by Ashley Hall
Besides, if I had to deal with going to my baby cousin’s baptism, she was going to have to put up with me. As soon as the baptism was over, I’d finally be going home.
Home. It was a foreign word to me. And it wouldn’t be home. Just a house I’d live in. Another temporary living arrangement. Only be there for five months, until I graduated high school.
She’d been the reason why I’d been put into foster care in the first place. She’d been unable to care for me. What a crock. If she’d wanted to be a mom, she could’ve been one. Instead, she sent me away. Supposedly, she had been planning on returning for me, to claim me as her son, but she never did.
Until now. Kind of made me wonder what she wanted from me. I glanced around the church we were sitting in. Or maybe she found religion and wanted to try to make amends. Whatever. I had a rough go of it in foster care, so I wasn’t in the forgiving mood, at least not yet.
Jacqueline was sitting next to me in the pew, wearing a dress that was cut lower than was really appropriate for a church. We had the same nose and eye color—blue—but other than that, we were different. Allegedly, she had turned her life around. I didn’t care to hear about it. My life hadn’t been the easiest, and to hear that she had been living the comfortable life the past few months didn’t make me warm up to her. Not at all.
Bored, I looked around again. This was a huge turnout for the baptism. Baptisms, actually. Another baby was getting baptized too. The priest was going on and on about fresh starts and a new life, and I didn’t bother to pay attention. Next to Jacqueline was Walter Morrison, my step-father. Hadn’t said much to him, and he hadn’t said much to me. A man of few words. I appreciated that, but if he thought he would tell me what to do, he thought wrong, and he’d learn that quick enough. That crock about “my house, my rules” wasn’t going to fly with me. I wasn’t a child anymore.
A bunch of aunts and cousins sat behind us. I didn’t know their names. Jacqueline had mentioned there was going to be a gathering at the house afterward, and I guessed introductions would be done then. Great. Just what I always wanted. It was hard enough for me to be around her and now I had this huge extended family too. Looked like just aunts, though. Didn’t say any guys who could be uncles. Huh.
Several pews down from me, I made eye contact with a very pretty girl. Hopefully she was with the other baby, because, man, she was beautiful. Long blond hair and big eyes. I smiled at her, and she blushed and glanced away.
A few minutes later, I checked her out. She was looking my way. Again, she blushed and immediately shifted her attention elsewhere. A third time, and, finally, she maintained eye contact for more than a second, even though she still looked away first.
Maybe not all of this would be so bad after all.
Everyone around me started to stand. The baptism was over. I left my pew and tried to locate the girl, but I couldn’t find her. Too many people were swarming around, wanting to congratulate the baby—which was silly because the baby was crying and had no idea what was going on—and wishing to hold or kiss her. Far too many people, if you asked me. I hated crowds. In general, I didn’t like people. I’d been labeled a lot of things over the years—a loner, a bad boy, and loads worse. Loner did fit. The rest? Yeah, they did too.
I moved off to the side and waited for the place to clear out some, still keeping an eye out for Blondie, but I didn’t see her.
Jacqueline approached. “Are you ready to go home?” she asked. She smiled painfully, as if she didn’t know if she should smile or not.
“Whatever.” I shrugged.
She walked away, and after a moment, I followed her. I sat in the backseat of Walter’s car. It was nice, very nice. Definitely not a base model. Smelled like it was new, which churned my stomach. Walter had money. Had long had they been married? Couldn’t Jacqueline have gotten me out of the foster system before I’d aged out?
No point in getting bitter over it. I was out now, and if I didn’t like living with them, I could hit the road. She couldn’t force me to live with them. I was an adult now. Besides, I’d be graduating in five months, and I had plans to move across the country and work on motorcycles. Nothing she could say about it would change my mind.
New house. New family. New school. New, new, new.
I’ve been to so many new houses and families and schools already that it didn’t bother me. No expectations meant no disappointment. I never ended up being adopted—through no fault of my own, of course. I was nothing but a model kid growing up. Okay, yeah, those were horns holding up my halo. Over the years, I had a lot of chances to be disappointed. When I first went to a foster home, I did get my hopes up. The family had too many kids though. Four of their own plus three fosters, and that wasn’t including me. Another kid and I got sent packing. Didn’t know if the other two fosters got adopted or not. Didn’t care. They were both bullies.
The entire length of the car ride, Jacqueline babbled about this and that. I didn’t listen, just stared out the window. How many days until school let out? Couldn’t come quickly enough. I just wanted to live my life the way I wanted to. Without rules.
Gradually, the houses we drove past changed from ranches and two-stories to taller ones with attached two- or three-car garages. The lawns were immaculate. No peeling paint, no graffiti, no broken windows…the houses didn’t look anything like the ones I’d spent some time living in.
