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Chapter 2.
Callie
"Would you like to help me set the table, sweets?" Lena asked Sophia.
Sophia nodded. She seemed more relaxed now. "Sure." She went to our new foster mother and took a stack of dishes from her. She held them so tight, her knuckles were white. I watched her set the stack on the table, and carefully set a plate at each place, chewing her lower lip. Her relaxed demeanor was gone. I could see the tension in her shoulders. These were nice dishes, and she was terrified that she would accidentally break one and get the snot beat out of her.
"Let me help you," I offered, feeling sorry for her. I took the dishes. There were a lot of them. I silently counted. One for me, Sophia, Lena, her partner, and... three more. So they had three kids. They probably weren't in the market for any more. I was sorting the silverware when the back door opened and closed.
"Hey, kids," Lena smiled. Two out of the three of the kids waved at her. They both had dark hair and eyes. They looked alike. Natural siblings, like me and Sophia. "I want you to meet our house guests. This is Callie, and Sophia. They're going to be staying with us for a while."
The girl studied me up and down, as if she didn't trust me.
Lena turned to us. "Girls, this is our son, Jesus, and our daughter, Mariana. They're fifteen."
Just then, another teenage boy came into the room. A cute teenage boy, with wavy brown hair and eyes the color of green sea glass. "This is our oldest, Brandon," Lena told us. "Callie, you and Brandon will be in the same grade at school, so he can show you around."
I nodded, a little sorry I swore off boys recently. "Cool."
"Who are they?" Brandon asked his mom.
"Callie and Sophia Jacob," Lena reminded him. "Bill brought them by today."
"Oh yeah," he nodded. "I forgot they were coming today." He reached across the table and served us each a piece of lasagna. I picked at the food, my stomach in knots.
"Jesus and Mariana were in the foster system too," Lena told us as she ate. "We formally adopted them about five years ago."
Sophia smiled, but her face looked sad. I looked down at my food, avoiding her eyes. "How old were you guys when you went into foster care?" she asked.
"Five," said Jesus, stuffing a hunk of garlic bread into his mouth.
Lena raised an eyebrow at him. "Please don't talk with your mouth full, buddy."
"Sorry," he mumbled, swallowing. "How about you guys?"
"I was six, and Callie was ten," she told him. "Hey... are you guys twins?"
Jesus nodded, then turned his attention to me. "What happened to your face?"
Lena shook her head. "Jesus, please. Let Callie eat without an interrogation."
"I got into a fight," I told him. My busted lip caused me to lisp slightly, and my stringy brown hair made a curtain around my face. I reached for my water glass and took a sip, hoping he would drop the subject.
"Did you win?"
"Uh, no, I didn't." My arm jerked, and the glass tipped over. Water puddled in the middle of the table, soaking the garlic bread. Lena jumped up immediately and grabbed a handful of napkins.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, angry at myself for screwing up when I had barely been in the house for an hour. My body tensed, and I waited for the slap I had coming to me. It never came.
"Don't worry about it, sweets," said Lena, giving me a look of sympathy. A mom look, I thought. "Accidents happen." She mopped up the spill and threw the napkins away.
I wondered what kind of foster home this was. At Brian's house, I would've been licking the water up, or something humiliating like that. I pushed thoughts of Brian out of my head as my food churned in my stomach. He was gone. He couldn't hurt us anymore.
Everyone went back to eating when the back door burst open again. "Hello, my loves!" a voice cried.
"Callie and Sophia, this is my partner, Stef Foster," Lena said. She stood up to kiss her.
My eyes widened. Holy shit! She was a cop.
I saw the color drain from my sister's face, and her eyes fixated on the gun in Stef's holster. I reached under the table to hold her hand, like I always did. It was our special signal, to let her know that she was safe as long as I was there. But before I could take her hand, Stef came up to us, smiling. "Hi, girls. I hope you're ready for this crazy house."
Sophia's eyes were still glued to the gun. She jumped up, knocking her chair over, and backed away. "Sophia," I sighed. "Wait." She was already down the hall.
