Page 118
ME:Will do.
I got off the couch and went to the kitchen. I placed the cooled cookies into the Tupperware container with the rest, threw my phone in my purse, grabbed my key fob and headed for my car. It was time to have a conversation with my brother.
“Please tell me you’re not going to do another interview with that asshole,” Jase said as he went in for his fifth cookie.
“Couldn’t you come up with another word to describe the man?” Bonnie asked patiently.
“No.” Jase ate half the cookie with one bite. “These are really good, Angel.”
“Glad you like them.”
“I’m going to go pick up the twins. Jase, be nice while I’m gone.” Bonnie kissed the top of Jase’s head as she passed him and squeezed my shoulder as she headed out the door.
“I’m always nice,” Jase grumbled. He took a long sip of milk. The proper beverage to have with chocolate chip cookies.
“You are,” I agreed.
He set down the milk. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
I shook my head. “Not really.”
“Are you sure about adopting Luzia? That’s a big step. Your life is complicated.”
“You sound like Mom.”
“Mom’s smart.” He picked up another cookie and put it on his plate. “I just want to make sure you’re not doing this as a knee jerk reaction to what you remembered.” He put his hand over mine. “Are you, Angel? Are you adopting her because you remember what it was like being locked up in a cage in that orphanage?”
I turned my hand over and clasped my hand with his. “I was thinking of adopting her the first time I saw her in a video. To tell you the truth, with my money, and my lifestyle, I’ve been thinking about adopting a child for a couple of years now.”
I smiled at Jase’s surprised expression.
“You have?”
“Of course I have. I grew up in a house of adopted children. I have the means and the time to give an adopted child a good life. It never really occurred to me to adopt a child from Brazil. Not until I saw the video that Sister Beatriz sent me. Then I saw Luzia.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Did you tell Kit? Who did you tell? Mom? You couldn’t have told Mom, otherwise she wouldn’t be concerned.”
“Down, boy. I've been thinking about it and researching it. I didn't tell anyone. Until I was sure I was going to do it, I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“And your memories?” he asked softly. He pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. “What about those?”
“God, Jase. I remember having to eat out of something like a dog bowl. I remember having to fight others for the food and losing. I remember…”
“What, Angel?”
“I remember my diaper being soiled. I stank.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Not that I remember. What else?”
“I remember somebody throwing me and a girl spitting on me. I remember trying to hide under my blanket.”
“What else?”
“There was so much noise. So much yelling. The grown-ups were the worst. They would pinch you, or squeeze you, or twist your arms.”
