little dog ran past her. The dog kept stopping to spin in place, chasing her tail. Annie laughed just watching her. But two teenage boys threw some bottles at the poor pup, chasing and taunting her.
“Hey!” Annie yelled and took off running after the boys. She wasn’t going to let them hurt a cute little puppy.
Will’s SUV was toast. The engine wouldn’t start and there was nothing Nash or Guy could do to fix it.
“I’ll call for another car,” Grace announced as Nash closed the hood.
“I think I’m going to walk,” Will said.
“What?” Guy and Grace asked at the same time. They were stunned. Will had always preferred a private car.
“I want the air.” Will shrugged.
“I’ll go with you,” Guy told him.
“No,” Will said, waving him off. “I want to be alone.”
Grace whipped out her phone. “I’ll text you directions.”
Will shook his head and started walking. “I know how to walk down a street,” he called over his shoulder.
“Leave her alone!” Annie cried as she chased the boys chasing the dog. But they paid no attention to her.
She ran across a side street without even looking for traffic. She was having a hard time keeping up. She almost lost them a couple of times but finally spotted them again — they had the dog cornered down the next alley. The pup spun again, chasing its tail.