"I'll check on her," Lena offered, setting down her napkin.
"No," I said, more forcefully than I meant to. "Let me. She's my sister." She was my responsibility. She had been since I was ten. I knew how to take care of her.
I followed the hall to the bathroom and tried the knob. It was locked. "Soph," I said, knocking. "It's just me. Open up." I could hear her crying behind the door. "Please, baby," I sighed. "I promise, it's okay."
Stef joined me seconds later. "Was it something I said?" She seemed hurt, and I felt a little sorry for her.
I shook my head. "No," I said quietly. "It's what you are."
She studied me, confused.
"She's just afraid of cops," I explained. "It's nothing personal."
Stef nodded knowingly. "I see." She knocked softly on the door. "Sophia, love? I didn't mean to scare you. But I wasn't going to hurt you. I need you to open the door. Yes?"
The door opened a crack, and I barged in and took Sophia in my arms. "It's okay," I told her.
"Honey, I'm a nice cop," Stef told Sophia. "I promise, you're safe here." She brushed a tear from my sister's face.
Sophia flinched. "Get that gun away from me."
Stef looked down at her belt. "Okay. I will go lock it up right now. Will that make you feel safer?"
She nodded against my chest.
"Okay, then I will," she smiled. She turned to me. "Can you take it from here, Callie?"
"Yeah," I said, shaking my head.
"Way to play it cool," I whispered, once Stef was out of earshot. I ruffled her hair to let her know I wasn't mad.
"I just panicked," she sniffled, her breathing slowing. "Callie, we have to get out of here. She's a cop! What if this is a set-up?'
I didn't tell her that the thought had crossed my mind too. "It can't be," I said, trying to think logically. "What happened was ruled an accident. Remember?" I lowered my voice even more. "We just need to be extra careful. No taking chances." I took her chin in my hand and kissed her cheek. "I love you, baby girl. And I won't let anything bad happen to us. Do you trust me?"
"Yes," she said. "I love you too, Callie." She hugged me tighter for a moment.
"Come on," I said. "We better go back."
After dinner, I took a bath in Stef and Lena's bathroom. The water felt good, and I scrubbed my skin until it was pink and sore, trying to get as clean as I could on the outside. No amount of soap could make me feel clean on the inside. When I stepped out of the tub, I stood in front of the mirror and dried off, smoothing my freshly washed hair until it looked halfway decent. When it dried, it would be soft and wavy.
I jumped when I saw Stef's reflection behind me, standing in the bathroom doorway. Her hand was over her mouth. "What do you think you're doing!" I cried, wrapping a towel around myself. My face reddened. I knew she'd seen the bruises on my back, ribs, shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Callie," Stef said. "I didn't mean to walk in on you. I just wanted to leave you some pajamas and a toothbrush. Sophia said you didn't have one." She came closer. "Oh, honey... who did that to you?"
Stef was kind of pretty when she was dressed in normal clothes, with her blond hair loose. Her eyes were the same shade of green as Brandon's. She looked as if she wanted to cry. Over me. Seeing her like that, it would have been easy to forget she was a cop.
"No one," I lied. "I'm fine." I smiled to prove it. "I'm just clumsy."
"Callie, we want you and your sister to feel safe here," she said, without even trying to hide the fact that she didn't believe my story. "If you ever want someone to talk to, you can come to me or Lena. Whether it's about... how you got those bruises, or anything else. We'll listen to you."
She looked me straight in the eye and smiled softly. There was something about her face that made me want to crawl into her arms and let her hold me, something I hadn't done since my mother was alive. I was way too old for that stuff now, and I had too much to hide. When she reached out to stroke my hair, I bristled under her touch. "Could I get some privacy? Please," I added.
"Of course you can," she said. "The pajamas are right on the counter. They're an old pair of mine. They might be a little loose on you, but they should do until we can get you some new clothes."
New clothes? I raised my eyebrow.
"Goodnight, honey," she said, before turning away and closing the door behind her.
To Be Continued