by Brooke Moss
“No, thank you.” I pushed myself off the couch. I didn’t even want to think about what Posey was doing just then. I looked at Karen sheepishly. “Sorry. I was sort of vegging out.”
“It’s okay.” She jingled the keys. “You’re welcome to use my car, if you want to go to the diner. Maybe some friends could meet you for a burger.”
I could tell she was just trying to cheer me up, I didn’t have it in me. “Honestly, everybody’s at the school by now, anyway.”
She sighed, and tucked the keys back into her sweater pocket. “I suppose you’re right. I guess I’ll make some dinner. Would you like something to eat?”
My stomach growled, but it had nothing to do with hunger. “You were probably looking forward to a night of peace and quiet.”
Karen headed for the kitchen. “It’s okay, Drew. Sometimes plans change.”
I watched her open the fridge and take out some vegetables. She’d done so much to help me, even forgiving me for missing curfew yesterday. And even though Karen asked for nothing in return, when I’d given her the money from my mother, the relief on her face was clear. Gratitude overwhelmed me, even though I was no good at expressing it.
I wondered if this was how Posey felt towards the Coulters.
Get her out of your head, man.
“You know,” I said, heading towards the guest room. “I’m not very hungry right now. I think I’m going to crash for a while.”
“Okay. You all right?” She tore open a package of ground beef.
“No.” I looked away. “But hopefully I will be soon.”
“Good, kiddo. I hope so, too.” Karen smiled at me right as the doorbell rang. “Shoot. Can you grab that for me? My hands are covered in meat.”
“Sure.” I scratched my hand across the top of my head lazily as I went to the door. Maybe if I slept for the next few hours—or days—I wouldn’t feel like hell over Posey anymore. I wondered how likely it was that I could avoid her at school on Monday.
Not likely at all.
I opened the door, and there, on the other side, stood Posey… and she was dressed to the nines. Tens, if I was being honest. All the air escaped my lungs in one, long wheeze, and I had to put a hand on the doorjamb to keep myself from tipping over.
Her hair was pulled into some sort of up-do with pieces hanging out around her face, and her lips painted the same color as a fire engine. Her porcelain arms and shoulders were bare, her body covered in the brightest red party dress I’d ever seen. There were tucks in the shiny fabric, binding it tightly around her tiny waist and showing just enough of her long, lean legs to send a shot of heat right to my belly.
Her expression was shy as she gazed at me through her thick lashes. “Hi, Drew.”
My voice finally returned. “Po—”
Posey put up her hand, cutting me off. “Just hear me out…” She drew a shuddering breath, and pressed her palms to her stomach. Taking a shuddering breath, she glanced at me. “I have a whole speech worked out.”
I smiled. So much for staying strong and avoiding her.
“I… I know I blew it.” Her words tumbled from her mouth. “I should’ve seen right through my mother’s lies and seen it for what it really was. You were right. It was a power trip. Nobody likes to lose control of their lives, and she’s a prime example of someone whose choices have led to a total loss of control. Finding me, and getting me to take off with her was more about claiming some sort of control over her out of control life than reuniting with her daughter. I know that now. You were right. I was wrong.”
I opened my mouth to argue with her. I didn’t need to hear that. Dammit, I’d been through the same power struggle with my own dad a hundred times. “Hey—”
Her hand touched my chest, halting my words. “Shut up. I’ve got to get through this whole spiel, or I’m going to chicken out.”
“Fine.” I took her hand and held it in mine. God, it felt good.
“You were also right about something else.” Her voice dropped, and those blue eyes moistened. “Sometimes I get paranoid that people will find things out about me that will make them hate me. Sometimes I feel like if others knew everything I’d seen and experienced in my life, they’ll know I’m damaged goods, which is why I always call myself a dented can of peas.” When I looked at her strangely, she added, “Nobody buys the dented can of peas at the store, Drew. They want the fresh can.
“And when I feel that way, I tend to piss them off. I do things or say things to send them packing before they can send me packing. And I know you could see right through me yesterday. You knew what I was doing, but I was too damn stubborn to just admit it and let you love me. I said horrible things to you, and I let you leave, even though you were right. And for that, I’m very, very sorry.”
My throat tightened. I didn’t care. I forgave her. It didn’t matter anymore.
She pressed a hand to her chest. “I can’t promise that I’m not going to do something stupid again. In fact, I may do something stupid before the end of the night.” A tear escaped her lashes, and slid down her cheek. “But I can promise you that I’m never leaving the Coulters again. They’re my family. And I can promise you that I’m never leaving you again. Because as lame as this sounds, you’re my family, too. I can’t imagine ever being without you again. You… I… I love you.”
My stomach twisted, and I scooped her into my arms, pressing my face into her hair. “I love you, too, Po. I won’t ever leave you again.”
She pulled back enough to give me a soft, lingering kiss. “Drew?”
“Yeah?” I whispered, reeling from her kiss. I wanted another. And fast.
