To Pickles’ surprise, neither Miranda nor David appeared shocked. Instead they exchanged looks again.
“I know, Pickles,” Miranda said. “I… I found your list while I was cleaning your room. I tried to figure out what it meant, but I couldn’t. That’s why I asked you if you had anything you wanted to tell me. I didn’t understand what was wrong. The principal also told me you were having some trouble making friends, so I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m sorry,” Pickles repeated.
****
After Pickles had her X-ray, she lay on a cot with her head in a daze. She could hardly think. She knew it was late because David had called in to work and said he wasn’t coming in the next day.
“It’s going to be okay,” Miranda said for the thousandth time, massaging her head.
With the medicine chasing away the pain, Pickles was starting to believe it too. David stood silently at her side, gazing at her with half-moons under his eyes. A moment later, Dr. Carmichael came in. He was short and thin and wore round glasses. In her mind’s fog, Pickles felt as though she was looking at a giant fly in a white lab coat. She tried to blink the image away.
“You’re Pickles Bartley’s guardians?” Dr. Carmichael asked.
“Yes, we are,” said Miranda. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She’s going to be fine,” Dr. Carmichael said. “She has a minor concussion.”
A concussion? Pickles blinked. She wasn’t sure what it was.
“Poor Pickles,” Miranda said.
“Do we need to do anything special?” David asked. “I know you aren’t supposed to let concussion victims sleep.”
“In some cases, that may be true, but not with one as minor as this.” Dr. Carmichael smiled at Pickles in a kind way. “Let her sleep but gently check on her every couple of hours to ensure she’s okay. She should be fine within a few days. I’ll prescribe some mild medication to make sure she isn’t in too much pain.”
Miranda smiled while she pressed a hand to her heart. “Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much.”
Though Pickles focused, trying to figure out what was going on, everything began to fade out.
Chapter Seventeen
The next day, Pickles awoke in her bed with a pounding headache. She pushed off the sheets then climbed from the bed while gripping her ears. She heard her door squeak open. When she glanced up, David stood in the opening.
“David,” Pickles said.
“You okay?” David asked. “I was listening for you. We have your medicine, if you need it.”
“Yes, please,” Pickles said.
“It’ll be best if you take it with water,” David said. “Let’s head downstairs.”
David walked over to grab her hand. Slowly, Pickles teetered to her feet. Once she was sure she was not going to fall over, she took a step forward. It was only as she came back to reality she realized she smelled eggs and bacon. Her stomach rumbled loud enough even David heard it.
“Hungry?” David asked.
“I didn’t have dinner yesterday,” she said without thinking about it.
Heat filled her face and she clamped her mouth shut. David didn’t say anything as he led her down the stairs.
When she reached the bottom floor, she saw Miranda cooking eggs in a frying pan. When Miranda saw Pickles, her eyes brightened. On the counter next to Miranda stood a glass of water next to a fat blue pill. They were waiting for me, Pickles realized.
“Sit down. I’ll get you your pill and a plate,” David said.
Pickles nodded then sat down at the table cradling her head. A moment later David returned. A plate full of bacon and eggs steamed in one of his hands, smelling delicious even though Pickles’ felt her head might crack just like the egg in her breakfast. In his other hand, he held a glass of ice water. When David placed the plate down, the fat blue pill had been moved to the rim of her plate. David then sat beside her with a piece of buttered toast with strawberry jelly.
“So do you want the good news or bad news first?” David asked.
Suddenly, Pickles didn’t feel hungry anymore. After last night, it was no surprise she would receive bad news. They were going to send her back. She was so sick she couldn’t even feel her legs.
“When should I pack my things?” Pickles asked.
David’s eyes widened. Then he reached out and covered Pickles’ hand with his own.
“The good news first,” Miranda said quickly from behind them.
With a bang, Miranda placed the skillet on the stove and then rounded the counter. She turned on her laptop. While she did this, David smiled at Pickles reassuringly.
“The good news is way better than the bad news,” David said.
“Alright,” Miranda said, grinning. “I got it. Pickles, I have something I want to show you.”
Spinning the computer around, Miranda pointed at the screen. It took Pickles a moment to focus, but when she did, her heart thudded hard in excitement. On the computer screen were adoption papers. Her adoption papers. They were dated two weeks before.
“You’re going to adopt me?” Pickles asked.
She was so happy tears threatened to burst from her eyes.
“I’m sorry we didn’t say anything to you,” Miranda said. “It takes so long for the paperwork to be finalized and we didn’t want you to get your hopes up. Also, with how much you speak with Mrs. Beazley, I thought she might have mentioned the fact we were moving forward with the process to adopt you. It was a bad mistake to not tell you our decision, even if the papers aren’t through yet. I shouldn’t have left you in such a state of confusion, especially after me finding out I’m pregnant.”
