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"No. I mean, I've wondered, but I didn't ask any questions about it."
"Why not?" Star demanded.
"I just didn't. It never occurred to me that I could be adopted. I look a little like my mother. We sort of have the same nose and mouth."
"Still, you could have asked about the pictures. What kind of parents wouldn't have pictures," Jade pursued.
"I don't like asking my mother questions," I admitted. "She doesn't like me to. She grew up believing children should be seen and not heard and that's how she wants me to be."
"You're not a child," Jade said.
"Hardly," Star added with a laugh. "One look at her will tell you that."
"I'm not just talking about her bosom," Jade snapped. "Some girls physically mature faster, but that doesn't make them grown-ups."
"I was mature very early," I admitted. Maybe I wanted to stop their bickering or maybe I just wanted to get my story out.
"How early?" Misty asked leaning toward me. "I mean, I'm still waiting."
Star and Jade laughed. Doctor Marlowe held her lips still, but her eyes filled with a twinkle of amusement.
"I was still in the fourth grade when . . . when I started to develop."
"Fourth grade?" Star whistled. "You were wearing a bra in the fourth grade?"
"Not exactly. My mother didn't take me to buy a bra until I was in the sixth grade," I said.
"Well, what did you wear before then?" Star asked. "She made me wear a sports bra, a size or so too small so it flattened me somewhat. It was made out of spandex and it felt like a straitjacket. It was really more for exercise, but she made me wear it all day. When I took it off at night, my chest was always sunburn red. I complained, but she said I had to do it because a bra for a girl my age would only emphasize my freakish appearance."
"Is that what she called it?" Jade said with a scowl. "Freakish?"
I nodded.
"I'd like to get a little more freakish myself then," Misty said. "I guess I'm going to end up having implants when I'm in my twenties."
"You shouldn't put so much emphasis on it just because men do," Jade said with fire in her eyes.
Misty gave her one of her small shrugs and turned back to me.
"What did your father say about it?" she asked.
"He didn't say anything to my mother right away. At least, not in front of me," I added. "My mother has always been more in charge when it came to matters concerning me, matters my father called 'girl stuff.' My father was always very busy. He's a stockbroker and he was out of the house early in the morning, except for weekends, of course."
"What's he look like?" Jade asked. "I mean, does he look like he could really be your father? Any resemblances?"
"I guess not. He's tall, six feet three and he's always been thin, no matter how much he ate or drank. He has very long hands. They're almost twice the size of mine, maybe three times, and his fingers . . ."
"What?" Misty asked.
I laughed.
"He used to play this game with me, itsy-bitsy spider."
"Huh?" Misty said.
"Don't you know it? You put the tips of your fingers together and you go, 'The itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and dried up all the rain. And the itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the spout again,' " I recited and demonstrated,
remembering. I guess I had a silly smile on my face. They all looked like they were going to break into hysterics at any moment.
