A/N: Again, I haven't seen this episode since I lost my tape, so the
details may be a bit off. Hope I captured the spirit of it, at least!
Feedback is very welcome, as always.
Homecoming--Chapter Three
My math teacher had assigned the odd problems at the end of the chapter. For science, I had to define the vocabulary words in the back of chapter eight. For English, I had to write two pages about my family.
That sort of thing was what made me ditch school after my mother died and I was sent to my first foster home. What did they expect me to write? That my mother was dead and I hadn't seen my father in fourteen years? That I lived with a group of strangers who probably wouldn't keep me past the end of the month?
That was unfair, at least to the Hansens. They didn't seem the type to drop me off at Social Services the first chance they got. But that was the story with just about every other family I'd ever lived with. I'd live with them two months or three weeks or in one disasterous placement, five days. I'd heard every excuse in the book as to why they couldn't keep me. Lilly's a delightful girl, but we have our hands full with our other children. Lilly's a troublemaker, and we're afraid she'll be a bad influence on her peers. Lilly continuously breaks our rules about smoking and staying out with boys. And about a hundred others.
My mother and I lived in Oklahoma until--
I put down my pencil and sighed. If I wrote that, I'd end up in the guidance counselor's office before first period was over.
My family has five people in it, besides me. Dr. Hansen is like my--
What was she? My mother or my sister? She was rather young to be the former, and old to be the latter. On that trail of thought, were Joanie and Robbie my aunt and uncle or brother and sister? Was Hannah my sister or my niece? Did they even think of me as family, or was I just a guest until another foster family decided to take me?
I tore the paper out of my notebook and crumpled it into a little ball, dropping it on the floor. I'd have to remember to pick it up and toss it in the trash downstairs when I was through. Maybe I should forget about this English assignment for now and do the rest of my homework. Math, maybe. Something cut and dry with right and wrong answers.
Instead I got up and wandered around the attic, browsing through the boxes of finger paintings and school photos. Robbie was missing two teeth in his third grade picture. Joanie drew lots of pictures of cats when she was seven. The more I looked at, the more I felt I was intruding.
"Lilly?" I quickly spun around to face Dr. Hansen.
"Oh." I stepped away from the box. "Hi."
"I'm going to bed," she told me. "Is there anything you need?"
I shook my head. "No, thank you, Dr. Hansen."
She smiled at me and started down the stairs, then stopped and turned around. "Lilly?"
"Hmm?"
"You can call me Syd."
I wanted to say something. How much that meant to me. To thank her for letting me stay with her, even if it was just for a little while. How she'd been nicer to me than anyone I'd known since my mom died. But the words died in my mouth. I couldn't say it. So I smiled instead. Hoped she understood what I couldn't say.
Dr. Hansen--Syd--smiled back at me. "Goodnight, Lilly."
"Goodnight," I echoed. She left, and I leaned back against a stack of boxes. My hand brushed against a picture frame, and I pulled it out of the box. The Hansen family smiled at me out of the frame: Dr. Hansen--Syd-- (this would take some getting used to) and her father, and Robbie and Joanie and a woman who could only be Mrs. Hansen. They looked happy. They looked like a family.
I needed a cigarette. Badly. I knew I wasn't supposed to smoke in here, but that didn't stop me from plucking my pack out of my jacket pocket and lighting one. I started to feel better as the smoke filled my lungs and the nicotine raced through my bloodstream. This was okay. I could make it through this.
After I'd smoked three cigarettes, the attic was thick with smoke. I opened two windows, but the air didn't clear fast enough for me. There was no way in hell I could do my homework like this. Maybe I'd take a walk, clear my head a bit, and come back to finish my homework when the smoke had aired out. Right, that was what I'd do.
I put down my cigarette on the dresser and quietly crept down the stairs and out of the house.
Homecoming--Chapter Three
My math teacher had assigned the odd problems at the end of the chapter. For science, I had to define the vocabulary words in the back of chapter eight. For English, I had to write two pages about my family.
That sort of thing was what made me ditch school after my mother died and I was sent to my first foster home. What did they expect me to write? That my mother was dead and I hadn't seen my father in fourteen years? That I lived with a group of strangers who probably wouldn't keep me past the end of the month?
That was unfair, at least to the Hansens. They didn't seem the type to drop me off at Social Services the first chance they got. But that was the story with just about every other family I'd ever lived with. I'd live with them two months or three weeks or in one disasterous placement, five days. I'd heard every excuse in the book as to why they couldn't keep me. Lilly's a delightful girl, but we have our hands full with our other children. Lilly's a troublemaker, and we're afraid she'll be a bad influence on her peers. Lilly continuously breaks our rules about smoking and staying out with boys. And about a hundred others.
My mother and I lived in Oklahoma until--
I put down my pencil and sighed. If I wrote that, I'd end up in the guidance counselor's office before first period was over.
My family has five people in it, besides me. Dr. Hansen is like my--
What was she? My mother or my sister? She was rather young to be the former, and old to be the latter. On that trail of thought, were Joanie and Robbie my aunt and uncle or brother and sister? Was Hannah my sister or my niece? Did they even think of me as family, or was I just a guest until another foster family decided to take me?
I tore the paper out of my notebook and crumpled it into a little ball, dropping it on the floor. I'd have to remember to pick it up and toss it in the trash downstairs when I was through. Maybe I should forget about this English assignment for now and do the rest of my homework. Math, maybe. Something cut and dry with right and wrong answers.
Instead I got up and wandered around the attic, browsing through the boxes of finger paintings and school photos. Robbie was missing two teeth in his third grade picture. Joanie drew lots of pictures of cats when she was seven. The more I looked at, the more I felt I was intruding.
"Lilly?" I quickly spun around to face Dr. Hansen.
"Oh." I stepped away from the box. "Hi."
"I'm going to bed," she told me. "Is there anything you need?"
I shook my head. "No, thank you, Dr. Hansen."
She smiled at me and started down the stairs, then stopped and turned around. "Lilly?"
"Hmm?"
"You can call me Syd."
I wanted to say something. How much that meant to me. To thank her for letting me stay with her, even if it was just for a little while. How she'd been nicer to me than anyone I'd known since my mom died. But the words died in my mouth. I couldn't say it. So I smiled instead. Hoped she understood what I couldn't say.
Dr. Hansen--Syd--smiled back at me. "Goodnight, Lilly."
"Goodnight," I echoed. She left, and I leaned back against a stack of boxes. My hand brushed against a picture frame, and I pulled it out of the box. The Hansen family smiled at me out of the frame: Dr. Hansen--Syd-- (this would take some getting used to) and her father, and Robbie and Joanie and a woman who could only be Mrs. Hansen. They looked happy. They looked like a family.
I needed a cigarette. Badly. I knew I wasn't supposed to smoke in here, but that didn't stop me from plucking my pack out of my jacket pocket and lighting one. I started to feel better as the smoke filled my lungs and the nicotine raced through my bloodstream. This was okay. I could make it through this.
After I'd smoked three cigarettes, the attic was thick with smoke. I opened two windows, but the air didn't clear fast enough for me. There was no way in hell I could do my homework like this. Maybe I'd take a walk, clear my head a bit, and come back to finish my homework when the smoke had aired out. Right, that was what I'd do.
I put down my cigarette on the dresser and quietly crept down the stairs and out of the house.