To all of you awesome, awesome readers who have favorited, followed and reviewed...thank you ever so much! I am excited that this story has been so well received. I'm unsure at this time as to how far I can take it, but I'll keep writing as long as the story continues to speak to me. Thanks again! And FYI...the disclaimer listed in the summary still stands.
~~thefosters~~thefosters~~thefosters~~
I am definitely becoming one to make profound statements. I realize that I've always had a talent for stating the obvious (not always gracefully, mind you), but today it seems as though I've become quite the show stopper. That statement definitely broke the proverbial ice. It's such a simple word. The word 'home'. And it seems that my declaration has completely taken the Mom's by surprise. So much so, that they were both looking at me like I had just grown a second head.
After a few moments of stunned silence, Mom shook herself out of her daze and said, "And we are so glad that you're back. So very glad. But do you have any idea how incredibly worried we were? How many hours that we looked for you? I'm not going to lie to you. I was angry. Hell, I'm still angry. But right now, the fact that you are standing in front of me, that I can reach out and physically touch you and see that you are safe and sound, makes me feel so incredibly relieved. And that is pretty much the only reason that you've not been sent to your room to stay. Until your 21st birthday. I really hope that you'll be understanding over the next few days. We need to assure ourselves that you're going to stay put. So we may be sticking close to you...a little more than usual. We don't want you to be uncomfortable, so if we get to be overly clingy, you'll tell us, yes?"
I nodded my head. It was as if in that moment, all words failed me. Confusion began to set in as I began to debate their sincerity. No one ever wanted to be sure of anything where I was concerned, so to say I was baffled, was the understatement of the year. The more my mind went back and forth, the more I began to panic. What if when all the talking was done, they decided to just call Bill to come and take me? What if they decided that I just wasn't worth the time and effort? As I continued going over the many possible catastrophes in my head, I heard a dish being set down on the island top. I looked up to see Momma standing directly across from me. She reached over the counter and took both of my hands into hers. I tried to pull away, but she shook her head and increased the tightness of her grip. I could tell that she wanted to speak, but it seems as though she is having the same trouble that I had been having. Words just wouldn't come out. I cocked my head to the side and waited. I noticed Mom out of the corner of my eye. She walked over to where Momma stood and placed her hand on the small of her back and started to rub circles lightly. This must have done the trick, because all at once, Momma spoke with conviction.
She said, "Callie, I can see the struggle in your eyes. I realize that it's hard for you to accept that we're fighting for you. Fighting to keep you with us. To accept that we love you. To accept that we are even willing to try. But I need for you to try and grant us a little bit of trust. We all need you to. And I can see how hard that that is going to be for you. But we need you to try. To try and believe the things that we are telling you. That we love you. All of us. So, so much. I understand that with all that's happened in your life, you've come to believe that no one is on your side. But we are. We will always be on your side. Now and forever."
At that moment I couldn't take anymore. My mind was overwhelmed. I blurted out, "Why? Why do you care so much? I'm nothing. I'm no one special. At some point you're going to want me gone. I'll do something stupid and you'll make me leave. Everyone does. And it's just going to wind up hurting more if I've let down my walls and let you completely in. I'm not going to lie. I'm totally scared and conflicted. In one day, I've started calling you Mom's and calling this house my home. I've never done that before. Ever. And I want more than anything to trust you and believe. But my head keeps screaming that this can't possibly be happening. That it's not real. That it's not true."
The Mom's both study me for a few minutes. I could almost see the wheels turning in their heads. And they both seemed unsure as to whether or not they should respond. All of the sudden, it's as if a light bulb had turned on over Momma's head. She squeezes my hands as she releases them and then reaches down to open the drawer that she's standing in front of. The drawer that I know contains the files on Jude and I. She pulls one out and then opens another drawer near her. From that drawer she grabs a Bic stick lighter. She sets the file and the lighter on the island top. I look over at Mom, wondering if she had any clue as to what was going through her wife's head. And after a second, a look of realization crosses her face. She notices the way that I am looking at her and she holds her hand up...as if to say, wait for it. I shrug and return to watching Momma, who was on her way back to the middle of the room with a large steel pot. She sits it down next to the other two items that she had previously retrieved. Again, I study the three items, curious as to where she was going with this. I look back and forth between them, my confusion mounting. I feel myself begin to get agitated. I know that there has to be a reason for the items she's brought out, but I can't figure it out. As I begin wringing my hands on the counter, I see Mom walk around the island to where I'm sitting. She steps behind me and rests her hands on my shoulders. I stiffen immediately and she leans down and whispers in my ear, "Relax, sweets. It's ok. You're ok." With that, I try to take a long, deep, cleansing breath and then breathe out all the agitation I could. I wasn't completely calm by any means. But it was a start.
