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“How am I weird?”
“Because you have a motorcycle with a red seat and you have a mean nickname, but you’re not mean.”
“Fair enough.”
Poppy walked over and took her picture down from the wall. She brought it over to Ravage and told him, “This is my house.”
“Not bad.” He looked at the picture and asked, “Is this where you live?”
“No. It’s a pretend house, like Ms. Emery’s.”
“I see.” He studied it a moment longer, then said, “I like it.”
“I have a pool.”
“I see that.”
“And a dog.”
“That’s a big dog.”
“He’s protecting the house.” She pointed over to mine and smiled. “Ms. Emery has one, too. I told her she needed one, but she won’t need it if you’re there.”
“No. She wouldn’t.”
Poppy seemed to approve of his answer, because she didn’t say anything more. She simply took her picture and carried it back to the corner, returning it to its place on the wall next to mine. She turned around and sounded disappointed when she announced, “Clara will be here soon.”
“Yes, should be any minute now.”
She nodded and started gathering her things. Ravage stood to give her room, and he seemed equally disappointed when she started to slip on her backpack. She looked him up and down, then asked, “Are you coming back?”
“I can.”
“Good. I’m here on Tuesdays after school.”
And just like that, I felt something shift inside me. Poppy had always been standoffish when it came to men. This wasn’t something I’d seen firsthand. I’d only heard about it from the social worker and her foster mom, Clara. She wouldn’t even speak to her foster father for the first two months she lived there.
It was the same way with male teachers, counselors, and even her pediatrician. She eventually came around, but it always took time. It wasn’t like that with Ravage. She was herself, and there was no holding back. That meant something. I just wasn’t sure what.
“Don’t be late.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She nodded, and when Clara arrived, Poppy took her things and met her at the door. Clara seemed nervous when she asked, “Did everything go okay?”
“More than okay. She did great.”
“Good.” Her eyes skirted over to Ravage. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“This is my friend, Ravage.” I didn’t usually have visitors during sessions, so I felt the need to explain, “He brought me some coffee.”
“He likes her,” Poppy announced.
“I see.” Clara grinned. “We’ll get out of your way.”
“Thanks, Clara. I’ll see you guys next week.”
“Sounds good.”
