The end of the school year was definitely close. Even without looking at the calendar to see that it was May,
it would have been obvious in the way the kids were acting crazy, and the way the teachers all looked as though they wanted to just scream.
Since I was limited on what I could do with my time, being grounded as I was, I spent a lot of time on school work, just
as most other kids were doing less work. Therefore, I knew I was going to end the school year on a high note, academically, I mean.
Besides homework, I kept on playing the piano. Nearly every day, at some point, I sat down and began to play something.
Things were no different, no better, with the Evan situation. I didn't think they were any worse, really. It was the same
as it had been. Since the evening that he had actually had a conversation with me on the front porch, when he'd been so
horrible, at least horrible in my opinion, he hadn't talked to me again.
I mean nothing. Nada. Zip. I'd been home for almost three weeks from Daniel's. Well, two and a half weeks. And
Evan was still acting as though I wasn't even a blip on his radar. He wasn't mean, or openly rude. He just plain, out and out didn't talk
to me. He acted as though I wasn't even there, even if we were the only two people in the room together.
That had actually happened one evening. I'd been in the kitchen, giving myself my shot, when he'd come in, and
went to the refrigerator. Then he'd went to the cabinet and taken down a glass, pouring milk, and then putting the milk away again.
And then he left the kitchen, all without saying a word. Or acting as though he even saw me.
There were times I was almost angry about it. Those were the moments that I thought, well fine, if he wanted to
be like that, then okay. I would swear to myself that I wouldn't try to talk to him. That I'd quit watching him covertly to
see if he was looking at me. I'd just carry on with my life, with six brothers instead of seven.
Then reality would crash in again, and I'd remember that I didn't want any of those things. I wanted to talk to Evan.
I wanted to hang out with him. I wanted to be close again with him. Be friends. Be able to talk to him about stuff.
I wanted to have seven brothers. Not six.
7
I was at my wits end about the whole thing, though. I couldn't think of what else I could do. I didn't want to go
whining to anybody else about it. I thought that I would try again to talk to him. It took me two days to work up my nerve.
The next morning, I timed it so that I would catch him coming out of his bedroom. I got up early just to accomplish that.
I tried to look casual about it, though. When I heard his bedroom door open and then close, I came out of my open
door, toothbrush in hand, so that it would look as though I was going to brush my teeth, and not as though I was waiting to
ambush him.
I leaned against the hallway wall, biting at my lip as he came down the hallway.
"Hi, Evan," I said, working up all my nerve.
"Hey," he said, and went right on past me, heading for the stairs.
"Evan," I said, as he kept walking.
He paused at the top of the stairs, his hand on the bannister, to look back at me. "What?" he asked, sounding abrupt.
"I was wondering if we could talk sometime," I said, and I could hear the quaver in my voice. I hoped he couldn't hear it.
"About?" he asked, sounding even more curt.
"Just stuff," I said lamely. "It doesn't matter what, really. Whatever you want to talk about."
Evan gave me a long look. I mean, a long, long look.
"How come?" he asked then.
"What?" I asked, blinking a little, confused as to what he meant by that.
Evan sighed, in irritation. "How come it's such a big deal to you that we talk?"
I stared at him for a moment. "Well, because," I said, sort of vaguely. Then I decided to just to lay it on the line. "I miss you, Ev."
For a moment, and just for a moment, I thought I saw something in his eyes. Something that gave me hope.
But hope was crushed, because whatever it was that I'd seen in his eyes was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.
When he did speak, his voice wasn't mean. It was just matter-of-fact.
"Summer's almost here. You'll have plenty of people to talk to."
I knew he was referring to the fact that both Ford and Daniel would be home for the summer.
"I know that," I said. "But they're them. And you're you."
He looked away for a moment. "I've got to get going. I've got a lot to do."
"How long are you going to punish me for what I did?" I asked him, raising my voice.
He looked back at me. "I'm not tryin' to punish you, Harlie."
"Yeah?" I accused, in disbelief. "It sure seems that way."
"Well, that's not it." He sighed. "I told you that I forgive you."
"That was almost two weeks ago, and you haven't spoken to me since!" I accused.
"I have nothin' to say," he stated.
"To me!" I said, nearly hollering. "You have plenty to say to everybody else! It's just me you give the silent
treatment to!"
"Stop hollering," he said.
For a moment, I felt hopeful. He'd told me to stop hollering. Maybe if I kept on, he would get mad enough to
tell me to knock it off, and start acting like my big brother again. And then we could work thru everything.
"Why should I stop?" I said, still with a raised voice. "At least we're talking to each other!"
"I'm talking. You're yelling. And, I'm done." And, with that as a parting comment, he proceeded down the stairs.