David grinned. “You are our child, whether blood relation or not. I was the one who was uncertain at first. I wasn’t sure if I could love a child who wasn’t my own, but when I took you in to work with me, I loved you then.”
“Even though a baby is coming?” she asked. “You still want me, even though you get to have a baby of your own?”
“Every baby needs a reliable older sibling,” David said, ruffling her hair. “I give that job to you.”
Miranda grinned. “That’s right. And… we were even thinking of celebrating your adoption day as your official birthday, since you said you couldn’t remember your real one.”
Tears broke free. She wasn’t going to have to leave. She was going to get to stay with David and Miranda. On top of that, she was going to get to have a sibling too.
“Thank you so much,” she said, shaking with joy. “A family. I have a real family.”
With a grin, David leaned over and hugged her. Miranda wound around the table and hugged her too. She could have stayed with them that way for forever.
It was then she realized something.
“Um, what is the bad news?” she asked, finding it hard to imagine anything could be truly bad, if she got to keep her family.
“You broke the rules, so you’re grounded for two weeks,” David said.
“Two weeks? With just you two?” Pickles grinned. “I think I can live with that.”
Then Pickles threw back her head and laughed. The Harrises laughed with her. She knew at that moment that she was the happiest person on earth.
About the Author
S.E. Campbell had her first book published at the age of seventeen. Now, at twenty, she is still wacking away at her computer, one day at a time. When she isn’t reading or writing, she likes to dance, take karate lessons, and run. After all, you never know when you’re about to be sucked into another world.
Also by S.E. Campbell
Prologue
Osier Schmidt stood inside of a graveyard, his hand perched on his belly. There was a flask of liquor in his fat, clenched fist, and he gazed at a gravestone in front of him. It belonged to Eden Schmidt, his daughter. He gritted his teeth and then pivoted to peer at the headstone next to that. It belonged to Rebecca Schmidt, his wife.
He took another chug of his drink. It dulled the edges of h
is mind, causing everything to be a blur. The world became softer in this haze, and he preferred it that way. It wasn't like he had a job, or anything else, to be presentable for. Alone. All alone. He peered at the tombstones again. Chances were good it was entirely his fault his daughter had died.
The sound of voices in the distance caused him to turn around and look up at the rolling hills covered with gravestones. A massive crowd was forming at the top of the hill. Curiosity sparked inside of him as well as the feeling of intense loneliness. He peered down at himself and knew he was not presentable for such a gathering. Osier wore a white T-shirt stained with beer and a pair of loose shorts. Sweat ran down his back.
I'll just have a look. He sighed and headed up the hill. Halfway up, his breathing became strained. He could hardly breathe.
At the top of the hill, he spotted a beautiful brunette woman wearing all black clutching her face. Tears streamed down her cheek. He guessed she was a widow or a parent. At her side was a cold-eyed man. Osier made his way through the large crowd and stared down at a dark brown casket. There was a picture of the deceased person on a piece of board by the grave. To him, it appeared cruel to have a picture of such a young, beautiful girl displayed so prominently when everybody knew hers was a face they would never see again. But what did he know? At one time he’d thought he knew everything, but now he was well aware he didn't know anything at all. As he clenched his fists and continued to look at the picture, he sighed.
A collective gasp from the people who had gathered interrupted his thoughts. He spun around, frowning. Even the beautiful brunette woman had stopped weeping. A flash of white erupted from beyond the crowd.
What's going on? He leaned forward, curious.
A girl stepped forward, through the throng. His breath caught in his throat as he saw who stood before him, shrouded in white, with long golden hair trickling down her back.
It was Eden, the daughter he had lost twenty years ago.
Chapter One
Twenty years earlier…
Sixteen-year-old Eden stared wide-eyed at their new house. It was beautiful, though a little run-down. It was painted ivy green, the roof was black, and there was a surfboard planted in the yellowing grass. She touched a part of the fence that surrounded the house and gasped when it toppled with a loud bang.
Shoot. Mom was going to kill her. She twisted around to check and see if her mom, Rebecca, had noticed what she'd done, but she hadn't. Rebecca was struggling out of the rental truck with her fat pink purse in hand, landing on her feet with a thump before wobbling dangerously on her high heels. She walked forward, stopped on the sidewalk, and peered at the house with her hand shading her eyes.
"Goodness. It's not much, is it?"
Eden shrugged. "I don't know. I think it has its charms."