She grinned, her blue eyes sparkling. “Will you go to Homecoming with me?”
I rested my forehead against hers, tightening my grip on Posey. I wasn’t letting her go again. “I loaned Mac my suit.”
“I don’t care.” She laughed, the sound making my heart chug in my chest. “Besides… Mac told us when he picked up Jessa, so I came with reinforcements.” Glancing over her shoulder, Posey yelled, “Okay, guys! We’re ready!”
Around the corner came the Coulter family. Paula had a suit on a hanger, John was carrying a shirt and tie, and the kids carried takeout boxes from The Diner.
“John’s a little taller than you, but nobody will notice,” Paula said, winking as she stepped past us into Karen’s living room.
Micah held up one of the boxes, sniffing it. “I almost ate your double burger on the way over.”
Lacey shoved him with her elbow. “We thought you might have missed the dinner already, but you’ll get there in time to dance.”
When John walked past he glanced down at my arms around Posey’s body. “Loosen up the grip on my daughter, would ya?”
I obeyed, my face turning red. “Yes, sir.”
“It’s John,” he reminded me with a wink.
When I brought my gaze back to Posey, she smiled proudly. “I brought my parents to help.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Parents. I like the sound of that.”
Stepping aside, I held the door open for her. “I really do love you, Po. Do you know that?”
She sucked on her lip for a moment. “Yeah. I think I really do.”
I closed the door behind us. I needed to get ready for Homecoming.
Epilogue
Her.
When the double doors opened, my stomach turned a clumsy somersault. So many people stared at me. Jessa, Micah, Lacey, Tabitha, and Cooper. Not to mention my last three social workers, Mr. Kingston, his wife, their new baby, and a beaming Blair Baxter.
But when Drew turned and looked at me walking in, that’s when my insides tangled themselves into knots. He looked so elated and proud. It was enough to make my heart burst inside of my chest.
I couldn’t believe this day had come. After six months of being in Twisted Tree, making new friends, learning how to be part of a family, and falling in love with a boy so completely opposite of me that he was utterly perfect for me… I was making i
t all permanent.
After Homecoming, Drew and I grew more rock solid than ever. Maddie finally gave up her hot pursuit of my boyfriend and set her sights on a college boy from Langley. She’d gotten pregnant, and Pastor Mulcahey had decided to homeschool her—which answered about a dozen prayers from me. Jessa and Mac were still going strong, and she had him walking the straight and narrow, shocking Drew… and pretty much everyone else who’d ever known Mac.
Thanks to the awesome job she did on my Homecoming dress, Paula took in steady work as a seamstress until John got a new job. He eventually started working for a carpentry business in Oak Harbor, making twice as much as he did before. With an added bonus of his boss not knowing Drew’s dad at all, so he couldn’t screw with John’s livelihood anymore.
Things in the Coulter household were organized chaos like always, but since I’d stopped fighting their affection, it had become even more picturesque than ever. Sure, I had curfews, and rules, and expectations, and responsibilities now. But I also had seven people who loved me, even when I was a total witch, people who literally never gave up on me.
Thanks to their encouragement, and a stealth phone call from Drew’s mom, I’d managed to get into the University of Washington, where my major would be music education. Drew and I would be going to college together, which meant I would be able to tutor him long term, much to both of our liking.
Now Drew was considering a career in physical education, and would spend his evenings busy working as a swim instructor at the downtown Seattle YMCA—a job he’d been promised after Coach made some calls for his favorite swimmer. His days would be spent in classes and practices for the U-Dub swim team, as he’d managed to still score a partial scholarship—despite having to sit out the semi-finals because he missed two practices. Money would be tight, but Blair was willing to help out, and Drew accepted the idea that he would be working to pay off student loans for years after college. In fact, I think he looked forward to it. Because he not only got to continue swimming, which was his passion, but he got to do it on his terms, and with his own effort. And that meant the world to Drew.
I get sort of giddy every time I think about what the future holds for us. College, jobs, marriage, kids, the whole happily ever after. All that nonsense I never thought I’d ever have, but can’t imagine not achieving now that I have Drew in my life. And it wasn’t just because he’d used half his first paycheck after getting a job as a fry cook at the Diner to buy me a new iPod. It was because he was my very best friend. He knew everything about me—the good, the bad, and the in-between—and he still loved me more every day.
Mayor Baxter was still in charge of the Twisted Tree, but kept a wide berth around Drew and my family. We’re still not sure what Blair said to him to keep him at bay, but whatever it was, it worked. They still lived together in their giant house on the hill, and I could tell it still made Drew wistful that she’d chosen Mayor Baxter instead of him, but he was happy living with Mac and Karen until college in the fall. And as weird as it was, I sort of understood why Blair couldn’t leave the mayor. After all, Celeste couldn’t give up her lifestyle for her kids, either. Sometimes it was hard as hell to give up the one thing that is the worst for you.