I watched him go, and I know my mouth was still hanging open, in shock nearly. Again, I pictured
those rotten apples. And there, in my mind, was me, firing them at Evan so fast that he was covered in apple juice
and pieces.
7
On Thursday night of that week, Adam told me that we had a meeting the next morning at the courthouse.
"At the courthouse?" I asked, feeling frightened. "Why? Is this the hearing?"
"No. A meeting with the two lawyers. And Karissa, too. And the judge. Informal."
"But what about? I mean, why do we all have to meet?" I asked, feeling anxious, and twisting my hands together
nervously.
Adam glanced at my hands, and gave me a sympathetic look. "Come here," he said, and leaned against the
kitchen counter, pulling me over to stand directly in front of him, and looping his hands together behind my head.
"It's a meeting to discuss where we're at in the process," he said. "Talk about the children's service report
about you and Guthrie, and all of that."
"That was ages ago," I protested.
"Yeah," he said in agreement. "The courts don't get in a rush about most things."
"I know, but this borders on ridiculous," I said, without thinking, and Adam smiled a little.
"I have to agree," he said.
"It's just gone on so long, Adam," I said, feeling frustrated.
"I know, baby."
I thought for a moment. "Well, what about school, though?" I asked him.
"You'll miss most of the morning. You should be back by lunchtime."
"Okay." I sighed heavily.
"I know it's tough, but try not to worry too much," he advised. "John thinks that we may be able to wrap things up, if
it goes the way that he thinks it will."
"Who all's going? Just you and me? Or can Brian come, too?" I asked.
"Brian will come."
"And Hannah?" I asked him.
He gave me a long look, his eyes steady on my face. "Do you want her to come?"
I nodded.
"Well, we'll ask her then," he said.
"Okay." I thought for a minute. "Do you think it would be alright if I asked to talk to the judge alone?"
"I don't know what the protocol for that is," he said. "Or whether you'd be able to, or not. Why? Is it something
you want to do?"
"I think I'd like to," I said.
"Well, we can ask John about it," Adam said.
I thought how great he was, that he didn't even ask me what I would say to the judge if I got the opportunity.
I leaned in, and wrapped my arms around his waist.
"I want you to know something," I said, looking up into his tanned face.
"I'm ready," he said, with a half-grin.
"The life you've given me here, you and Brian and Crane, well, it's the best life growing up that I could have ever
had."
"I'm glad you feel that way," he said quietly.
"I mean, even with more money, and all the opportunities that Karissa's talked about wanting to do for me? All of that
stuff doesn't really matter. There's no comparing of it, with what you've done for me. Growing up here
and being able to be outside, and have all the animals, and learn about ranching. And all of you teaching me the things
you have. They're all things that are really important. And they're things she could never have done for me."
Adam blinked a few times, and then he sighed. "You're gonna make me start blubbering, sugar."
"Am I?" I asked, surprised.
"If you keep on, you will," he said.
"I just wanted you to know. That I'm happy and satisfied with what you've been able to give me," I said, finishing what I wanted to
say.
Adam pulled me tight against his chest, and we stood there like that, neither of us saying anything, for
several long minutes.
"Oh, baby girl," he said, and kissed the top of my head. He straightened up, and held me out a little,
so he could look at me.
"Thank you for tellin' me that," he said.
I remembered when Guthrie had told me, months ago, that I should tell Adam, and Brian, too, that I thought what
they'd provided and done for me was fine. That Karissa's expensive gifts and promises of travel didn't mean that much to me. I
saw now that Guthrie had been right.
"I should have told you sooner," I said. "I want to tell Brian, too."
"He'll appreciate it," Adam said.
I nodded.
Adam rubbed my back. "Alright. Well, we'll handle tomorrow like champs, right?"
"Right," I said, trying to sound certain.
7
I drank warm milk before bed, hoping that it would help me to sleep. Now that I knew what was looming ahead the next morning,
I was afraid I wouldn't be able to sleep at all.
I was in the kitchen, warming milk in a pan on the stove. Guthrie was sitting on the kitchen counter, eating cookies and
talking to me about the next day.
"I wish I could go," he said.
"Maybe you can," I said, thinking how much I would like that, too.
As if on cue, Adam came into the kitchen, setting his cup in the sink.
"Big pow wow goin' on in here?" he asked us.
"We're talking about tomorrow," I told him.
"Aw," he said, with a nod.
"We wanted to ask you somethin'," Guthrie spoke up.
Adam leaned against the counter opposite Guthrie, and crossed his arms.
"What's up?" he asked, as Evan came into the kitchen, and went to open the refrigerator.
"I was thinkin' that I'd like to go tomorrow, too," Guthrie said.
I turned from the stove, so that I was facing them both. "And I'd like it if he did go," I said.
