Читать книгу Our Fragile Hearts - Buffy Andrews - Страница 11

Chapter 1

Rachel

“Come on, Piper. Hurry up and finish your cereal. You don’t want to be late for your first day of kindergarten.”

Piper shrugged her boney shoulders. “Why can’t I stay home with you, Rachel?”

“Because you have to go to school. It’ll be fun, you’ll see. Besides, you’re always playing school with your dolls; now you get to go to school for real.”

“But what if I don’t like it?” Piper shoveled a spoonful of cereal into her tiny mouth.

“You will. You’ll make new friends.” I filled my coffee mug.

“But what if they don’t like me?”

I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “They will. What’s there not to like about you?”

“Daniel said I look funny.”

“Well, you tell Daniel he looks funnier. Besides, what does he know?”

Piper’s blue eyes widened. “Daniel’s the smartest kid in daycare. He reads books and he knows every single dinosaur.”

I brushed back Piper’s blonde hair. “You’re smart, too. You know way more than I did when I was your age.”

“How old are you?

“How old do you think I am?”

Piper chewed her lip and squinted. “Fifty!”

I spit out the coffee I’d just sipped. “Fifty! No! Twenty-two. I was eighteen when you were born.”

“That’s old.”

“Thanks.”

“But not as old as mommy, right?”

“Right.”

Piper scrunched her freckled nose. “Are you going to be there when the bus brings me home?”

I sat down across from Piper and looked into her eyes. “Yes, I told you I will meet you at the bus stop this afternoon.”

“Mommy said she’d pick me up at daycare but she never did.”

“That’s because she was dead.” As soon as the words tumbled out of my mouth I wanted to stuff them back inside. But it was too late. I have this habit of saying what I’m thinking out loud. It was never a problem before Piper came into my life. I didn’t even know I had a sister until Linda… er, my mom from whom I’d been estranged… died. And now that I’m trying to raise Piper on my own, something I’ve only been doing for a few months, I’m drowning in this new territory, saying things out loud that I shouldn’t and making Piper sad.

Believe me, being a parent is the last thing I wanted, but I hated the alternative even more – putting Piper in foster care. I knew what that was like. I’d spent my childhood in and out of foster homes. I’ll never forget the day I was taken from my home for the first time. I was about Piper’s age and I came home from school to find a strange lady and two policemen at the apartment. Mom was sitting on the couch surrounded by empty bottles of vodka. Her hair was messy and she smelled like she’d been rooting around in the dumpster outside.

“Hi, Rachel,” the tall lady in the black pants and jacket had said. “My name is Miss Helen and I’m going to take you to another place to live for a while.”

“But what about Mommy?”

“We are going to get your mommy some help. And while she’s getting help, you’ll live with a wonderful woman. Her name is Miss Evelyn and she lives in a big house on the other side of town. Is that all right with you?”

I’d bitten my lower lip. “Will she feed me?”

“Yes, of course she’ll feed you. And she’ll make sure you get a bath and brush your hair and help you with your schoolwork. And when your mommy is better, you can come back here to live.”

I loved Miss Evelyn. Her home was the only home I ever felt safe in. It’s also where I met my best friend, Claire. She came to live with Miss Evelyn about a month after I did. We both wished we could live with her forever.

I looked at Piper. Her blue eyes turned glassy and her heart-shaped chin wobbled.

“Sorry, Piper. That came out wrong. I’ll be at the bus stop when you come home. Promise.”

Piper didn’t ask any more questions and managed to finish most of her cereal before we headed for the bus stop in front of the entrance to our apartment complex. I definitely felt out of place standing beside all of the moms and dads. I kept hearing in my head, “One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn’t belong.”

Me, that’s who. I didn’t belong. I had a life. A decent life before I got the phone call that changed it forever.

I watched as parents pulled out their cellphones to take first-day-of-school photos. I imagined Facebook feeds inundated with photos marking the special event. I didn’t want Piper to feel different or any less special, so I pulled out my phone and took a picture of her. I remembered my first day of school. Mom sent me to the bus stop – alone. She was nursing a hangover and never made it off the couch. She was everything a mom shouldn’t be. Her drinking only got worse the older I got. She went into rehab when I left and got sober. Then Piper came along. A new beginning. She had a chance to be the kind of mom she should’ve been to me. Only it didn’t last. Good things rarely do.

Piper tugged on my shirt. I looked down. “What?”

“I have to pee.”

I sighed. “Really? You can’t hold it?”

