Jumping Puddles

by Rachael Brownell

  FEBRUARY 1991

  AUGUST 1991

  DECEMBER 1991

  MARCH 1992

  JULY 1992

  DECEMBER 1992

  JANUARY 1993

  FEBRUARY 1993

  MARCH 1993

  MAY 1993

  JUNE 1993

  AUGUST 1993

  FEBRUARY 2000

  JUNE 2000

  SEPTEMBER 2000

  DECEMBER 2000

  JANUARY 2001

  JUNE 2001

  JULY 2001

  AUGUST 2002

  OCTOBER 2014

  NOVEMBER 2014

  CONNECT WITH RACHAEL

  Jumping Puddles

  Copyright © 2016 by Rachael Brownell

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design and Formatting by Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs

  Cover Photography by Cassy Roop

  ISBN 13: 978-1534987005

  ISBN 10: 1534987002

  I fell for the love of my life over twenty-five years ago. We’ve had our ups and down, trials and tribulations. We spent years together and then years apart, but never once did my love for him waver, nor his for me. I wouldn’t trade a single day I spent with him for anything else in the world. Now that he’s gone, I find myself reflecting back on our story fondly. Some moments make me smile while others make me bawl like a baby.

  You see, I always hoped for the perfect love story. I thought I deserved it because of everything that had happened in my life before I met him. The world owed me. At the time, it never crossed my mind he would be my reward. At least, not at first. In fact, it wasn’t until after I lost him the first time I realized how badly I had screwed up my own love story.

  Some things can’t be fixed with a simple apology, though. Our love was one of those things. We had to work for it. We had to sacrifice for each other. Adjustments needed to be made. Dreams were shattered and then rebuilt. The result, our own perfect love story.

  It’s not your average “boy meets girl and they live happily ever after.” It’s real. It took more work than I could have ever imagined. What I thought would be months turned into years. Then those years turned into a decade.

  For every storm that passed, we found ourselves searching for rainbows and jumping in puddles. Every choice we made created ripples in time. Those ripples are what determined the path to our future, to our happily ever after, and that path was rocky.

  EVERYONE’S LIFE IS FULL of obstacles and issues. I’ve always tried to see the brighter side of things, but lately, it’s been a challenge. Instead of being able to see the rainbows after the storm, I can’t seem to look past the storm itself.

  When I was six years old, there was a storm. It swept through quickly, leaving the Earth saturated. My mother took me outside, and I spent the next few hours jumping in the puddles of water left behind. When I stepped in the puddles, small waves caused the surface to distort. Every time I stomped my foot, water would splash up, getting the hem of my dress wet and disturbing the surface of the puddle.

  Sometimes it feels like my life has been a series of puddles I’ve been pushed in, causing the entire surface to be disturbed. The biggest puddle, the reason I jump over them and not in them anymore, was the day my parents died. That day changed the rest of my life, and nothing's felt right since then.

  As the car pulls to a stop, I stare at the house and take stock of where I’m about to land. Nice yard. Large front porch. An adorable, middle-aged couple waiting for me. They look… normal. Looks can be deceiving, though. The people I just left looked normal until the door closed behind me. That’s when their true colors started to shine.

  It didn’t take long to understand why they were interested in an older foster kid. I was a slave. If I wasn’t cleaning their house or washing their clothes, I was forced to watch the other kids so they could have a break. There were nights when they came home well after we were all in bed and days when they still weren’t there to make breakfast. That became my job.

  Three weeks, that’s all I lasted. The moment he backhanded me for forgetting to close the bread bag properly was the moment I decided it was over. I was done. I’d never been one to run from my problems, but those bastards changed that. Instead of walking to school like I was supposed to, I ran as fast as possible, straight downtown to the DFS office.

  To say they were surprised to see me is an understatement. My case worker even did a double take when I walked in her office.

  “Charlotte. What are you doing here?” she asked, a look of surprise on her face.

  “I can’t live there, Beth.”

  “I know it’s hard. It’s an adjustment, and it’s only temporary. I need you to try, though. It’s only been a few weeks. You didn’t even give them a chance.” Walking around her desk, Beth took the seat across from me, placing her hand on my knee.

  “You’re right. I should give them a chance,” I replied, my voice heavy with sarcasm. “In fact, I better get back before they notice I’m gone. If I don’t, the toilet may never get cleaned.”

  Standing, ready to leave, I felt Beth’s hand on my arm. I pulled away, not wanting her pity. I knew the reality of my situation: two more years before I’m out of the system—two very long years before I’m free and able to stand on my own two feet.

  “We’ll find you somewhere else, Charlotte. I promise.” Her voice was soft, caring.

  I’d only known Beth for a few weeks, but she’d been honest with me since the moment we met. I trusted her. Trust was something that was normally earned with me, but I’d given it to Beth freely. I wanted to trust her.

  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I focus on today. The woman waves from the porch, and I find myself raising my hand to return the gesture. I catch my hand before it rises above the window, stopping myself. Her smile becomes tentative as she turns to the man standing beside her. He meets her gaze, and her demeanor changes after a few beats. She relaxes, her shoulders sagging forward, as she reaches for his hand.