I refocused my attention on Momma, who had just flipped open the file that she had taken out. She read the first page aloud. "Callie Jacobs is currently serving three months at San Diego Juvenile Corrections for vandalism." Just as my tears begin, she tears out the page, rips it into several pieces and drops it into the pot. As my tears continue, I look over my shoulder at Mom. She lifts her chin towards Momma, so I shift my gaze back to her. She begins to read again. "Callie Jacobs, along with her brother, are being removed from the Olmsteads home due to her having an inappropriate sexual relationship with their nineteen year old biological son." My tears are now pouring down my face as I watch her tear out this page, rip it into tiny little pieces and drop it into the pot. I'm still lost as to what's happening and I feel as though I'm nearing hysterics. Mom is rubbing my shoulders and making soft noises to try and soothe me as I continue to watch Momma's actions. She tears page after page out of my file, rips them into pieces and adds them to the pot. After a few minutes, I noticed that the file that has represented my life, is now empty. Momma picks up the lighter and hands it over to me. I look at it, then at her, with confusion written all over my face. She smiles sadly and clearly says, "You are not your file. Each page is a horrible picture of a completely broken system. It tells us that your social worker and the families that he placed you with failed you. Not the other way around. This file has led you to believe that you are no one. That you are worthless. That no one could possibly ever love you or want you. And that no matter where you end up, that you'll never be safe. That stops now. This file, these words are lies. Lies about my daughter. Our daughter. And I for one, am tired of the weight it carries. So, we're going to get rid of it. And from now on, if we or anyone needs answers pertaining to Callie Jacobs Foster, she'll be able to answer for herself. No more Bill or anyone else. Now, I want you to stick that lighter into the pot and light that paper. And we are going to watch each and every little piece burn. It's as if you're starting over. Or being reborn."
With tears still rolling down my face, I reach into the pot and push the button to turn the lighter on. As the first piece of paper ignites, my tears begin to flow faster. I pull my hand back as I watch the tiny flames engulf the last eight years of my life. I look up to see Momma ripping up the actual file folder and she adds one piece at a time to the fire until the whole thing is gone. My tears, are now sobs as I realize that it's gone. That file. The one that has pretty much defined me my whole life, it's just gone. And I wonder where I go from here. Is it really that simple? To just burn it all away and start all over? As I continue to cry, I feel Mom slide her arms around me and pull me back into her. I cried shamelessly in her arms. I cried for the eight years I had lost. For the loss of my innocence. For the loss of my childhood. For the loss of my birth mom. I cried for the girl who never really got to be a child and who never ever learned what love was. I cried for me.
As Mom rocked me back and forth, Momma took the pot outside to the back porch. She wiped her eyes as she dumped a pitcher of water over it to be sure all of the embers had died out. She made her way back inside and went back to putting lunch onto the island. When she was finished, she walked over to where Mom was standing and I was sitting. She leaned down, placed a kiss on my cheek and said, "I know that we're all emotional right now, but when you're ready, we all need to sit down and eat something. To take a few minutes and relax, to collect ourselves. To just be together."
