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Lucas being an easy target as he never fought back or snitched.
The older she became, the more difficult it was to commandeer other kid’s lunchboxes. Lucky for her, she could stash food from Bernadette’s kitchen into her backpack, having plenty to eat the next day.
Birdie tensed, unable to control the visceral reaction to the memories.
She was a grown woman. She could do this.
Yanking on the door handle, she catapulted from the seat, slammed the door behind her, and began the long trek to that magical entrance to the house.
Just as her hands wrapped around the doorknob, a voice rounding the corner, said, “Well, lookie there at who has come to see me.”
Some of the tension left her shoulders as she took in a beaming Bernadette. Her skin the same burnt caramel color, her face a bit older, and with a few more lines. Thick braids were deftly arranged into an intricate crown, her hair more gray than black. She was a little thicker in the waist, but that was a good thing as Birdie remembered her being too skinny.
“Miss Bernadette,” she said, grasping the strap to her purse and hoping her eyes conveyed the warmth in her chest from seeing this saving grace of a woman.
Bernadette dropped the empty sweetgrass basket and opened her arms to hug Birdie. A hug she felt all the way to the center of her bones. One free of judgment, criticism, and grudges.
A deep well of gratitude and tears pooled in Birdie’s eyes. So very grateful for her old friend’s welcoming embrace.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Bernadette said, cupping her face with both hands. “Why don’t you come inside for some tea and tell me all about what’s been going on with your sweet self?”
Heaving a sigh of relief, she dutifully walked into the kitchen behind Bernadette, closing her eyes as she breathed in the nostalgic aromas: the herbs drying in the corner, freshly baked bread waiting to be sliced on a cutting board by the sink, and what looked to be okra soup simmering on the stove.
Bernadette moved into hostess mode, pulling cups from the pine cabinet and turning on the stove to heat the teakettle. Plucking a wooden spoon from a round holder she began to stir the contents in the cast iron Dutch oven that looked to date back to the post WWII era.
Birdie paused. There was one thing that was vastly different than she remembered.
Silence.
Rare for a home typically full of overly rambunctious children. On a Sunday no less.
There should be a living room full of kids, who had just changed out of their Sunday best and into play clothes so they could spend the day playing amongst the dunes, hunting for seashells, and racing against the tides.
“No children?” Birdie asked, rubbing her upper arms.
Bernadette paused with hunched shoulders as she poured tea leaves into one cup and what looked like a mixture of large dried leaves and roots into another.
“Not for any extended period of time these days. I only keep children for a week at most. Usually when they’re waiting to be handed over to family members assigned as guardians by the court or to another foster family.
Bernadette pulled out her chair, so Birdie did the same.
Bernadette kept her eyes on the table. “I take it Lucas didn’t tell you about Rachel?” she asked.
Concern etched itself onto Birdie’s face.
“No, but to be honest, we’ve spent very little time together.”
Birdie remembered the high-energy little girl missing her two front teeth and how Grant and Lucas doted on her.
Bernadette’s eyes grew sad. “We lost her last year,” she said, clearly heartbroken. “She began spending time with some of the wilder kids, sneaking out at night to hang out with them and getting into trouble.”
She pulled herself from her seat as the teakettle went off. “One night, she snuck out of the house to go joy-riding. There was an accident. Rachel was thrown from the car.”
Birdie held her hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry. Lucas didn’t have time to share everything that has happened since I’ve been gone.”
Bernadette smiled, filling the cups with hot water. “No doubt focusing on little Mia.”
Birdie’s eyes opened wide. “You… know about Mia?”
