Bringing Rosie Home

by Loree Lough

  “One last thing, and then I’m gonna head upstairs.”

  “Okay,” she said, drawing out the word.

  “I was talking to Joe the other day...” The older man lived on the other side of Tina’s house.

  “How’s he doing since his bypass? I haven’t seen him in the yard.”

  “He seemed fine. Back to fishing and puttering in his vegetable garden. But anyway, he said something about feral cats living at the back of his lot. Thought we oughta keep an eye out, make sure Rosie knows not to touch them.”

  “Good idea. We wouldn’t want her coming down with cat scratch fever or anything.”

  “Definitely not. Well, g’night, Rena.”

  “Sleep well.”

  “You coming upstairs soon?”

  She held up the book she’d been reading. “One more chapter...”

  “Okay then. See you in the morning.”

  * * *

  WHILE THE GUIDANCE counselor gave Rosie a tour of the school, the principal sat behind her desk, listening intently as Rena spelled out the reasons why her daughter had neither a student transcript nor an immunization record.

  “We do know that she was homeschooled,” Rena offered. “Rosie hasn’t shared much else about her time in Chicago, though.”

  “I can’t even imagine what you and your husband have been through these past few years. Rosie, too,” Mrs. Kingston said. “My heart just aches for your family.”

  Rena didn’t want the woman’s pity. She only needed the promise that her daughter would be well taken care of here at Sentinal.

  Kingston scribbled something on a notepad. “I’m sure you’ve already scheduled a doctor’s visit to see which shots she may have been given and which she might need. While you see to those details, we’ll take care of testing to see which grade level will be most comfortable for her.” She picked up the pen again and used the capped end to shove her eyeglasses higher on her nose. “Speaking of doctors, I presume Rosie’s seeing a therapist?”

  “Yes. Dr. Danes. Once a week. The visits will continue until he feels she doesn’t need them anymore.”

  Kingston added that to her list. “Good to know. If you’ll leave me his contact information, I’ll pass it to Ms. Gilmore, just in case she needs to discuss anything with him. I’ll be honest with you, Rena—we’ve never dealt with a situation like Rosie’s before. But as long as we all work as a team, I see no reason to expect problems.”

  Rena nodded. She only hoped the principal was right.

  Kingston slid a crisp new file folder from the cabinet behind her. She printed VanMeter, Rosalie on its tab then tucked in the documents Rena had provided, along with the enrollment paperwork.

  “We can give her a few tests today, if you have time, to assure proper placement.”

  “That’ll be fine.” One less thing to contend with later.

  A soft knock interrupted the meeting.

  “Are we disrupting anything?” asked the guidance counselor.

  “Not at all. Come right in.” Kingston stood and waved Ms. Gilmore and Rosie into the office. “We were just discussing the tests that will help us determine which class Rosie should be in.”

  “Tests?” Rosie sounded as alarmed as she looked. “Today?”

  “It’s no big deal, sweetie,” the counselor said. “And it won’t take a long time, either.” She winked. “We want to make sure you get the very best teacher, you know?”

  Rosie clasped and unclasped her hands. Had she spent enough time with Rena to pick up the nervous habit, or was it an inherited trait? Fortunately, they had decades to find the answer to that one.

  “So what do you think of our school, Rosie?” Kingston asked.

  She met the principal’s eyes. “It’s very nice. I like the pictures on the walls. And the way you painted the hallways such bright colors.” She paused, stared at her fisted hands and added, “The floors are very clean and shiny, too, and I didn’t see a single fingerprint on the silver things in the cafeteria. My other mother was very fussy about things like that.”

  If she was unsettled by Rosie’s mention of Barbara, Kingston didn’t show it.

  “My, you’re quite an observant girl, and very complimentary, too.” Opening the top drawer of the filing cabinet beside her desk, the principal pulled forms from several folders and handed them to the counselor. “Might be best to let her fill these out in one of the empty classrooms, so she won’t be distracted by the custodian or the painting crew in the halls.”

