She dropped her hands, turning back to the stove as she began to hum.
I hadn’t wanted to eat any of those homemade meals yet. I couldn’t seem to muster up the will to consume them and lose that piece of Noma I had with me.
I placed the casserole on potholders in the center of the table, noting it really was heavy, even if it wasn’t too much for Harmony to carry. When I took my seat, almost everyone had already taken their spots at the table. Sarah and Caleb arrived last, as they usually did.
Dale’s phone began ringing, and he swiped across the surface to answer as Harmony took her seat at the opposite end of the table, gesturing for us to begin filling our plates. She liked to let us choose our own portion sizes and trusted us to save enough for everyone in the room. Because many of these kids have starved at one time or another, they struggled with self-restraint. Harmony seemed to be teaching us to trust in return, to know there would always be enough for everyone in this house, and there was no reason to panic.
But there was the opposite side of that as well, because I could tell some of the foster siblings had adverse reactions to food, such as gluttony, or were scared to fill their plates for fear of punishment. Caleb especially seemed to struggle with eating enough and being too timid to reach for adequate amounts. Seb would sometimes overeat, and I heard him get sick once or twice after a meal. Harmony noticed it all, and I think she strived to find balance for every one of us in this room.
“Hi, Kristen— … I see,” Dale replied, his voice lowering. His gaze met Harmony’s with a sad smile. “Of course. We have room. She can bunk with Sarah.”
Silence followed as we all realized someone new was arriving soon.
“Tonight? … Totally understand. … Yes. … We’ll be ready.”
Once off the phone, Dale paused to take a deep breath and stare across the table at his wife. A silent communication was taking place. It would’ve been eerie had I not already trusted these folks.
He broke the stare to view each one of us, who were all staring ourselves, then back to her.
Whatever that meant, he received a nod of acceptance from Harmony.
Dale sat up straight while placing his palms on the table, then spoke to us all. “As you may have gathered, this home specializes in severe cases.”
There was a heavy silence that was thick. Layered with crimes and broken hearts, it revealed truths that all of us had tried to escape.
After letting that truth sink into each spirit around the table, that now felt more like an altar, Dale continued. “Some scars can be seen. Some can be heard. And some scars are buried so deep they can’t be found.”
When none of these descriptions felt as if they pertained to me, I peered down. Am I taking a place at this special home that belongs to a kid more in need?
Dale continued. “Other scars are still to come. Some kids are under immediate threat from which they must keep running.”
Ears ringing, my head slowly lifted. Holy. Fuck. He knows some truth about me.
Then I thought of where my room was. In the attic. Was that on purpose? To hide me if needed?
As I studied this man, I did my best not to gawk. I couldn’t even be sure I succeeded, but something shifted inside me. The inclination that someone—anyone—had an iota of a clue of what I was going through had my lungs filling with some security I didn’t even know I longed for.
Deep inhale…
As fast as that awareness came, I let it drift away to focus on what else was coming. This whole house was full of those in need. One more on the way.
“That being said—” We all were hanging on every syllable Dale spoke. “—tonight’s arrival also needs special care. She is extremely afraid of hospitals.” With sadness, he shrugged. “Maybe been in one too many times.” He blew out a breath that announced those who fucked with kids were on his shit list. “She has been cleared by a paramedic but is in rough shape. Unfortunately, you guys know that drill. Easy on the staring and be welcoming.”
Heads nodded. I think I even heard hearts pound with hospital reminders of our own. An image of Noma standing at the foot of my hospital bed as we silently vowed ‘In blood and heart’ hung in my mind until, what felt like only minutes later, headlights cast soft beams inside the dining room. Since it was only dusk, it wasn’t dark enough to blind us with their light.
Harmony rose to her feet, nibbling on her bottom lip. Her gaze cut to the front bay window.
Dale was already out of his chair and headed to her. He reached for his wife’s hand and she took it, leaving the dining area to greet the newest arrival.
No one had yet to take another bite, we shared glances, maybe wishing this new girl didn’t have to arrive with such sad circumstances. My gut twisted when thinking there weren’t any good reasons to be brought to a foster home.
Dale opened the door before the social worker had a chance to knock. From the dining table, we all had a view of the front door. When it opened, I immediately saw Kristen. She glanced in my direction and tried to soften her expression, but didn’t smile.
I didn’t have to wonder why.
When my gaze slid over the girl who stood beside her, I had my answer. Since it was summer, it was too warm for a coat, or we might have all missed the mottled bruises on her arms, fading in various shades from blue to green to yellow. Blood stained the front of her lavender-colored dress in several dark crimson splatters. She kept her gaze averted. White-blonde hair had fallen over the petite girl’s face, but I somehow sensed what she hid was even worse than the bruises we could see.
She barely had anything with her. Only a single tattered duffel bag that was coming apart at the seams. It didn’t appear to hold much as she clutched at the strap. Kristen held a backpack and I could tell it was new, most likely stuffed with items from her back seat that would help provide what the girl needed.