She shook her head and her blonde curls bounced.

“Come on.” I grabbed her hand and turned to walk back to the apartment. Just then I heard the bus screech as it rounded the corner. I was not happy. I had to get to work and now I’d have to take Piper to school.

“I told you to go to the potty before we left.”

“I didn’t have to go then.”

I opened our apartment door and marched her inside. “Go.”

“And then I can stay home with you, right?”

I counted to ten, trying to keep myself from blowing up. “No, you can’t. You have to go to school. It’s the law. If you don’t go to school, I’ll get in trouble. Now go pee so we can go.”

“I don’t have to pee anymore.”

“Damn it, Piper!”

She folded her arms. “You said a bad word.”

“And I’m going to say more bad words if you ever pull another stunt like this again.”

I grabbed my keys and purse and marched her out to the car. Piper squirmed in her seat as I yanked the seatbelt and buckled her in, tugging on the strap to make sure it was secure.

I was so mad that I didn’t talk for the first mile. But then I started to feel bad because I really wanted Piper to have a good first day and it’d started out all wrong. I looked over at her. “Sorry, Piper. Look. Don’t do that again, okay? Don’t tell me you have to pee when you really don’t. I know you’re worried about school but I think you’ll like it. You’re smart and friendly and you color better than any five-year-old I know. I’ll be at the bus stop when you come home. Promise.”

Piper sniffed. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

I reached over and patted her shoulder. “I know you didn’t, but when you do stuff like that it makes my life more difficult. And it’s difficult enough.”

“Sorry, Rachel.”

“So you’re not going to lie ever again, right?”

Piper nodded.

“Remember the story I told you about the little boy who cried wolf? When a real wolf came, no one believed him because he’d lied so many times before. Don’t be like that little boy. Don’t tell me you have to pee when you don’t.”

Piper squirmed in her seat. “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I pulled into the school parking lot, busy with buses pulling in and out. I found a spot near the playground. “Look at the swings and the slide and monkey bars. They look like fun.”

Piper peeked out of the window in the direction I’d pointed. Her tiny bow lips curved slightly upward. “Maybe I can swing today.”

I patted her knee. “Maybe. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun surprises today. Ready?”

She nodded and I got out of the car and walked around to her side and opened the door. She crawled out and I helped her put on her Pink Princess backpack, positioning the glittery straps over her narrow shoulders. We’d started walking toward the main entrance when I felt her delicate hand brush against mine. I wrapped my fingers around hers and we walked hand in hand into the building.

The office was bustling with parents coming and going. We stood in line behind a tall man in a suit and a girl who looked to be about Piper’s age. The girl stared at Piper, her black eyes swallowing her pretty face. She flashed a bright white smile at Piper and Piper turned toward me, mushing her tiny body against my leg. I smiled. “Hi. What’s your name?”

She mashed her lips together as if she was trying to keep from talking.

The man she was with turned around and smiled. “Go ahead, tell the nice lady what your name is.”

She looked up at the man, the tiny black braids hugging her head flopping about.

He arched his eyebrows and nodded. “Don’t be rude. Answer the mother’s question.”

I gasped. It wasn’t the first time I’d been mistaken for Piper’s mother, but it still made me catch my breath, especially since the last time had ended in Piper having a meltdown.

“I’m not her mother,” I explained. “I’m her sister.”

The man extended his hand. “My apologies. This is Jacy.” He patted the girl on her shoulder. And I’m Marcus.”

I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Rachel and this is Piper.”

“I like your hair,” Piper told Jacy.

Jacy smiled. “I like yours, too.”

By luck, it turned out the girls had the same teacher and an aide came to take them to their room. I squatted so I was eye to eye with Piper. “Now remember to keep your special ID necklace on. That way the helpers can make sure you get on the right bus.”

“And you’ll be at the bus stop, right?”

“Right. Just like I promised.”

Marcus smiled and we watched the girls walk with the aide. Jacy reached over and took Piper’s hand.

“It looks like the girls made at least one new friend today,” I said.

Marcus smiled. “That’s good. Jacy was worried she wouldn’t make any friends.”

“Piper, too. I’m glad we ended up in line behind you.”

Marcus and I walked out of the school building together, exchanging some more small talk about the weather. My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my purse and read the text. It was from Claire.

Free tonight? How about happy hour at White Rose?

I texted back.

Can’t. Piper’s first day of school.

She responded.