  Gilmore held out her hand and waited for Rosie to take it. “I’ll get you settled,” she said, leading her from the office, “and then I’ll scour that big fridge in the cafeteria, see if I can’t scare up a Rosie-sized carton of juice.”

  Halfway to the door, Rosie tugged her hand free and hurried to Rena’s side. “Can you sit with me while I take the tests, Mom?”

  Rena smiled, thrilled by the invitation. But the principal answered in her stead. “How about if we all meet up afterward,” she suggested. “I want to show your mom around. I’m sure she’d love to see where you’ll be spending your days.”

  Seemingly unfazed by the woman’s smile, a cross between friendly and authoritative, Rosie held her ground.

  Rena cupped her daughter’s chin. “I’ll be right outside the classroom door. I promise.”

  If she’d blinked, Rena never would have seen the flicker of doubt in her little girl’s eyes. It hurt far more than she cared to admit, but this was the price she had to pay for looking away when Rosie had needed her most. Time and patience, she reminded herself, along with consistency, would prove her reliability. Until then, she’d just have to deal with the ache of knowing that her only child didn’t trust her.

  Rena gave in to a maternal urge and hugged her, kissed her cheek. “You’re so smart,” she said, holding her at arm’s length. “I just know that when you're finished, you're going to tell me how easy those tests were!”

  During her tour of the school, Rena asked the questions Rosie had posed to her over the past few weeks.

  “Rosie has shown some interest in playing an instrument,” she said as they walked among music stands and folding chairs. “What’s the best way to find out which one she’d most enjoy?”

  “Mr. Greene will evaluate her after school starts. He’s great with the kids. I’m always amazed at the talent he manages to cultivate, with the band and the orchestra, and the chorus, too. You might want to send him an email and set up a time to discuss it with him. I’ll send you home with a list of contact info for the teachers.”

  Rena nodded. “That would be great. What about sports? Do Sentinal students compete with other schools in athletic events?”

  “No, but we encourage physical activity, not only through our PE program, but in rallies and races and on the playground. She’ll no doubt enjoy our media and arts programs, too, but all that will be explained in the new student brochure I’ll send you home with.”

  “Sounds good.” Rena hesitated. “This might seem like a silly question, but what kind of clothes do the kids wear? Rosie didn’t come home to us with many outfits.”

  “Oh, we don’t have a lot of rules. No open-toed shoes, for obvious reasons. No hats indoors. No T-shirts that bear offensive language or pictures. Other than that, anything that’s age-appropriate should be just fine.”

  “Good to know. Her grandmother and I—the one who lives next door—will take her shopping.”

  “Sounds like fun.” Kingston’s pace slowed as she said, “Since Rosie was homeschooled, you might want to prepare her for sitting at a desk. Waiting to be recognized before talking in class. Paying attention to her teachers despite the distraction of fifteen or twenty other kids wriggling in their seats.” She stopped walking and lay a motherly hand on Rena’s wrist. “I hope we haven’t overwhelmed you.” She gave her wrist a slight squeeze. “If you have any
questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  They entered the teachers’ lounge, where the principal offered Rena a cold bottle of water.

  “I have a few phone calls to make,” she said, “but you’re welcome to wait here for Rosie to finish up.”

  “I’d just as soon wait outside the classroom if that’s all right.” Because it was what she’d promised, and Rena didn’t want to let Rosie down.

  “Of course. Stop by the office on your way out. I’ll have everything ready and waiting for you. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  Rena thanked her, then made her way back down the hall. Earlier, the principal had paused outside the fifth grade classrooms. Rosie sat in one of them, pencil poised and brow furrowed as she concentrated on a column of math problems. Now, as Rena peered through the rectangular window, Rosie seemed to sense her presence. She looked up and sent Rena a tiny grin and a wave.

  Half an hour later, the door opened. The counselor, carrying the test papers, led the way into the hall.