Adam regarded us both seriously for a long moment. To Guthrie, he said, "I understand you want to go. And I understand why. It's
in your nature to look out for Harlie. And, sugar, I know it helps to have Guthrie with you. But, I think you ought to
go on to school, Guth."
"How come?" Guthrie asked.
"Isn't there some finals goin' on?" Adam pointed out.
"Yeah," Guthrie admitted. "But I can make 'em up. Just like Har's goin' to do."
"You could," Adam agreed. "But I think we should keep it low-key. Or as much as we can. And, I don't know
that you'd be allowed in this meeting, anyway. When it's time for the actual hearing, if there is one, then you can come with, if you want to."
I could read the disappointment on Guthrie's face, and I was feeling that way, too. But we exchanged glances, and I
knew that he wasn't going to argue with Adam. And neither was I.
"Okay," Guthrie said. "But this whole thing-it sucks," he said, with disgust. "It really sucks."
"I agree," Adam said. He stepped over, and put his hand on the back of Guthrie's head affectionately. Then he
gave us both a tired smile, and went back out towards the living room.
I realized then that Evan was still standing there, in front of the open refrigerator, and that he'd heard the conversation.
Oh well, I told myself, feeling emotional, it's not as though he gave a hoot anyway. I turned back to my task of
heating up the milk, as Evan went to get a plate from the cabinet, and a fork from the drawer.
"I wonder if that bitch from social services is gonna be there," Guthrie said. "You know, the one that came to talk to
us?"
I turned off the heat under the pan. "I hope not," I said, looking at Guthrie in alarm. "Do you think she might be?"
I could tell that Guthrie was sorry he'd mentioned it at all, and caused me to worry.
"Naw," he said. "Probably not. She most likely just sent in her report."
"She was pretty horrible," I said, thinking back to that day.
"Nothin' pretty about her," Guthrie said, jokingly. "Just plain horrible, that was her."
I poured my hot milk into a cup, and giggled a little. "You're bad, Guth," I told him.
"Hey, I call it like I see it," he said.
Evan, who'd taken out the remaining pie from the refrigerator, was cutting a piece, and scooping it onto the plate.
"Guess I'll go to bed and try to sleep," I said.
"Well, find me at lunch tomorrow at school, and let me know how it went," Guthrie told me.
"I will," I promised. "Night," I told him, and headed towards the living room, carrying my hot drink.
"Night," Guthrie answered.
I was already past Evan, when he said, "Hey," to me.
I turned to look back at him, startled.
"I hope the meeting goes good," he told me, quietly.
I widened my eyes at him. I was actually shocked that he'd made an attempt to talk to me, and that
he wished the meeting well.
I should have been happy about it. I should have said, 'Thank you', politely, and gone on my way. But, truthfully, my
temper flared. He had a lot of nerve, I thought. After all the times I'd tried to talk to him, well, he didn't need to think I'd just
accept his statement, and be grateful for it.
"Maybe it won't go good," I said, and now Evan was the one who looked startled.
"What are you talkin' about, Har?" Guthrie asked, sounding as if he didn't understand what had made me
say such a thing.
"Maybe it won't go good," I said again. "Maybe they'll decide that I need to go live with stupid Karissa. That would
suit you fine, wouldn't it, Evan?"
Evan was staring at me, his expression shocked. Guthrie hopped down from the counter, and came over to
my side. He put a hand on my arm. "Har-" he began.
I felt bad for Guthrie. He was looking all worried at my attitude and my words. But a demon just came over me,
and took over my mouth.
Evan had recovered his speech ability. "No. It wouldn't suit me fine, Harlie," he said, sounding angry.
"Well, why not?" I said, raising my voice to a level seven, at least. "Then I wouldn't be around here,
and you wouldn't have to be worried about me trying to talk to you!"
"Harlie-" Evan began, in a warning tone.
"Because I know what a huge bother it is to you!" I went on. "Having to try to find new ways to avoid me!"
My raised voice had alerted family in the next room, and Brian appeared at the doorway, Hannah behind him.
"What's goin' on?" Brian demanded.
"Not a damn thing," Evan growled, and put the pie pan back into the refrigerator, and shut the door, a little too
hard. He took his plate, with the piece of apple pie on it, and started to stalk past me.
Since the doorway was full of Brian, and Hannah, he paused right in front of me.
"You need to be straightened out, girl," he told me, sounding grim.
"Yeah?" I challenged. "Well, it won't be you doing it, will it? Because in order for that to happen, you'd have
to be my brother! My real brother! Not some fake one!"
"Just forget it," he said, angrily, and then he said, "Excuse me," to Hannah, as he squeezed past her in the
doorway.
As soon as he was gone, and I was looking at the three stunned faces of Guthrie, Brian and Hannah, I promptly
burst into tears.
7
