I stand there waiting. If my Forever Parents were here they would say I was hovering which is when I stand really, really close to something. And wait.
My Forever Mom walks in. Her hair is still wet and she is wearing makeup. She never wears makeup in the morning unless she’s going somewhere. “Good morning, Ginny,” she says. “Someone is coming to visit today.”
Or if someone is coming to visit.
So I say, “I don’t like surprises.”
“Oh, it’s not a surprise,” she says. “It’s Patrice.”
Patrice understands mostly everything that I tell her. She even understands some things that I don’t say. I like her a lot but she knows how to see into my brain. I have to be careful around her and keep my mouth closed when I’m not talking.
“When will she be here?” I say.
“In about an hour,” my Forever Mom answers. “Around ten. She’s making a special weekend trip to spend a little time with you.”
Patrice has never been to the Blue House. I always went to her office but I would like to show her my room and all my Michael Jackson things and I want to tell her about Gloria and the tire tracks and the Tic Tacs. I will not tell her about my secret plan to go on Facebook or on Manicoon.com at school because she might tell my Forever Parents.
At ten Patrice’s car pulls into the driveway. Patrice gets out. She has her purple fuzzy sweater and her hair is short again. I run out to her car. I give her a hug and neither of us recoils.
“And how is my adventurous friend?” she says.
She is talking about me. She calls me my adventurous friend because she saw me every time I ran away and after what happened with Gloria at the apartment and after I tried to escape from my other Forever Homes. She says I have a lot of adventures.
So I say, “I am fine, thanks.”
I stand there looking at her.
Then Patrice says, “Why don’t you walk me inside, and we can talk with your Forever Mom for a little? Then you can show me your room. And did I hear that you’ll be going to see the tall ships tomorrow?”
I bring Patrice inside and she says hello to my Forever Mom. They talk about the baby in my Forever Mom’s belly. Patrice says to me, “Ginny, are you going to help your mom take care of Baby Wendy when she arrives?”
I don’t know what Baby Wendy will look like but I’m guessing it will wear little overalls. My Baby Doll didn’t have overalls but I wanted to get some for it. Gloria said we couldn’t afford them. Michael Jackson had a chimp named Bubbles who wore overalls just like a real baby. Because when Michael Jackson was little he wanted a chimp so bad that he asked his mother over and over and finally I’m guessing she said yes, okay, fine, Michael Jackson, you can get a chimp. Michael Jackson used to pick Bubbles up just like I used to pick up my Baby Doll. Only Bubbles got so strong that Michael Jackson didn’t have to hold him under his bottom anymore. He tucked Bubbles into bed every night but Bubbles got too big so Michael Jackson had to give him away. Because Bubbles might attack. He gave him away to a zoo and now Bubbles lives in a big cage where he can’t hurt anyone. I saw him on television.
“Ginny?”
“What?”
“Do you think you’d like to help your mom take care of Baby Wendy when she gets home from the hospital?”
“Yes,” I say.
“That’s great!” says Patrice. “You can help pick things up when your mom is holding her. And when the baby is bigger, the two of you can learn how to play together. She’s going to want to be just like you, you know. She’ll want to do all the things her big sister does. Won’t it be fun to be a big sister?”
“Mostly,” I say.
“Good,” says Patrice. “Now, do you know why I’m here, Ginny?”
“Because you want to look at my room?” I say.
“Not quite. I’m here because I want to talk with you about some things. I understand that Gloria came here to the Blue House a few days ago.”
And I say, “She came on Thursday, September 9th, while I was at school. She is completely unreliable.”
I stop talking and make sure my mouth is shut tight. There’s a lot in my brain that I don’t want Patrice to see.
Patrice looks at me in a funny way. “That’s an interesting way to put it,” she says. “Did you see her?”
I shake my head no.
“I wonder how she managed to find you,” Patrice says. “Do you know?”
I shake my head once more but then my mouth opens and I say, “She left tire tracks in the yard and wrecked our mailbox which means she was either really pissed or really loaded. Plus she made quite a scene. I didn’t see her when I got off the bus but my Forever Dad said she didn’t bring my Baby Doll.”
Patrice laughs but it is a friendly laugh. Sometimes people laugh in a way that is mean. Mostly it’s like teasing. I can’t always tell which is which. “Wow,” says Patrice. “It sounds like you’ve had an exciting time.”
I nod my head yes but she didn’t ask a question so I don’t say anything.
My Forever Mom makes a breathing sound. “Why don’t you bring Patrice to your room and show her around?” she says.
So I bring Patrice to my room and show her all my things. She looks at the pictures on my dresser and all the birthdates and holidays I wrote on my calendar. Then she says, “Did your Forever Parents tell you that Gloria isn’t coming back to the Blue House?”
“Yes,” I say. “They said the police told her she can’t.”
Patrice turns around and around in the middle of my room looking at all my things. I am in the doorway. “That’s right,” she says. “Gloria got in a lot of trouble when she came here. She tried to get in the house and really scared your Forever Mom. So your mom called your dad and the police, and when the police arrived, they had to force Gloria to leave. Your Forever Dad came right from school. And then the two of them called Social Services, and the judge got involved, and—well, let’s just say Gloria isn’t allowed to visit again. That’s why I came to talk with you. How do you feel about all this?”
I remember the judge. The judge is a lady who wears a big black cape like the teachers wear in Harry Potter. The movies, not the books. I like movies better than books because in movies the pictures move. I met the judge on June 21st at the adoption. It’s a rule that you have to do what the judge says. The judge said I couldn’t go back to Gloria’s apartment and that Gloria isn’t allowed to come find me. But the judge doesn’t know how sneaky Gloria can be. Neither does Patrice.
“Ginny?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I should have asked a clearer question. How do you feel about Gloria coming here the other day?”