  “You were right, Ms. Gilmore,” Rosie told her. “Those tests were pretty easy!”

  “And you completed them in record time!” The young woman met Rena’s eyes. “I’ll call you first thing tomorrow with the results.”

  As promised, they stopped by the office on their way to the parking lot. She’d half expected a thick packet of information, so the thin envelope was a pleasant surprise.

  “Hey, Mom?” Rosie asked as she did up her seat belt.

  Rena met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Yes?”

  “Will I be bringing my lunch, or buying it in the cafeteria?”

  “A little of both, I expect. Maybe we’ll find a menu in this envelope. You can buy on days they’re serving things you like, and the rest of the time—”

  “You’ll pack me a lunchbox?”

  “You bet.”

  “I’ve never had my own lunchbox before. Or a pencil case. Or a book bag. Or an umbrella. I’ll need all those things for my first day, right?”

  “And then some. I have a feeling your teacher will send home a supply list.”

  Rosie’s brow furrowed slightly as she processed everything.

  “All buckled up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good girl.” Rena started the car. “Tomorrow, Grandma and I will take you shopping again.”

  “Do I get to pick whatever I want?”

  Rena glanced in the rearview again. Rosie looked every bit as incredulous as she sounded, a sign that Barbara had likely been a tough taskmaster.

  “Of course! They’ll be your clothes, after all. And lucky us, we’re getting to the stores before the last-minute rush, so the selection should be good.”

  They were pulling into the driveway when Rosie said, “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will I have to wear dresses to school?”

  “Absolutely not. I pass by the school every few days, on my way to the post office and the bank. I’ve seen plenty of kids getting on and off their buses. They wear jeans and sweatpants, T-shirts...” She pulled into the garage. “Hey, I have an idea. How about if tonight, after supper, you and Dad and I get on the computer and browse the internet? That’ll give us an idea what to look for tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I like that idea.” She unbuckled her seat belt and bounded from the back seat. “Will we get my school supplies tomorrow, too?”

  “As many as we can. We won’t have a full list until we find out which teacher you’ll have, remember...”

  “Oh, right.” Rosie shoved open the door between the garage and the kitchen. “I wish we could go today.”

  “You promised to help Grandma with her birthday cake, remember?”

  “Oh, right,” she said again.

  Bless her heart, Rena thought, torn between disappointing her grandmother and disappointing herself. After hanging her purse on the hook near the door, Rena opened the bottom drawer of her kitchen desk and withdrew a notepad and pen.

  “How about we start a list of all the things you’ll want to buy tomorrow. You can write them down while I’m getting supper started.”

  Hopping onto a stool, Rosie printed Things to Buy for School across the top, then proceeded to fill the entire page within minutes, with very little input from Rena.

  Rosie looked so content sitting there, muttering as she hunched over her list. Rena added red potatoes and onions to the roasting pan, picturing Grant sitting beside their girl, suggesting additional things she might need. The happy domestic image nearly brought tears to her eyes.

  “Want to hear my list again?”

  “I’d love to.” She sprinkled spices on the roast as Rosie recited, “Socks, underwear, sneakers, sweatshirts...” She paused, tapping the pen on her chin. “Are you going to make me wear undershirts when it gets cold out?”

  “Yes, I will. Best way to stay warm is to keep your core nice and toasty.”

  “Yeah. That makes sense.” She continued reading. “Bathing suit, sandals, a fall jacket and a winter coat, snow pants, a hat and mittens, and boots, too...” She paused again. “Do you think the stores will have cold weather stuff out yet?”

  “I’m not sure. If they don’t, we’ll just have to go shopping again.”

  “That makes sense, too.”

  Rena wished Grant could see and hear her, making plans to fill her dresser and closet. Knowing him, he’d get teary-eyed.