Yeah. I referred to my biological mom as Celeste now. It just sort of happened naturally about a month after I came back from Seattle, when I started calling Paula and John Mom and Dad. I didn’t hear much from Celeste anymore. Last I’d heard, she’d gone back to jail on drug charges, and the baby she’d delivered wound up in the system. I blocked her Facebook page, just to be safe. Because sooner or later, she was going to get out, and I didn’t want anymore trouble from her. It was better for me to stay disconnected. I had new parents now. A new family. I didn’t need to be sucked into the black hole that was Celeste.
I got to see Rory and Julian a couple of months ago. My social worker arranged the visit with Aunt Lisa, and we’d spent two hours in a mall playground getting reacquainted. They were so much older now and barely remembered me. But it filled an empty space in my heart that it had left gaping and hollow for so long, I didn’t know what to do with myself once it had been repaired. It was nice to know they were okay.
An arm slid around my waist, squeezing me tight. “Are you ready for this?”
I looked at Mom, and emotion tingled to the surface, tightening my skin. A year ago—crap, even a few months ago—and I would’ve gone running from the room at the first sign of emotion. But now? Now I just let it fill me to the top.
“Ready,” I whispered.
Dad put my hand in his, then patted it affectionately. “Let’s go become a family.”
“An official family,” Mom corrected him, swiping under her eye.
“That’s right.” He smiled and we started walking along the shiny wooden floors towards the stand. “Let’s do this.”
The judge gestured us forward, shuffling the paperwork in front of him. This was it. Adoption day.
I passed Drew and he beamed up at me, winking. Deep inside of my chest, my heart skittered. My life was pretty damn close to perfect these days. And to think, I used to believe that I had to keep my past a secret from people if I wanted them to love me. Especially someone as amazing as Drew.
I guess it took me a while to realize that you can’t hide what’s on the inside from the one person who actually knows you.
The end.
Acknowledgments
I’ve got some pretty spectacular friends in the writing world. One of them happens to be a fellow foster parent, who recommended—over a glass of Glogg, mind you—that I write about foster kids as a way to soothe my aching heart. I followed that advice, and in an odd way, the writing of Posey’s story helped me heal. I didn’t expect that. But I’m oh, so grateful. Thank you, Jess, for being a wonderful crit partner, writing coach, and, most importantly, a most excellent friend.
But wait. It doesn’t stop there. I happen to have the privilege of working with another awesome author, who moonlights as an impressive editor, too. Meggan Connors, your support is priceless, and your hard work is so appreciated. You burn the midnight oil, you burn the candle at both ends, you… you do all sorts of other metaphors that represent someone who works their butt off. You’re amazing, my friend, and I don’t use that word lightly. This was not an easy book to edit. And I am not an easy person to be friends with. No, sir.
To Heidi… though our experience was horrible, and had a sh*tty outcome, your input and knowledge contributed to Posey and Drew’s story. I appreciate your friendship and care, even still today, and promise to make you proud someday by finding a way to be normal again.
To my handsome nerd and little monsters—who are rapidly becoming not so little—thank you so much for loving me. Even when I have writer’s block and I’m grumpy. Even when I want to be working and I can’t focus for crap. Even when I spend hours in my office watching vintage 90210 reruns and writing furiously. Even when I serve you yucky dinners like goulash or frozen pizza because I’m knee deep in edits. I appreciate your love. I value your love. I am better because of it.
To my Little Bug: there is not a day I don’t think of you, or a day I don’t long for you. From the moment the social worker brought you to my house, you were mine, and I was yours. And nobody can take that away, not even those who stole you away from me. I know you’ll find me again. Either in this life, or in the next. And dear Lord, I cannot wait to hold you in my arms again. Nothing heals the whole your absense left in our hearts.
Lastly, the foster care system in our country is grossly crippled. Children are being placed in dangerous homes, with dangerous, negligent people, and they’re falling through the cracks because of the inadequacies. Please reach out to your local foster care system, or to a charity focused on helping foster children. Give clothing and toys to children who go without. Open your home to a child in need. Help kids aging out of the system to transition to adulthood. If you are able to help, you should.
As always, thank you for reading my book!
I hope you enjoyed it. Stayed tuned for Jessa and Mac’s story next. There’s always more drama to come…
"I write because if I don't...my head will explode, and ruin the drapes."♥
Brooke writes complex, character-driven stories about kismet, reunited lovers, first love, and the kind of romance that we should all have the chance at finding. She prefers her stories laced with some humor just for fun, and enough drama to keep her readers flipping the pages, and begging for more. When Brooke isn't spinning tales, she spends her time drawing/cartooning, reading, watching movies then comparing them to books, wrangling five kids, mugging on one hubby she lovingly refers to as her "nerd", and attempting to conquer the Mount Everest of laundry that is the bane of her existence. Brooke is also an avid Autism Awareness advocate, who loves to share her experiences with anyone who will listen. Find Brooke elsewhere on the web at www.brookemoss.com
