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I settle my boiling blood so I can say, “Look at me,” gently.
Rae sits up from where she’s been curled against me, and even though I don’t really have the strength to hold her with one arm anymore, I make it happen so I can brush at her hair and wet cheeks with my other hand.
“You are not ugly and you are not a freak.”
I notice how she glances at my hand when I withdraw it so I can resume supporting her with it. She lifts one of her own hands and studies it with a miserable look on her face.
My heart cracks.
I force firmer words through my tightening throat. “Rae Elizabeth, youarea little different from most people, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. What that girl said to you was very mean, very uncalled for,and very untrue.You are beautiful and wonderful. Some people just aren’t nice.”
She sniffles a few times and then nods. “I know.”
That’s right, she does. Not only has she seen unkindness from her own mother, but—extraordinarily, even I have to say—she can also innately sense the heart of a person like I can. Thankfully, that part is just intuitive and not born from experience; I really don’t know how she ended up with such insight, since Mom and Kelle definitely didn’t pass it down to her. But it’s something to be valued. It has proved to be a good alarm a time or two.
“Believe in yourself no matter what, babe,” I remind her.
I watch her heave a sigh and wipe at her cheeks.
Then she crosses her arms, lifts her chin, and says stuffily, “Okay. I’m done being sad. I want to be happy.”
That brings a proud smile to my face. “Awesome! You go, girl!” I lean forward and kiss her cheek, then turn and head to the car. “Let’s go home and have fun. But just so you know, it’s okay to be sad. It’s not a bad thing.”
“Okay.” After some thought, she adds, “I hope that girl doesn’t make anybody else cry. It really hurts your feelings when someone makes fun of you.”
“Yes, it does. I hope her parents talk to her and that she learns her lesson.”Little jerk.
“Me, too.”
At home, the fun doesn’t start right away because we encounter a different sort of jerk—well, I do, because I’m the one who reads the mail around here. I’ve received a letter saying our food stamps have been reduced because of my recent, miniscule raise at work.
Damn it, Ihatethose people.
Rae and I already haven’t had much to work with in the way of food stamps, and now we have to get by on even less? My income wasn’t comfortable before the raise and it’s still not comfortable now. It’s not like my job threw a bunch of money at me. We still need help.
But the human services office doesn’t care about any of that, I realize after I call and beg them to reconsider. I don’t know why because it makes no sense, but they just flat-outdo not care.
So that’s fucking great.
What next? Is the assistance I get for Rae’s after-school childcare going to get snipped at, too?
Sometimes I wish I had someone to talk about this stuff with—another adult who can offer advice or even just emotional support. Someone who can handle hearing about problems like this and won’t unnecessarily stress out because they’re a child.
But I don’t have anyone. I only have myself.
Before that fact can overwhelm me too much, I force myself to spend a couple minutes breathing deeply. I need some fresh air and I can’t go get it right this second, so I picture myself outside with the open sky and a breeze.
At length, I’m no longer itching to smash my phone against a wall (wouldn’t help anything whatsoever) and I’m able to think about this thing more clearly.
It’s all about perspective.
Our food stamps haven’t been slashed to absolutely nothing; I’m sure there are people out there with even less helpful benefits than we have. We can make this new adjustment work. We’ll have to cut out stuff like cookies to eat with our post-dinner movies, but that’s really not a big deal. And if I do run into problems with the childcare assistance…well, there are cheaper daycares around here that I could look into. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.
Thiswon’t be the end ofme.Not even close.
I’ve handled a lot in my life. Things that caused me great pain and still give me terrible nightmares. Things I shouldn’t have had to endure because I was just a defenseless kid. So this, too, can be dealt with, and Icandeal with it by myself. I’ve been doing it for five years. Hell, even before I got Rae, I was pretty used to not depending on people because no one in my family was trustworthy. I did have a few friends who helped me in their own ways—letting me crash at their places was invaluable to me—but in the end, we had to go in different directions because, like my family, they weren’t ready to give up the life they knew.
And did I let any of that break me? No. I just kept going.