  It’s time.

  I reach for the handle, pull it toward me, and push the door open. As I place my foot on the concrete of the driveway, I take a deep breath and say a silent prayer. I pray this place will be different than the last, better. I pray for a normal life. I pray I will be safe here. Finally, I pray my parents will watch over and protect me.

  The bottom step creaks as I place the majority of my weight on it. I focus my attention on the step, where my foot has landed. They are in pristine condition. There is no reason it should shift under the weight of my one hundred ten pound frame. Was the noise a figment of my imagination, or did it really happen?

  “Charlotte.”

  My attention is drawn to the woman standing on the porch as she sweetly says my name. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her middle as if she’s giving herself a hug. There’s a nip in the air today. She’s wearing a jacket, but it doesn’t seem to be enough to keep her warm. I watch as her husband wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in close.

  “Hi,” I finally reply.

  “Why don’t we all go inside and get to know each other a little better,” Beth suggests from behind me. I had almost forgotten she was here.

  I feel her push against the small of my back, encouraging me to move up the steps and t
oward the front door. I look down at my legs and will them to move. They cooperate after a few seconds, and before I realize it, I’m walking through the open door and into a nicely decorated living room. I turn and look behind me to see the man closing the door, my heart skipping a beat.

  “Would either of you like something to drink? I just made iced tea.”

  “No thank you, Alice. Why don’t we all sit down and talk for a few minutes, get to know each other a little better? Charlotte, does that sound good to you?” Beth turns to me and waits patiently for my answer.

  My bag is in Beth’s car. I can still change my mind. I don’t have to stay here.

  Alice’s smile turns hesitant, unsure of how I’m going to answer Beth. I should give these people a chance. Not everyone is going to be like Charles and Sue. They weren’t nervous when I met them. They were chipper and excited to add me to their growing “clan” of foster kids. Alice is the opposite of excited. She couldn’t be more nervous if she tried.

  Me? I’m not nervous. It’s my choice. I’m not sure how Beth pulled it off, but I’ve been staying with her the last few weeks. If I say no today, that I don’t want to stay here, I get to go back to Beth’s. At least, I think I do. I’m sure it won’t be a forever thing. I’ll eventually have to land somewhere, and it can’t be Beth’s. She’s not a foster parent, even though she would be great at it.

  Beth clears her throat, knowing I need another push.

  “Sure,” I reply, forcing a smile. Alice visibly relaxes after hearing my answer.

  I take a seat on the couch closest to me and Beth joins me. Alice and her husband sit across from us on the other couch and I watch as he once again takes her hand in his, calming her.

  “So, Charlotte, Beth has told us a lot about you. Has she told you anything about us?” His voice is calm and collected as if he’s been rehearsing that one sentence all afternoon.

  “Alice stays at home, and you are a pediatrician. You’ve tried to have a baby for a while, and since it hasn’t happened, you decided to foster.” I’m not sure why they aren’t adopting, but I’ll save those questions for a different day if that day comes. That information isn’t important right now.

  “That’s us in a nutshell. Do you have any questions?” His voice is chipper, something I’m not used to. He seems nice. Maybe too nice.

  “Just one.” I pause, making sure I have their full attention. They’re both staring at me, a look of curiosity on their faces. Yep, I have their attention. “Why would you want to take in a sixteen-year-old girl?”

  Alice breathes a visible sigh of relief. “If you can’t tell, I’m a little nervous. We’ve never done this before. I guess I thought it would be better if we skipped the early years and fostered someone who might need adult guidance and not diaper changes and bottles. One day, we’d love to foster more kids, kids of all ages, but to be honest, we have no idea what we’re doing. I have no idea how to be a mother. Scott’s never been a father. That’s not who we want to be to you. We’re not here to replace your parents, we’re here to help.”

  Check and mate.

  This woman, bless her soul, wants to help. Nothing more. Nothing less. That’s all I’m looking for. Someone I can rely on when I need them. I had parents, fantastic parents, and an Aunt who would have died for me if cancer hadn’t killed her first. I don’t want to replace them, and I never will.

  “Beth,” I whisper as I turn to face her. “What do you think?”

  “I think this is as good as it gets, Charlotte. I don’t think you will find a better match. You would be silly not to stay here.”

  I nod my head, agreeing wholeheartedly with her assessment.

  “If it would be alright with you, I think I’d like to give this a try,” I say to Alice and Scott.

  Alice nods, a smile spreading across her face. For the first time since arriving, there isn’t a trace of nervousness on her face.

  I leave Beth in the living room, stepping outside to get my bag from her car. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement and quickly turn to see what it is. There’s a boy on the porch next door. He’s staring at me. I raise my hand to wave, and he waves back. By the time I reach Beth’s car, he’s standing next to it.

  He’s only a few inches taller than me, maybe five foot eleven or so. His brown hair is tousled as if he just woke up. Chocolate brown eyes meet mine, waiting for me say something. I stare, wondering who this boy is and why my stomach just did a back flip.