K. Another time maybe? Miss you!

Yeah, sure, I thought. Another time. But we both knew there probably wouldn’t be another time. I had Piper now. Everything was different. I exhaled a heavy sigh. I missed my old life, the one where I was attending college and bartending at Jack’s. I was only a few classes shy of earning my social work degree when I learned Mom had died. So I dropped out of college, hoping to return one day, and scrambled to find a day job so I could take care of Piper.

Mom’s best friend, Judy, who had tracked me down when Mom died, hooked me up with a cleaning agency. She knew the owner, who was looking for help. I wasn’t crazy about cleaning, but the money was good and I could work around Piper’s schedule. I needed that kind of flexibility.

I looked into my rearview mirror and put the car in reverse, slowly pulling out. Damn, Mom, I thought. Why’d you have to die?

I hadn’t realized how expensive it was to raise a child. Mom left us a few dollars in her bank account, barely enough to cover the cost of her funeral. And who knew when we’d have enough to buy her a tombstone. Probably never. I hate saying this, but it wasn’t at the top of my shopping list. There were too many other things we needed. Or rather Piper needed. Shoes. Clothing. And food.

The traffic was backed up from an accident and it was taking me longer to get to my cleaning job than I’d planned. I was at a standstill between exits on the interstate so I called Claire. When she answered, I could tell by the sound of her voice she was still in bed. “I thought you’d be up by now.”

“Are you kidding me?” She yawned. “You know I don’t get up before noon unless I have to. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, guess I just forgot. Hard to believe that was me a few months ago.”

Claire laughed. “Next thing you know you’ll be driving a minivan.”

I’m not sure what came over me but I burst into tears. I sobbed so hard that I could barely see out my front window. Between the rain, which had just started, and my tears, the world was one big blur.

“Rachel, I’m sorry,” Claire shouted. “I didn’t mean it. Honest.”

I sniffed. “It’s okay. You’re right. I’m like a fifty-year-old stuck in a twenty-two-year-old body.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad,” Claire said. “I tell you what. You get a date and I’ll watch Piper. I’ll even come to your apartment so I can put her to bed and you can come home whenever.”

“First, I have to get a date. And the chances of that are slim considering my life revolves around Piper. There’s no time for anything else. I can’t even go for a run anymore.”

“Why?” Claire said. “Have Piper ride her bike alongside you.”

I sighed. “She doesn’t have a bike.”

“What? No bike? What kid doesn’t have a bike?”

“This kid. Look, I’m okay. Sorry for the meltdown. I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I’ll get over it. I have to go. I’m cleaning Howard’s house today.”

“The hoarder?”

“Yes. It seems every week the junk in his house multiplies like my credit card debt. I convince him to trash a pile of newspapers he’s had for a decade and another pile appears. I’ll never understand how someone can live like that.”

We hung up and when I walked into Howard’s house I found him at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. The tiny patch of white hair on top of his head stood straight up. The white hair growing out of his ears resembled wiry rabbit whiskers. He looked out over his thick black reading glasses perched on the tip of his broad nose. “Good morning,” he muttered.

I threw my purse on the kitchen counter, taking up the last piece of vacant real estate. “Hi, Howard. You look well today.”

He muttered something that sounded like a cross between a thank you and a “I know you’re lying just to be nice” comment.

“Anything special you’d like me to tackle today?” I noticed a new stack of travel magazines had sprouted under the table, leaving Howard with a tiny square space for his feet.

He didn’t look up from the newspaper. “Nope. Same as usual.”

“You know, Howard, you should consider getting rid of some of your junk… er, stuff. It’d make it easier to clean.”

He didn’t answer.

“When I moved I donated a lot of things to the thrift store. They were happy to have them. You could do the same. Perhaps your daughter would help you.”

He sucked in a bucket of air and exhaled it slowly through his noticeably chapped lips. “Margaret? I haven’t seen Margaret in weeks.”

“Isn’t that odd? Don’t you usually see her every week?”

“Not since she’s taken up with that bozo. She brought him here a while back and he didn’t impress me none. Sells insurance or something. Wanted to sell me some. I told him I had enough.”

“Well, okay then. But I’d bet Margaret would help if you asked her.”

Howard turned the newspaper page. “She’d want something for her trouble. She always does.”

I wished I hadn’t brought up Margaret’s name. Howard was becoming more belligerent by the moment. “Well, I’d better get started.”

He muttered as I slid away, following the curved path flanked on either side by junk that reached the ceiling, toward the bathroom.