“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 part 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.
What am I going to do here for two more years without him?
I don’t want to think about it. He keeps telling me Santa Barbara isn’t that far. He’s planning on visiting as much as he can. I guess we’ll see. I have four and a half more months to spend with him before he leaves me. We’ll have to make the most of it. As soon as school gets out, we’ll have all day, every day to hang out.
“What are you thinking about over there, beautiful?”
Blake’s voice cuts through the uncertainty and doubt starting to cloud my brain. I want to tell him the truth, but I know it’s not the best idea. I don’t want to seem needy or clingy, and telling him I was thinking about life without him will sure make me sound that way.
“Nothing. I guess I spaced out for a minute,” I lie as the school parking lot comes into view.
Walking in the front doors, side by side as we have for a while now, Blake reaches over and grabs my hand, pulling me in close. This is a first. He’s never held my hand before, and I stiffen for a moment. In fact, I’m not sure he’s ever touched me before this very moment, and I like the way his hand feels. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. He lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his body. Even better.
“It’s going to be fine, Charlie. I promise,” he whispers in my ear before kissing me on the top of my head and walking away.
I spend the rest of the day trying to figure out what he meant. My mind runs wild, from one end of the spectrum to the other. Does he have feelings for me? He couldn’t possibly. I’m too young for him. He’s leaving. He pities me and is just trying to be nice. He’s my friend, that’s all. Does he want to be more? He’ll be off to college in a few months, and he’s not going to wait for me. That would be stupid.
I struggle through a history test, my concentration completely lost. By the time I’m headed back to Blake’s car, my head feels like it’s about to explode. I need to let it go. Whatever happens, will happen. If I’ve learned anything in my short sixteen years, it’s you cannot control the future. The only thing within your control are your choices in life.
Just like when you jump in puddles, every choice you make creates a ripple, altering your future. You can choose to live an adventurous life by stomping around, creating a series of tiny waves that ebb and flow. Or, you can choose to jump over the puddle. No ripples, no waves. You have complete control. Choose your path wisely.
KEEP READING
Acknowledgments
Thank you so much for reading Gabby & Quinn’s story. I hope you enjoyed the journey they took as friends and lovers as much as I enjoyed writing it.
It’s been a while since I’ve written an acknowledgement in one of my books. Not because I’m ungrateful, but because by the time I get to this part I’m already emotional about letting go of my characters, about leaving their story behind and moving onto the next. But I have a feeling this may not be the last we hear of Gabby and Quinn or Nathan and Jade. Maybe that’s why this feels a little easier and less emotional to write.
First and foremost, I need to thank my family. My mom, dad and sisters. I’m fairly certain they don’t “get” what I do or why I do it. They don’t understand why I’d rather stay home and work than hang out and do fun things some times. They don’t understand why I enjoy working long days and how sitting in front of a computer for hours on end makes me smile.
The thing is… they don’t need to. Because they support me regardless. As long as I’m happy, they’re happy for me. And it’s that unconditional support that helps drive me to keep going some days. To not give up when my characters don’t want to cooperate, when a story takes a sharp left turn or I start to questions everything.
Their support keeps me from wanting to delete all my words and helps me through all my struggles.
My biggest supporters, though, are my husband and son. They see first hand how hard I work. They distract me when I need it (and when I don’t), pull me out of my office after hours of work and make me eat. My husband is my own personal “Google” assistant. I can be trying to think of one word for hours and not come up with it - if I ask him, he can tell me exactly the word I’ve been trying to think of in seconds. Or, even better, provide me with a word I like even more.
Next, to my Brownell Book Lovers… You ladies are amazing. You’re encouraging and supportive. You’re the best group of friends and fans on the internet.
To my readers… I’d be nothing without you. An author is nothing without people who want to read their work. We write for ourselves. We create stories that our souls tell us need to be told. But if no one is there to read them? We are not nearly as successful. So thank you for taking a chance on me. On my books. On the stories that have kept me awake at night until I’ve put pen to paper and fleshed out all the details. YOU are the reason I do this. My passion for writing may have been the reason I started in this business, but YOU are the reason I’ve stayed and pressed on.
Lastly, to those that are no longer with us. And this is the part where I start crying.
We’ve lost readers, bloggers, and authors over the years. Important members of the Indie Community. People whose love for the written word ran deep. They will live on in our heart as we traverse this journey, gone but never forgotten.
I’ve also personally lost a number of people since starting this journey. My maternal grandparents were my biggest supporters in this endeavor. My grandmother was an avid reader. She read everything from romance novels to historical fiction. Her house had it’s own library and it was jam packed. But that’s not where my books ended up. They were placed on top of the mantel, right next to family photos and other memories she was proud of . Displayed for all to see. A conversation piece with her girlfriends, also avid readers, who’d then want a copy for themselves.
My grandmother was my best friend. My confidant. The one person I knew I could tell anything. And when she was disappointed in me, she would scold me, calling me by my middle name and sha
king her finger at me, before she would pull me into her arms and tell me how much she loved me and how I was her favorite. I was her first grandchild, the one that gave her the title of grandmother. The one who brought a new level of joy to her life. And she brought so much joy to mine.
And now that my tears are flowing, I should wrap this up. If you are reading this, you are part of the reason I get up every day, drag my but to my day job, and then come home and write until I can’t stare at my computer any more. THANK YOU. For being a part of this journey. For reading this book. For supporting authors and taking this wild ride with us.
XOXO
Rachael
For All The Wrong Reasons Page 21