I nodded my agreement, even though the idea of food right now made me want to yack. As I struggle to control my emotions, I can feel my nausea rise. I take a deep breath as I notice my body flush hot then cold. I breathe once more to try and gather myself. But to my dismay, the bile rises to my throat. I jump up quickly, shrug Mom off and run around the corner to the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before I lurch and begin to empty my stomach's contents into the bowl. As I heaved over and over, I hear someone come up behind me. I realize in that moment that I'd forgotten to shut the door in my rush. I feel a pair of hands pull my hair back and tie it up as I continue retching. As I finish, I flush the toilet and I wipe my face with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, unsure of how long I had until the cycle would repeat itself. I leaned back against the wall, trying to relax as much as any human could in this situation. I look up to see Momma at the sink filling a cup with water. She sits down next to me and hands me the glass. I offer a shaky smile of thanks and take a few small sips. I put the cup down next to me and lean my head back, silently asking for the world to stop spinning. Momma puts her arm around my shoulder and pulls me into her. She holds me for a few minutes and then she quietly begins to recite the poem that they'd given Mariana and Jesus on their adoption day.
"We didn't give you the gift of life,
but in our hearts we know,
the love we have is deep and real,
as if it had been so...
For us to have each other,
is like a dream come true,
though we didn't give you the gift of life,
life gave us the gift of you."
When she finished reciting the poem, she pulled me closer and gave me a squeeze. She cleared her throat and spoke quietly with a waver in her voice, "You asked us earlier why we cared so much. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Mariana the day that Stef was shot. DNA doesn't make a family, love does. In the very same way that we chose Mariana and Jesus, we are choosing you. You Callie Jacobs Foster. And we couldn't be happier about it. I need you to understand that we accept you. All of you. Your bad days, your good days, your past, your present, your future and everything in between. Even all of the insecurities that you may have. And we will never...never ever send you away. You are a part of us now. A part of all of us. And so you know...you're wrong. You are special. You are incredibly special. Don't you ever doubt that or forget it. And most importantly Callie, you are loved. So very loved."
As the last word fell from her mouth, I scrambled to get back to the toilet. I leaned forward and held onto the seat of the toilet as my stomach rebelled violently. I couldn't help but beg under my breath for this to stop. After a few dry heaves, I decided that it was done and I tried to stand so that I could go to the sink and wipe my face and rinse my mouth. My legs wobbled dangerously and I quickly dropped to my knees. Being as I couldn't get up at the moment, I leaned forward and rested my head on the toilet seat. I figured I'd just wait here until I felt a little stronger.
About the time that my second round had started I heard Momma yell for Mom. I detected a hint of panic in her voice. If I could have found a way to reassure her that I was fine, I would've done so. But I was more than a little tied up at that moment. And just as I had put my head down on the seat to rest, I heard Mom's rushed footsteps coming towards us. I heard them over my shoulder quietly discussing what needed to be done.
Suddenly, both of them were beside me. The positioned themselves one on each side of me and bent down. Each of them slid an arm under mine and proceeded to pull me to my feet. I was far to exhausted to protest. They walked me to the sink and Mom held me up while Momma wiped my face. She reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out the toothbrush that I'd left in there the day of the wedding. She handed it to me and told me to brush. I did as I was asked and after my last swish and spit, I dropped the toothbrush into the trash can next to the sink. Mom waited for me to steady myself and then she guided me out of the room. She walked me up the stairs and down the hall to their room. I looked at her questioningly and she smiled. We walked to the bed and she said, "Climb in." I hesitated and she gave me a nudge. I crawled into the bed and settled in the middle on my left side. She cleared her throat and said, "Any time our babies are sick, they somehow end up here."
As she finished explaining, Momma joined us in the room. She walked to her side of the bed and climbed in and laid down beside me. Mom kicked off her shoes and reached down to pull mine off as well. She tossed them to the ground and climbed in on her side. Then, as if on cue, they both turned toward me. They each draped an arm over me and Mom said, "Rest easy, love. We can settle everything in a few hours."
I closed my eyes wondering how I'd gotten so lucky. No one had ever cared enough to even check on me when I was sick, let alone take care of me or lay with me. I realize that I have been taking this placement for granted. I've run my mouth and put up all my walls, all in the name of protection. When in reality, they had only wanted to help me. Maybe, just maybe, it's time to let it all go. As my breathing slowed, I began to smile. This is it. This is indeed what I'd been waiting for. Love. They loved me. And with that realization, I quietly said, "I love you, too."
