PART IV

I have never before had reason to be ashamed of my daughter.

But now I have reason and I am ashamed. And Angry. I thought I raised her better, thought I taught her to have compassion for those who are in need, to share her blessings.

I woke early this morning, as always. I went downstairs to get things started in the restaurant, then went back upstairs. I contacted human services. Jim had already filed a report with them. They said they would come get her today, but I asked for paperwork. I wanted to offer her a home. The agent said she did not think that would be 'prudent.' She warned me that it would be all too easy to get attached, and that the wrench would be that much worse when she was taken to a state home.

I protested that I wanted to take care of her, that I was already attached, that this child needed me. I even said I wanted to adopt her. They agreed to send someone over to talk to my family, and me but then a crash rang through the whole house. I hung up the phone and ran into Liz's room.

Liz was screaming, and the little girl, Tess was standing over her. The blankets were on the floor—and in Liz's hand I saw strands of blond hair. "Girls!" I shouted.

"Mommy this strange girl was in my bed and my clothes! Make her leave! Now!" Liz fretted.

The little blond backs away nervously. She licks her lips. "I was just sleeping and she came in and tore off all the blankets and grabbed me by my hair and outta the bed."

"Elizabeth!" I say, shocked. "Is that true?"

"It's mine!" My daughter whines, sounding all of two rather than ten.

"I'm leaving anyway. Ed will come back for me and we'll go." The girl, Tess says. "And even if he doesn't, I know how to take care of myself!"

My heart breaks a little for this girl. "Elizabeth, apologize and welcome Tess into our home."

Elizabeth wails and runs out past me.

Tess looks down. I can tell she is ashamed. I am also. "Please, Tess, believe me, you are welcome in this house. Elizabeth will come around."

"Sure." She says.

"There's some clean clothes for you on the desk." I offer.

She nods, uncomfortable.

"I'll get out so you can change." I leave, and find Elizabeth. She is cuddled in Jeff's lap, pouring out her version of the story. I know it is no use to tell my husband that Elizabeth behaved abominably to this other girl. Elizabeth is his child. She is mine too, but I am conscious (maybe too conscious) of her faults.

I fix breakfast, blessing whoever invented cold cereal. I pour and extra glass of juice, remembering that Tess liked it. Elizabeth eats sullenly, and Jeff looks at me reproachfully. How dare I side with a stranger above my own child?

The question troubles me so that I barely realize it has been a half-hour and Tess has not yet joined us. It can not take that long for her to change. I knock on the door, with an uneasy feeling as I do so. Eventually, I just go in. The window is open, the curtains billowing in the breeze.

The little blond is gone. Did she always plan to go or did Elizabeth chase her away? I will never know if I could've chased away the haunted look in her eyes.

I call Jim, fumbling slightly with the phone. I pour out the story—Tess is gone, and I don't know where.

He tells me to calm down, and put Jeff on. I tell him I can't, Jeff is furious with me for yelling at Elizabeth when she ripped the other girl's hair out of her head.

Jim sighs, and I remember the days when we used to date, way back when, long before I ever thought I would love Jeff, long before his selfish Michelle broke his heart…

"Nan, don't worry, I'll find our girl." He says, and my insides feel warm.

'our girl' I think. "Our girl?" I repeat.

"Yes, well…" I hear him stumble for words. "I mean, since we're going to be a part of her life now."

"I hope you find her." I say.

"Just let me drop Kyle off with Amy DeLuca and I'll get started." He promises. "I'll be by some time today with updates."

"Thank you." I tell him. "I'll have coffee and some dessert waiting for you, on the house."

"Then I'll definitely be by." He teases.

And we hang up, and I feel shame wash over me. She for my daughter's behavior, for flirting with an old boyfriend, shame for the anger I feel at my family, and most of all I am ashamed that I failed the little girl named Tess with hair like the sun and a face like a heart. I never even learned her last name.