My stomach soured. “I like your PJs.”
Proudly, Blue smoothed the white cotton covering her legs. “Harmony got them for me.”?2
This wasn’t about me. Talking is what Blue needed. I heard Seb loud and clear now.
Watching myself tug on a string on my own PJ pants, I softly said, “Harmony is very kind. Do you… have other kind people in your life?” My eyes lifted to observe her reaction. She was in a foster home. Showed up beaten. How far down did her rabbit hole go?
She stared off into a darker part of the backyard.
When she didn’t answer, I added, “Noma was one of the kindest to me.”
Blue looked at me. “Who is Noma?”
“Was.” I exhaled. “She was my grandmother.”
Her legs stopped swinging. As if distant in thought, Blue told me, “I had a grandmother, too, but… she was not like Harmony.”
Hesitant, I replied, “Oh yeah?” Then dared, “What is she like?”
There was a pause before she told me, “What the pastor says God wants.” Her little legs curled up to her chest. She rested a cheek on her knees to stare into the backyard. Her toes gripped the wood she was sitting on. A scared whisper escaped her. “That’s why it was my fault.”
My breath got caught on a hitch. “What was your fault?”
She switched cheeks to knees to see me. Under the glowing lights, Blue appeared like an innocent angel, yet claimed, “Me being here.”
Due to Blue’s condition when arriving, being with the Weathers’ felt like the best place for her. “You believe the person who hurt you was in the right?”
A delicate finger pushed glasses back up her nose as she continued to rest on her knees. “He knows what’s best for me.”
Swallowing dread, I asked, “The pastor?”
“Well, yes, but he’s not who I made angry with my—” Beautiful sapphire eyes welled after she stopped talking.
I didn’t want to force her to do or say anything. However, Seb wanted me to get her to talk. So, gently I encouraged, “Your…?” hoping she would finish the sentence.
Laced with a drowning shame, Blue whispered, “My sinner ways.”
Noma called me the same, but I was well aware of how she actually adored my stubbornness. I couldn’t stop the rude bark of laughter that erupted when imagining what Noma would have to say about Blue being punished for such a strength. “I’ve only known you for a short while, yet already know there’s not a malicious bone in your harmless body.”
Her resolve was absolute. “A heathen down to my bones.”
Frustrated with whoever lied to this child, I asked, “What are your ‘heathen’ crimes?”
Blue’s arms tightened around her legs to her chest as she stared at me, not speaking until finally confessing, “Saying no.”
I was very young, yet had been raised around bikers and by a woman who could keep up with them. I wasn’t sheltered and overheard conversations. I, one hundred percent, understood what ‘no’ meant for the female race. I also understood how some humans chose to take what they wanted, anyhow. That’s why I stared at the young man behind her. A sadness in his eyes that spoke of nothing but confirmation of a suspicion. Sebastian dipped his chin to me, then walked away. I think hearing more was going to alter him in a way he couldn’t overcome.
Now sitting alone with Blue—a victim of more than violent hands—I thought about her words, being a heathen down to her bones. “Blue… I may not be the right person to convince you you’re not a ‘heathen’, but I can tell you about strengths. How to keep standing back up after life—” Or a religious nutcase. “—beats you down. Do you understand?”
Nibbling on her bottom lip, Blue shook her head.
“Those bones someone had told you are cursed, the bones in your body, were not only built—grown from food, but also resilience. Heart. Soul. Surroundings, good and bad, have made you who you are, Blue.” I laid a hand on my aching chest. “A courageous young woman who has beautiful bones.”
The angelic one actually offered a slight smile. “He’s right.”
Thinking of some asshole who had convinced Blue of bullshit, I growled, “Who?”
Her smile grew. “Sebastian.”
