Chapter VIII
Meet the Rogers
"What most people don't understand about The System is that while most foster parents are good people with good families and support systems...some aren't."
She watched two people come down the hall and go into Dwighten's office. She immediately started sizing them up. The man was a cookie-cutter business man, three piece suit and a otter-slick hair style. His wife was the image of a exec's woman. She too sported a business suit and perfectly coiffed hair. Sara knew the type immediately. She was a status symbol to them. 'Oh look how good and kind we are. We're foster parents.' She shrugged, she'd certainly seen worse. As long as they kept their distance, and didn't try to smother her with 'understanding' or rules she would be fine. From the looks of Mr. and Mrs. Corporate America, being smothered was definitely not a big concern.
Sure enough, when they did come out to see her, she could see right through their plastic smiles. She pinned the man as the instigator, he actually looked like he cared. The woman was obviously the more reluctant...she was an Ice Queen. "Hello Sara. I'm Robert and this is my wife Anna." She nodded. "Hello." He smiled, "Well, then, lets get you to your new home." Sara didn't miss the slight look of disgust go across Anna's face.
The Rogers home was in one of the historic areas of San Fransisco. It was nice, pretty Sara immediately felt out of place and very plain. Her room was on the second floor and she got her own bathroom. She wasn't sure how she'd lucked out and gotten the swanky placement, but she immediately decided that she wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize it.
Robert Rogers smiled at her. "Well, Sara, I've gotta go back to work, but Anna will get you all settled in and explain the rules and everything. It's good to have you, kid." She nodded and watched him descend down the stairs. She heard the door shut and turned to Anna. Sara knew very well that this woman wielded the power here.
She was curvy, blonde and sophisticated, three things that Sara would never be. "So Sara, the rules are very simple. We feed you, clothe you, send you to school. You Do. Not. Cause. Any. Trouble. I know exactly how much money is in my purse and my jewelry is kept in a safe." Sara's back went stiff. "I'm no thief." A blonde eyebrow arched, "No, none of you are." She shrugged, "I find you stealing, drinking or doing drugs I'll throw you back faster then you could blink." The woman's face was dark, hard, dangerous. Suddenly it softened, "My son, Ethan is coming to dinner tonight, you'll be expected to attend. It's a seven in the dining room." With that, Anna Rogers turned on her spiked heel and left Sara standing there. All in all, Sara had been in much worse situations. The Rogers she could handle.
Seven o'clock rolled around, and Sara looked down the hall. She'd unpacked the few things she owned, an extra set of clothes, a small pocket knife and a paper back copy of King's The Stand. With nothing left to do...and no clothes that could be considered formal, she headed down stairs to have her first fully interactive event with her new foster family.
"And here she is. Ethan, this is Sara, Sara this is Ethan." When she caught sight of the boy, no he was a man, Sara's breathe caught for just a second. He had blonde hair, green eyes and was dressed like someone who'd just stepped out of a fashion advertisement. "Hi." Ethan grinned, "Hey there, Sara."
Sara looked out the window, at the floor, anywhere but at her dining companion. "In retrospect, there was something off about him...I should have seen it, my survival skills should have kicked in, but they didn't. I felt safe, which was a mistake I wouldn't make again for a long, long time."
Catherine watched Sara closely, her brown eyes were distant and clouded with pain. Sara had been in the System...something had happened in her young life...something bad. She hadn't mentioned it, she obviously wanted to keep some secrets. Sara had given her the set-up, now she was about to get to the meat and potatoes of the tale. While Sara paused, Catherine took stock of what she knew so far. Sara had been young, impressionable and very lost. At the moment, her mother's instinct was to go and hunt down this Anna Rogers and throttle her. Sara had needed compassion, not suspicion. She signaled the waitress for another coffee and settled back, Sara's last words haunted her, "I felt safe, which was a mistake I wouldn't make again for a long, long time." Feeling safe wasn't a mistake, dammit. She wanted to, despite all of their problems, hug the younger woman. She wanted Sara to know, beyond the shadow of a doubt that she was safe now.