  The thought brought to mind what had happened last night. It had been the first time she’d seen him cry. Oh, he’d welled up from time to time: at his dad’s funeral; again when his grandfather passed. If she’d expected Grant to react that way, Rena never would have brought up the whole forgiveness issue. Better to continue living without it than put him through that, ever again. Still, it felt good that he trusted her enough to open up. If only she could hold him in her arms like that every night for the rest of their lives! Without the tears, of course.

  The family room clock chimed three times. She’d promised to send Rosie to Tina’s no later than 3:30.

  “Would you like to take your list to Grandma’s, show her all the things we’re going to buy tomorrow?”

  “She might get scared of it!”

  “Scared?” Rena laughed. “Why?”

  “Because it’s going to take a long, long time to get all that stuff, and you know how fast Grandma gets tired.”

  “We’ll walk slowly, and take plenty of breaks.”

  “Like...for ice cream?”

  Rena hugged her from behind. “Yes. Like for ice cream.” She kissed the top of Rosie’s head. “Now, why don’t you go upstairs and change into shorts and a T-shirt. And flip-flops. You don’t want to get flour and sugar all over your pretty sundress.”

  Rosie hopped down from the stool and spun in a slow circle, delighting in the way the skirt billowed out. “It looks like an umbrella, doesn’t it, Mom?”

  “Yes, it sort of does.”

  “Why do they call it a sundress?”

  “I suppose because we wear them in warm, sunny weather.”

  “Yeah, makes sense.”

  It seemed to Rena that a lot of things were beginning to make sense for Rosie. And their ordinary, everyday chatter gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, her little girl was beginning to trust her again.

  “You’d better scoot. The sooner you get over there, the sooner you’ll get the baking done.”

  “And the sooner I’ll get a chocolate chip cookie.”

  “Exactly.”

  Rena heard the girl’s footsteps, racing back and forth above the kitchen as she searched for a more casual outfit. And unless she was mistaken, Rosie was singing to herself, too.

  Except for that quick mention in the principal’s office, she hadn’t said ‘my other mother’ in days, but Rena wasn’t fooling herself. Dr. Danes's words echoed in h
er head: “Sooner or later, everything she has repressed will surface. Could be a little at a time. Could be all at once. Get ready. It might not be pretty.”

  But what if the doctor was mistaken? What if, instead of needing to vent about her former life, Rosie would rather file it away, deep in her memory, and simply accept that she was where she belonged, surrounded by people who’d love and protect her, always?

  She slid the pot roast into the oven, set it to turn on in an hour. After tidying up, Rena flapped a linen cloth over the dining room table and, taking the good dishes from the china closet, arranged four place settings. Silver candlesticks completed the scene. Grant, Rosie and Tina would think it was all part of the birthday festivities. But as they talked about Rosie’s new school, Grant’s day at the office, tomorrow’s shopping trip and the weather, Rena could smile at the truth: it was her way of celebrating the warming relationship between her and Rosie.

  Rosie skipped into the room, looking adorable in sparkly pink flip-flops and a lavender shorts set. “Wow,” she said, looking at the table, “is this supposed to be a surprise for Grandma?”

  “Well, it is her birthday...”

  She held a brush in one hand and purple elastic bands in the other. “Will you put braids in my hair?”

  “You bet I will.”

  Rosie perched on the leather ottoman in the family room, and Rena knelt behind her, thrilled by what others might consider a mundane motherly duty. When she finished, she returned Rosie’s brush. “I might have some purple ribbon in my sewing box. Want me to tie bows at the ends of your braids?”

  “Sure. Do you still keep the basket in the laundry room, on the shelf above the washer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bummer. I was going to get it for you, but it’s too high for me to reach.” She took in a deep breath, let it out slowly and, shoulders lifted, said “Guess you’ll just have to get it yourself.”

  “You put your brush away and I’ll get the ribbon,” Rena said. “Meet you in the kitchen in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  Giggling, Rosie headed for the stairs, repeating Rena’s words with each step. “Two shakes of a lamb’s tail, two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Silliest thing I ever heard. Two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”