  “Hey,” he finally says.

  “Hi.” My conversational skills have vanished.

  “I’m Blake.”

  “Charlotte.”

  “Nice to meet you, Charlotte,” he says as he extends his hand toward me. I reluctantly extend my hand and allow his to wrap around mine.

  “Nice to meet you, too. It looks like we’re going to be neighbors.”

  “Are the Waterman’s moving?” He genuinely sounds confused.

  “No, I’m sorry. I guess I assumed you might already know. They are fostering me.” He’s staring at me, waiting for me to elaborate. “My parents are dead, so I’m going to live with them,” I blurt out without thinking. I’ve found that, more often than not, people become uncomfortable when I tell them my parents are dead. The last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable.

  “That sucks,” he retorts, seemingly unaffected by my statement. “The Waterman’s are nice, though. I think you’ll like it here.”

  “I hope so.”

  Silence falls between us. I don’t know what else to say to him. Suddenly, I’m uncomfortable. Normally, I would have an exit strategy planned so I don’t get caught in situations like this. I can feel his eyes on me. He’s watching me closely, studying me. I wish I knew what he was thinking. That would make things less awkward, at least for me.

  “I, um, need to grab my bag and head back inside,” I stutter, avoiding eye contact.

  “I’ll see you around, Charlotte,” he replies.

  Chancing a glance in his direction, I’m met with those gorgeous brown eyes again.

  “Yeah.” I’m so lame.

  Blake turns and makes his way down the sidewalk past his house. I stare as he gets farther and farther away, never looking back. When he finally turns the corner at the end of the block, I’m able to focus on the task at hand. With my bag slung over my shoulder, I make my way back up the steps. I can’t help but notice it doesn’t creak this time.

  I pause as I reach the door. Should I knock, or are they expecting me to walk in? I live here now. I guess it would be okay if I walk in, right?

  Uncertain, I knock as I open the door and find Beth and Alice embracing each other. Alice smiles at me over Beth’s shoulder, and it warms my heart. I made the right decision. For the first time since losing my Aunt two months ago, I finally feel like things are going to be okay. I can do this. It’s only for two years.

  THAT FIRST NIGHT, AFTER Alice showed me to my room, they set some ground rules. The rules were simple. I needed to ask before leaving the house unless it was for school. I was expected to come straight home from school to complete my homework. Dinner was at six o’clock every night, and my presence was expected. If I wanted to go out with friends, I needed to be home by eight o’clock on school nights and ten o’clock on weekends. They needed to know who I was going to be with and where we were going. I was responsible for picking up after myself and helping with the housework when asked. Alice even made me a chore chart and posted it on the fridge. The following day, Alice took me shopping for new clothes and enrolled me in school.

  It’s been almost a month, and Alice, Scott, and I are finally finding a groove. Things have been rocky at times. They’re not perfect, but neither am I. We’re getting through it, together. I’ve called Beth almost every day, but I haven’t had the urge to run. Not even once.

  When the day they are blessed with a child comes, and I hope for their sake the day does come, that is going to be the luckiest kid alive. I can’t imagine a more loving family to be a pa
rt of. As much as I wish this weren’t my current situation, the Waterman’s have made me feel safe and loved since the moment I walked in the door. Hopefully one day, I’ll be able to repay them for the kindness they’ve shown me.

  I lock the door and pull it closed behind me. His foot hits the bottom step just as I turn, startling me.

  “Damn it, Blake. You scared me.”

  “Always so jumpy, Charlie. You ready?”

  Blake has been giving me a ride to school for a few weeks now. Once he realized I was walking, he offered, and the Waterman’s said it would be okay. Every morning, he sneaks up on me as I leave the house. You would think I would get used to him and expect it, but I don’t.

  “What have I told you about calling me that?” I scold as I walk past him, toward his car.

  “I can’t help it. It suits you.”

  “Do we have to have this conversation again?”

  “Only if you keep making a big deal about it,” Blake replies, getting in the car and shutting his door before I can say anything.

  When I go to open my door, I find it locked. I peer through the window at him, but he only grins, making no move to unlock the door for me. Tilting his head to the side, Blake waits for me to give in. Weighing my options—walking to school or getting a ride—I finally nod my head in acceptance. Happy with my submission, Blake reaches over the seat and unlocks my door.

  “Was that so hard?” he asks, shifting the car into gear and pulling away from the curb before I even have my seatbelt fastened.

  “Yes, it was, in fact. My dad’s the only one who’s ever called me Charlie. It was his thing and now you’re making it your thing.”

  “No, I’m making it our thing. Just you and me.”

  “Whatever.” I brush him and his stupid nickname off, watching the trees as they pass in a blur.

  I’ve been caving to Blake’s stupid ideas for weeks. He had to have known I would cave on the nickname, too. If I didn’t like him so much, I might be able to resist his charm. Stupid feelings. I’ve managed to keep them hidden from him, but I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to last at this rate. He’s the only friend I have, my best friend, and I love him. I would hate to ruin that, especially since he’s leaving at the end of the summer for college.