Her mother shrugged and headed back to the moving van. When she reached the back door, she stared at the handle as if it were her enemy.
"Eden, would you mind opening the door for me? I just got my nails done. I don't want to chip them."
Eden shrugged and walked forward, seized the bottom of the door, and heaved it upward with a grunt. The physical effort it took to open the door made her pant. She only weighed a hundred pounds and was shocked the door hadn't taken her with it.
"Thanks," Rebecca said, grabbing the side of the van and pulling herself inside. "I wish your father had paid for an actual moving company instead of making me do all of this myself. You know how I hate to do physical labor."
Oh, boy, Eden thought. Here we go again. Eden knew her mom was baiting her so she could go on a tangent about Dad. She had been the victim of that ploy enough, she knew not to fall for it again.
Eden entered the van, selected one of the boxes, and grabbed it with a grunt. Rebecca held a single tiny box in her arms, but she huffed as if it weighed ten thousand pounds.
"Don't you think this would be easier if your father was here?" her mom asked, once again wiggling the hook in front of Eden.
"I suppose," Eden said, "but he had to work. It can't be helped. He's the one who got us the house to begin with, right? It's not like we can complain."
Rebecca sighed. Eden stole a worried look at her before jumping off the end of the van and then walking toward the house. She approached the front screen door and stared at the cobwebs on it. Cleaning the house inside was going to be a chore.
She shrugged, reached for the door, and twisted the knob. When she stepped inside, she gasped. Even on the inside, the house was run-down, but like the outside, it had charm. The walls were pained tan, the floors were tiled with golden slabs, and pictures still hung on the wall from the previous owner. She stopped to peer at one and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The picture was of a dark-haired boy with bright blue eyes.
At the slamming sound coming from the end of the hallway, she jumped and dropped her box of antiques on the floor.
"Hello?" Eden asked, fear clenching her stomach as she stepped forward. Rats, maybe?
She entered the next room and discovered the dining room, which connected to a large kitchen. But there was a major problem. There wasn't anything there, not even a rat.
****
Eden lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Downstairs, she could hear the sounds of yelling and banging. She rolled onto her side and debated covering her ears. Yet if she did that, she wouldn’t know if someone got injured. When her parents fought, there was always a possibility of cuts or broken bones. Her dad had once had his cheekbone smashed in because Rebecca had hurled a hairdryer at his head.
"You were sleeping with the neighbor, weren't you?" her dad asked, his voice somehow still reaching her even though she was all the way upstairs.
"How dare you!" her mom screamed.
There was the sound of something splintering. Rebecca had probably thrown a plate.
"I don't need to take this," her dad yelled. "I work twelve hour shifts so that you can have your expensive outfits and your makeup. For what? To be treated like this?"
"If it wasn't for you, then I wouldn't be stuck in this place at all. Lizzy said marrying you would be a mistake." There was more thudding and then more shattering. "It's entirely your fault. The past sixteen years of my life have been a mess because of you."
"Judging by how Lizzy ended up, I wouldn't recommend following her choices. Where is she? Cold in the ground because of her own mistakes."
"Shut up. Just shut up." There were foot stomps upon the floor. "One more word. One more. I'll do something drastic. I swear I will."
"Then why don't you just leave, like you always do?"
"Maybe I will."
Something heavier was thrown this time. Eden could tell because there was a bang and then a dull thud. Eden had heard this sound enough times to know what it meant. Her dad bellowed a nonsense word downstairs.
There was the sound of pounding feet on the stairs and then trudging in the hallway. Rebecca opened her door without knocking and barged inside. Her mom's face was covered in a sheen of sweat, her makeup was smeared, and her curly red hair created a frizzy halo around her head. Eden straightened up, spun around, and seized her backpack. It had already been packed with clothes.
"Get ready," Rebecca said. "We're leaving."
"I know." Would clothes for two nights be enough this time? She hoped so. She hated it when they were gone longer than that. "I'm ready. Where are we going this time?"
Rebecca rolled her eyes, seized Eden’s hand, and began to drag her down the hall. "You are so much like your father during times like this."
Eden knew her mom didn't mean it as a compliment.
Rebecca thundered down the stairs with Eden following behind, and the two of them went into the kitchen where her dad stood on top of heaps of broken glass and the remainders of a blender. When he saw them come in, he nodded his head at her and sent Rebecca a cold smirk.
"See you tomorrow, Rebecca," her dad said. "I won't be back from work until ten o'clock, so don't wait up."
"Bite me," Rebecca said acidly.
She frowned, went out into the garage, climbed into their white car and started the ignition. Eden climbed into the seat next to her and drew her knees up to her chin.
How to Get Dirt Page 7
