Chapter 4.
Callie
I must have drifted off sometime during the night. When I woke up, Sophia was gone, and I could smell food and hear voices coming from the kitchen. Stretching, I rolled off the couch and went to find her.
"Good morning, Callie," Stef smiled, turning to face me. "Did you sleep okay?"
"I guess so," I shrugged. I wondered why she wasn't in her cop uniform.
Sophia was sitting at the table, picking at a stack of pancakes. I kissed the top of her head.
"Help yourself to whatever you want, sweets," Lena told me.
I went to the counter and poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot on the counter. Stef and Lena looked at each other and raised their eyebrows, but didn't say anything.
"Was I not supposed to take this?" I asked, setting the mug down.
Lena shook her head. "You're fine, honey. We usually don't allow our kids to have coffee, but I guess it's okay this one time."
"Do you want some cream or sugar?" Stef asked me.
"Nah," I said, going to the table and sitting down next to my sister.
"Mariana, I want you to start working on your bedroom right after school," Lena told her daughter. "I'm serious. The beds are being delivered tomorrow."
Mariana rolled her eyes, then put her plate in the sink and rushed out the door. "This isn't over, young lady," Stef called after her.
Lena and the other kids head to school, leaving me and Sophia alone with Stef. "So, here are the plans for today," she told us. "I scheduled both of you to have a physical this morning, and then we'll do some shopping afterward."
"I'm not going to the doctor," I said. I felt the bruises under my shirt ache.
"It's not an option, love," she replied. "We need to make sure you're healthy before we enroll you in school."
"We've had our shots," I told her. "It's not like we have rabies or anything."
Stef suppressed a laugh. "Honey, you're going to the doctor. I took a day off of work, and it's all set. We were lucky to get you both in on short notice."
"Come on, Callie," Sophia pleaded. "Just go. Please?" She looked to me desperately; she wanted our foster mom's approval so badly.
So I gave in. "Fine. I'll go."
"Good girl," Stef nodded. She looked at my sister and frowned. "Aren't you hungry, kiddo? Would you like something else?"
She shook her head. "I'm not hungry. My stomach hurts."
Stef laid her hand on Sophia's forehead; something a mom would do. "You don't feel warm. Good thing we're going to the doctor's today, huh?"
After breakfast, Stef took me aside. "Callie," she whispered. "I know you're probably worried about the doctor seeing those bruises on your body."
I felt my face heat up as she looked me in the eye.
"I understand that, but I don't want you to worry, okay? I'll be right there with you, and our doctor is very nice. But I did schedule you an x-ray, just to make sure you're not injured."
"I'm not... injured," I told her. "I'm fine. I never get sick."
"Well, it's better to be safe than sorry," she replied.
I wished someone had told me that a long time ago.
We arrived at the doctor's office about a half hour later, and she took us in right away.
"Girls, this is Dr. Frank," Stef told us. "She's been our family doctor for many years. Dr. Frank, these are our newest additions, Callie and Sophia."
"Nice to meet you," the doctor smiled. She was short. Shorter than me, with dark, curly hair. She examined Sophia first, taking her blood pressure, shining a light in her eyes. Sophia sat rigid, politely answering when the young woman talked to her.
She looked me over next, just like she had my sister. Then she took two faded gowns from a cupboard and gave one to each of us. "Girls, I need you to strip down to your underwear and put these on, with the opening facing in back. Okay?"
I felt dizzy, like I might faint. I closed my eyes, trying to pull myself together as my line of vision narrowed. I knew what it was; it was a panic attack. I'd learned the signs from the counselor I saw at the group home when we stayed there.
"I'll give you girls some privacy," the doctor said. "I'll check on you shortly."
"Stef, I can't do this," I said, turning to her. "Please don't make me do this." A lump formed in my throat and I couldn't swallow.
Stef's face was drawn. To me, it looked like she was regretting making us come. "I'm sorry, love. I know it's scary, but it's better to get it over with." She held her arms out. "Come here."
I stood still, not moving. Finally, she reached out and put her arms around my stiff body. It felt awkward and unfamiliar, but good. "I don't know who or what you're afraid of," she whispered. "But I will not let anything happen to you. You won't have to answer any questions you don't want to, and I won't leave your side for a minute. You can trust me."
I nodded weakly, and she let me go. She pointed to the bathroom that was attached to the room. "Go ahead and change. I'll be right out here if you need me."
"I'm scared," Sophia told me, once we'd locked ourselves in the tiny room. "I don't want to do this."
