Chapter 18.
Callie
"Try that chord again," said Brandon. "You almost had it. Loosen your fingers jusssst a little." He carefully readjusted my fingers, just slightly, against the guitar strings. "That's better." He'd had the idea after dinner to give me guitar lessons, and I was really enjoying myself. Playing the guitar brought back memories of my mother. Not sad, bittersweet ones, but happy ones. Things I wanted to remember.
"Okay." I imitated what he'd showed me, and it sounded almost right.
"That was great," he said, breaking out in a grin. "You're doing awesome, Cal."
"I didn't do it right," I sighed, frustrated. "I can't remember anything."
"Keep practicing," he encouraged. "You're just a little rusty." He took the guitar back and showed me another chord. "This one's a little easier. Give it a try."
Lena looked over at us from the kitchen table, where she was helping my sister with her math homework. "Guys, could you please take your lesson to another room?" she asked. "We really need to get these worksheets done."
Brandon turned to me and shrugged. "Okay. You want to go out to the garage?"
"Actually," I said, setting the guitar down carefully, "maybe we can pick this up tomorrow? I kind of want to go to bed early tonight." It had been a long day, and I kind of wanted to talk to Mariana. She's gone upstairs early, too. I wanted to catch her before she went to sleep.
"Sure," he nodded. "It's cool." He stood up and headed out to the garage by himself, and I wandered up the stairs. I stood outside Mariana's door and knocked.
"Yeah?" she called.
"It's Callie," I answered. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," she called back. "Door's open."
I went inside, and saw my foster sister sitting at her computer. Just before she minimized the window, I could see that she was chatting with someone named Ana. She was talking to her birth mom."How's that going?" I asked, pointing to the screen.
She blushed a little. "It's going fine."
Something about the situation still made me feel strange inside, like it had when I first found out Mariana was communicating with Ana, but I could tell she didn't want to talk about it with me, and I didn't want to step on her toes again now that we were getting along better.
"You can sit down," she said, eager to change the subject.
"Thanks." I took a seat on the bed, and she pushed her chair over closer.
"So, what's up?" she asked.
"I just wanted to ask you about something." I shuffled around a little, unsure of where to start. ""When Lena was talking to me the other day about why I should go to therapy, she mentioned that you saw one when you were younger, because you had panic attacks."
Mariana's brow creased. "She told you that?"
"Yeah," I nodded. Maybe mentioning it wasn't such a good idea. "She was just trying to make me feel better," I said. "I have them too."
"Oh," she nodded. She looked down into her lap, not speaking. "I don't think about those days too much anymore," she finally told me. "Why? What do you want to know?"
"Like, did it really help?" I asked her. "I don't want to feel this way anymore."
"I think it did," she told me. "I mean, it's probably different for you. I was just a little kid. But I think, you have to make it work for you, you know? It's not an instant fix, and you have to really accept the help. It's one of those things where you only get out what you put in, I guess."
"Oh," I said. "Thanks." Her advice made sense. I hadn't done much but show up to my sessions with the counselor at the group home, and it obviously didn't help me. I just wasn't the most open person when it came to sharing my feelings. Especially with a stranger who wrote down everything I said.
"Don't worry," she smiled. "It's not the end of the world. It gets better."
"I hope so," I said.
"Is there anything else you want to know?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I think I'm good for now. Thanks, Mariana."
"No problem," she said, turning back to her computer.
I stood up. "I'm gonna head to bed. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she called back.
I walked down the hall to my room, yawning. But when I opened my dresser drawer, I discovered I didn't have anything to wear to bed. My (really, Stef's) pajamas were in the laundry. I shut the drawer and went to her room to see if she would lend me something.
The door was open, and I could see her inside, so I poked my head in. "Stef?" I crossed the threshold, then stopped in my tracks.
Stef was crying. Sobbing, actually.
"I'm sorry," I stammered, reaching behind me fore the doorknob. "I should have knocked." I started to turn away.
She held her hand up to stop me. "Wait, honey. You're okay." She patted the bed. "Come here. Sit with me."
I crossed the room, feeling a little uncomfortable, like I'd interrupted her in a deeply personal moment. I'd seen her cry before, but it still felt weird. "Are you okay?" I asked, sitting down. I searched her face carefully, without being too obvious. Her green eyes were red-rimmed, and her cheeks were tear-stained.
"I'm fine," she laughed, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand and drying her eyes.
"Why were you crying?"
"Oh, I think today just got to me," she said, putting her arm around me and rubbing my back. "I've been thinking a lot about you and your sister."
"What about us?" I wanted to know. In the back of my mind, I felt that familiar pang of fear that everything wasn't going to be alright. I felt as if I were always holding my breath. I wondered if I'd ever be able to let it out.
"Oh, you know," she said, still kneading my shoulder. "All you've been through. How much I love you." She smiled, and fresh tears filled her eyes. "How happy I am that you're going to be my daughters."