Walter turned onto a long drive that ended up leading to a gigantic home. Seriously, who needed a crib this size? Man. Maybe I should start singing a sweeter tune. Maybe I could see if Walter would cough up some dough for some kickass wheels for me.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jacqueline gushed. “Just wait until you see the inside. It’s a darling little place.”
I couldn’t help snorting. Nothing about this place screamed “little.”
As soon as Walter put the car into park, I was already opening my door and slammed it shut.
Wincing, Walter climbed out and eased his closed. “Be a little more gentle.”
“Sorry,” I muttered. Force of habit. I’d slammed many a door over the years. And so much for singing a sweeter tune. I cleared my throat and decided to try again. “Looks like a great house.”
“It is.” Walter puffed out his chest. He was a bear of a dude, barrel-chested. Not sure if it was from muscles or fat. Probably a little of both.
“After the party,” Jacqueline cut in, “we can give you a grand tour. How does that sound?”
“Just peachy,” I said, a little sarcastically. Couldn’t help myself. It rubbed me wrong to see her living the life of luxury while I’d been lucky to get two meals at some of the foster homes I’d been stashed in when the state got tired of me.
The interior, like Jacqueline had claimed, was even nicer. High vaulted ceilings, expensive-looking paintings and pictures on the walls, plush white rugs lining the walls and requiring everyone to remove their shoes as soon as they crossed the threshold. If Jacqueline hadn’t entered first, I would’ve made my second gaffe already. Like a good son, I kicked off my worn sneakers. Didn’t own a pair of decent shoes.
Jacqueline looked at them and sniffed. “I hadn’t wanted to say anything earlier,” she started, but other cars were parking next to and behind Walter’s, and she rushed away to play hostess.
Time to make nice with step-father. Who cared if he knew it was only sucking up for his money? He’d want to keep Jacqueline happy, right? Happy wife, happy life and all that garbage.
He was pouring himself some scotch from a round table beneath a scenery painting.
I walked over. “Nice pic.”
“Nice pic?” He didn’t even bother to look over at me. “It’s more than nice. It’s an original—”
“Walt, there you are.” One of my aunts walked over and gave him a tight, long hug. And a kiss. On the lips.
Okay…maybe they try to be like Europeans. But don’t they kiss everyone on both cheeks? I didn’t know. I wasn’t the most cultured. Other than from
movies and the Internet, if I was lucky enough to be in a house that had a computer, I had no exposure to Europe.
Since they were talking, I ducked out of the way and avoided everyone. I couldn’t wait until everyone arrived, and we could eat. The spread was insane. So much food, so many options. I ate until I was stuffed. Didn’t talk much, but I did keep an eye on Walter. He was definitely overly close with more than one of my aunts. My eyes nearly bulged when I spied him tap one on the ass when she walked by. What the hell? Did Jacqueline know her husband had a wandering eye and touchy-feely hands? Did she care?
Maybe it wasn’t my place to say anything—it sure didn’t feel like it was any of my business—but after the dinner party and the guests who had drank too much to drive were given guest quarters and had gone to bed, I sought out Jacqueline. Walter was nowhere around, but just to make certain, I asked, “Wanna go outside for a minute?”
She beamed. “Sure, Wesley.”
Her heels were the pair of shoes closest to the door. She put them on—red to match her tight dress and her lips—and opened the door. As soon as she shut it behind her, I opened my mouth, but she started first. That was Jacqueline, all right. A talker. I swore she must not have eaten anything. Every time I glanced her way, she was talking to someone over dinner.
“Anything you need, you just let Walter know. Shoes, clothes, a new jacket…” She eyed me in a way that had me feeling like I was less than worthy. It was the same way prospective parents had eyed me before they dismissed me as a lost cause.
Now wasn’t the time to mention wheels. Besides, what she’d listed were necessities…at least in her mind. My sneakers were a little tattered, but they weren’t falling apart yet. Although it might have been nice to have some decent clothes before starting at yet another school.
“Thanks. Will do. Ah…” I rubbed the back of my neck and walked down the porch steps.
Jacqueline followed. “What’s on your mind? I know I haven’t always been there for you, but I really want to make things right. I want to be here for you now. I know that won’t change the past, but I’m trying.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. I could tell when someone was hiding something, if they were telling the truth or lying, and honestly, I didn’t want to know if she was deceiving me or herself.
I cleared my throat. “I couldn’t help noticing…”
“Noticing what?”
“Walter,” I blurted. “He was a little hands-on with your sisters. I saw it myself. I…I thought you might want to know.”
Jacqueline didn’t say anything.
I glanced at her. Her cheeks were redder than just her blush. She was staring at her nails. Her eyes weren’t filling with tears, and her lips weren’t spewing denials or begging for more details about what her bastard of a husband had been doing.
No. If I was reading her correctly, she knew. Even though it had sure seemed to me that Jacqueline had been preoccupied every single time Walter had been way too friendly with her sisters.