"Me either," I admitted, my heart thumping so loud in my chest that I was sure she could hear it. I watched her undress as I pulled my own shirt over my head. Her thighs and stomach were marked with pale bruises, but they weren't nearly as bad as mine. Mine were kind that brought social workers out. I looked at my reflection in the mirror above the sink, and before I could stop myself, I started crying.
"Callie," Sophia said, coming to my side. Her gown was baggy around her skinny body. Gently, she rubbed my back. "Don't cry, sissy. Please." She hadn't called me 'sissy' in years. She wet a paper towel and used it to wash my face for me. "It's okay." She hugged me and kissed my bruised cheek. She rarely saw me cry. I knew I was scaring her.
Stef knocked on the bathroom door. "Are you girls okay in there?"
"We're fine," I called, finally starting to get my breathing in check. "We'll be out in a minute." I took off my jeans, so I was left in my saggy, frayed underwear, and slipped on the ugly gown.
I knew that Stef could tell I'd been crying by the way she looked at me. She laid her hand over mine while we waited for Dr. Frank to come back.
Finally, she did. She checked our backs for scoliosis, and she listened to our lungs. "You have some pretty bad bruises, Callie," she told me, as she ran the cold stethoscope down my back.
I shivered at her touch. "I don't want to talk about it."
"We're dealing with the situation," Stef put in, moving closer to me and putting her hand on my shoulder.
Dr. Frank nodded. "I know Callie and Sophia are in good hands with you and Lena."
"Thank you," she smiled. "We're happy to have them with us, for however long that may be."
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Stef said, when we got to the car.
"What did the doctor write about us?" Sophia asked, trying to sneak a peek at the paper Dr. Frank had given our foster mom on the way out.
"It says you're basically healthy," she told us. "Sophia, your vitamin D levels are a little low. We'll pick you up some vitamins today. And Callie, you have some rib contusions."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means your ribs are bruised," she told me. "But they'll heal. It also says you have an old wrist fracture that healed well. What happened there? Do you remember?"
"Foster home number three," I answered without going into detail. But in my mind, I saw my former foster mom grabbing my arm and throwing me down the back steps.
"Neither of you have anything lots of love won't cure," Stef assured us with a wink, looking back at us in the rear-view mirror.
We drove for a while, until she pulled into a Target parking lot. "Ready to shop, ladies?"
"We get to shop in a real store?" Sophia asked. I laughed a little, starting to feel better; Sophia was used to shopping at secondhand stores or getting my hand-me-downs. I was glad she was finally getting something new, something of her very own. I hoped she would be allowed to keep it when we left.
"We sure do, my love," Stef answered, grabbing her purse and leading us inside.
"Why don't we pick out an outfit for each of you to wear on your first day of school?" she suggested when we reached the clothing department. "And I noticed your underwear looked worn out, so we'll grab you each some new panties and socks."
We shopped for a long time, wandering around the clothing racks. I'd already found a pair of jeans and I was looking through the tops.
"That's cute," Stef said, noticing a t-shirt I was looking at. It was gray, with an owl on the front.
"It's too much," I said, studying the price tag.
"But it's you," she insisted. "And it's on sale. At least try it on?"
"Well, okay," I said, giving in.
When I stepped out of the changing rooms, Stef stood behind me in the long mirror. She pulled my hair back from my face and smiled. "Callie, you are a beautiful girl."
"I don't feel beautiful," I confided. It was probably the most personal thing I'd ever told her.
"Nonsense," she said, brushing my words away. "Look at those eyes, and those cheekbones. Do you know how many women would kill for your eyebrows?"
Standing there in the mirror, I felt myself tear up again.
"What is it, baby?" she whispered.
"Nothing," I said, turning away. But she brought me to the bench and held my hands.
"I wish you would open up to us, love. You would feel so, so much better."
"I can't," I said.
"At least tell me this," she bargained. "Who gave you those bruises? I know someone put their hands on you, Callie."
I chewed my sore lip, trying to avoid her gaze. But I couldn't. It was as if she could see into my soul.
"Please, love?"
"It was my foster dad," I admitted. I immediately wished I could take my words back. I'd practically threatened Sophia to keep her mouth shut about our past, and here, it was me who was blabbing. I felt like a traitor.
Stef nodded. "I think we should report him to social services before he hurts another child, don't you?"
"We can't," I told her.
"Callie, I have no choice," she insisted. "He shouldn't be allowed to foster. He should be in prison."
"No" I sighed angrily. "You don't understand. We can't report him. He's dead."
To Be Continued