I felt like I had to do something. It was sort of embarrassing, seeing her get so emotional like that. But it dawned on me that she wanted me near her. She wouldn't have asked me in if she didn't. Maybe, the right thing to do was to comfort her? After all, she always comforted me.
Cautiously, I placed my hand on her shoulder, waiting to see how she'd react. "I- I'm really happy that you're adopting us," I said.
She didn't push me away. She smiled through her tears, and cupped her hand over mine. Feeling much braver, I pulled my hand away and laid my head against her, wrapping my arms around her waist.
"Thanks, slug-a-bug," she said. She kissed the side of my head. "I needed that."
I held her for several minutes. We didn't speak. It was one of those times when you didn't need to.
When I finally pulled away, I looked up at her. "Um, I kind of came in for something," I told her.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I don't have any clean pajamas," I explained. "I was wondering if, maybe, you had something I could wear?"
"Of course, love," she nodded. "Sit tight, and I'll grab you something." She went to her dresser and took out pajama shorts and a faded Padres t-shirt. "Will this work?"
"Yeah, it's fine," I nodded. "Thanks."
"We'll have to go pajama shopping soon," she smiled. "Hey! Why don't you change in our bathroom, then come back in here for a while. I could use a snuggle from my girl."
"Sure," I said happily. I was someone's girl again.
Stef
Callie came back into the room dressed in the pajamas I'd given her, and tentatively climbed up on the bed and beside me. I took her in my arms and kissed her. "There you are."
"Hey, I'm sorry for walking in on you earlier," she apologized. "I didn't know you were... you know."
"Crying?"
"Yeah," she nodded.
"Don't worry about it, honey," I said. "I'm not mad or anything."
"I feel embarrassed when I cry," she told me, blushing. "It makes me feel weak."
"I feel the same way sometimes," I confided. "But you know what? It's okay to cry. It really is. It not always comfortable to wear your heart on your sleeve, but sometimes, you just have to, and there's not shame in it."
"I wish I'd been called to the scene that night," I told her quietly. What Mike described to me had hit me hard, as a mother. All I could see when I closed my eyes were my babies, alone and broken, with no one to tell them it was going to be okay. They needed a mama that night.
"You mean the night of the shooting?" she asked, rolling her brown eyes up to look at me.
I nodded, pulling her a little closer. "If I'd been there, I would've cuddled you and talked to you," I said, brushing my hand over her hair. "Heck," I laughed. "I would have brought you home with me then and there."
"That would've been nice," Callie said, closing her eyes for a moment, her angelic face becoming peaceful.
"Obviously, I can't change what's already happened," I told her. "I wish I could take all your pain away, but I can't. All I can do is promise you that no one will ever hurt you like that again."
She nodded, her eyes still closed.
"How are you holding up, baby?" I asked her. "I know today was rough on you too."
"I guess I'm okay for now," she answered. "I mean, it's out of my hands."
"You haven't had any night terrors in a while," I realized. "That's pretty good."
Her eyes fluttered open. "Well, I haven't really been sleeping much," she said. "But I'm tired tonight."
"Then go ahead and close your eyes," I whispered. "It's okay."
She did, and within minutes, she was sound asleep in my arms. Careful not to disturb her, I brushed my lips against her cheek. "I love you."
Lena
The next day, after school, Stef and I took Callie and Sophia out to buy things for their room- just the four of us. We watched them look over paint chip after paint chip, trying to decide which color to choose. Sophia wanted pink, her favorite color, and Callie wanted aqua. Finally, they compromised, and settled on periwinkle, a soft blue with a hint of purple. Even Stef agreed that it was beautiful. We hoped that being surrounded by such a peaceful color would help them relax at night.
On the way home, Stef told the girls the news we'd been sitting on all day. "So, I called Bill this morning, and told him what we want to do," she smiled, looking back at them in the mirror. "About adopting you."
"You did?" Callie asked, her eyes widening. "What did he say?"
"He was very happy," she said. "So, we're gonna get the paperwork started right away."
"How long will it take?" Sophia asked her, bouncing in her seat a little.
"A few months?" I guessed. "I know that seems like a long time, but I promise, it'll fly by."
"This is so great," said Sophia, smiling from ear to ear. "First we had no moms, and now we're gonna have two."
"And we're gonna have two more beautiful daughters," said Stef, with a wink. "How did we get so lucky, mama?"
"I don't know," I answered, just as we pulled onto our street.
When we reached our driveway, we saw an unfamiliar car, and a man and woman who looked like they might be social workers standing on the front porch, talking to Mariana and Brandon.
"What's going on?" Stef asked no one in particular, as she parked the car.
We got out and hurried to the porch, though it felt like we were moving in slow motion. "Can we help you?" I asked.
"Yes," said the man, flashing a badge. "We have some questions for Callie and Sophia Jacob."
Sophia whimpered and shrunk against me. I wrapped my arms around her protectively.
"You let mama and I do the talking, okay?" Stef whispered to Callie, taking her hand and squeezing it. "It'll be alright."
To Be Continued