The dining room table was old and looked like it had seen better days, the scratches telling a long and rich history. The carpets that covered the wood floor gave off a worn, lived-in feeling. Somewhere in another room the Rubber Soul album played, adding to the warm, electic feel of the house.
Beverley came into the room, setting a pot of soup on the table and going back to the stove to set a dish of green beans and a plate of chicken on the table. Every child's glass was filled with milk before Beverley even sat down. "Now," she began, "who wants to pray?"
Beverley insisted on prayer before meals and church on Sundays, desperatly trying to instill the knowledge that God had not forgotten them. Ryan and Sharpay looked down at the table. The tradition was a new and somewhat uncomfortable one, even for the outgoing twins. What did one say to God? At the silence, Beverley smiled and chose one the children, "Sharpay, would you do us the honor?"
"Yes, ma'am," Sharpay replied, beginning her simple litany. "Lord, please bless this bountiful meal that we are about to receive. Amen."
Amens were echoed and the children began dishing up with thanks offered to Beverley as they did. The phone rang, and Beverley quietly got up and answered it. "Hello?"
"Who is it?" implored the twin's foster sister, Winona, "Is it Jesse?"
"Yes, this is she," said Beverley into the phone, waving Winona away while her foster siblings began to tease her. Beverley shushed them. "H-he is? He is. How soon? Uh-huh. Well, what about the twins?" Ryan and Sharpay looked up then. "Right. Yes. He does? Well, I won't allow it, not until much later at least, Ryan's barely recovered. Yes. All right, thank you. All right. You too. Goodbye."
Beverley turned against the wall and sighed. The children all got up slowly wandering over to their foster mother, Ryan taking three-year-old Mickey up in his arms. Sharpay placed a gentle hand on Beverley's arm, while Winona looked up at her, "What's wrong?"
Beverley sighed.