“Wesley, you know I met Walter after leaving your father, right? Your father…he was a terrible man. Just awful. If you thought I was bad…let’s not get into that.” Jacqueline waved her hands as if to ward off my father. “Walter and I hit it off right from the start, and, well…”
“Well what?” Somehow I knew I wasn’t going to like what she had to say.
“Well, I didn’t just become Walter’s wife.”
What in the world was she talking about?
“I became a sister wife. The women I introduced you to before the baptism started? They aren’t my sisters. Not blood sisters, at least. They aren’t your aunts either. They’re actually your other mothers. Your ‘cousins’? They are your step-siblings.”
I stared at her blankly. “What?”
“We’re in a polygamous—”
“Yeah, I understand that, kinda But why? Seriously?” What the fuck? What the hell had she stumbled into? And now she was dragging me into it too.
Without waiting for her to explain more, I started to stomp away from her, not back to the house but toward the long path that would lead back to the street.
“Wesley, I see you’re upset—”
“You think?” I whirled around. “How can you accept that? Share him? Don’t you realize this means you aren’t enough for him? How can you settle for—”
“I’m not settling.” Jacqueline walked over toward me. “I know this is a lot to take in. Please try to understand. I promise you, things will be fine. You’ll see.” She smiled at me, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—return it. “This was going to be a surprise, but I’ll just tell you. We’re going to have a big lunch tomorrow to celebrate your return. Please stay. Come back in the house. If you have any questions—”
“I don’t,” I grumbled.
“Just please don’t go, Wesley,” she whispered. “Give me a chance.”
“It’s not just you I have to give a chance, though, right? It’s you and your husband and his other wives and my step-siblings. How many women did Walter knock up? How many kids does he have?”
She opened her mouth.
I held up my hand. “Don’t want to know.”
Jacqueline stood there for a moment. Neither of us said anything. Finally, head down, she returned to the house.
I stood there, shocked, upset, bewildered. I didn’t understand what kind of life she’d chosen, but, for now, I’d stay here. Once I weaseled a bike out of Jacqueline and Walter, though, I’d be gone.
That decided, I walked back to the house. Jacqueline smiled sadly and wordlessly led me to my room. My own room. A big room. I never had a room to myself before.
Still didn’t mean I planned on living here forever though.
Chapter Two
The bed was soft. Almost too soft. It took me some time to be able to fall asleep. Couldn’t turn off my mind and stop thinking about what Jacqueline had said. What kind of a life was that? Being one of many to a guy? Sure, Walter had a lot of money, but still. Whatever. It was her life. She could do what she wanted. I didn’t give a damn. I doubted I’d ever marry and have kids, but if I did, it sure as hell would only be to one woman. I didn’t need three or four or more to keep me satisfied. Just the right one. If she was even out there.
The sun shining right into my eyes woke me the next morning. The curtains, heavy ones that reached the floor, were spread open, and light flooded into the room. Ugh. All I wanted to do was sleep some more, but I could hear people in the hallway, and I had to take a piss, so it looked like I wouldn’t be returning to dreamland until tonight.
Where was the bathroom anyhow? I knew there was one on the first floor from the party, but there had to be more than one for a house this size.
I climbed out of bed and stretched. My clothes were wrinkled. My small bag was at the foot of my bed. Not sure who put it there or when, but I quickly changed my clothes. A green and black striped shirt, a little on the tight side, and a pair of ripped jeans. All right. Bathroom search time.
My door creaked open, and two boys streaked on by. They were tossing a small football back and forth. I waited for them to race down the hall and out of sight to leave my room. No way did I want to get blamed when they broke something, which had to be inevitable.
There were a ton of doors lining the hallway, and I hesitated. All of the doors were closed. Maybe I should just go downstairs to that bathroom.
A door opened, and a woman walked out. She smiled at me.
Crap. Jacqueline had introduced me to her at the party, but I couldn’t remember her name.
“How did you sleep, Wesley?” she asked.
“Good. I…no complaints,” I muttered.
Her smile widened. “If you need anything, just let me—”
“Where’s the bathroom?” Yeah, it was rude to interrupt, but I doubted Walter would appreciate me peeing in his hallway. My bladder was killing me.
“Oh, right here.” She nodded to the room she’d just left. “I’ll see you ar
ound.”
I rushed inside and did my business. Had I ever felt more ill at ease at one of my many foster houses? I didn’t think so, and that was saying something.
Although I was hungry, I didn’t bother to leave my room to go down for breakfast. I wasn’t in the mood for company, not after learning that everyone in the house was family to some extent. A special lunch for me with all of them was more than I wanted to handle, so I wasn’t going to add breakfast to that too.
A knock on the door had me glancing at the clock. Quarter to noon already. I’d long ago learned how to pass the time in a room by myself. Some foster parents did it to make them feel good. It wasn’t about the kids at all, and they ignored them, left them to fend for themselves. I’d become quite good at it—fending for myself.
