CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Unlike Grandma, I added nothing to my room at Paula and Greg’s house to make it any homier. Because it was never going to be home. They’d move me to the next spot eventually. I’d move into another nondescript house on a random street to sleep in a beige bedroom with an empty dresser and an old bed that had been slept in by countless others.
I went to school with a smile pasted on my face.
I worried about Grandma.
I hung out with Ryan and Thomas.
I did my chores and my homework.
I let Lucy sleep in my room.
But I didn’t join any clubs.
I didn’t try out for the play.
I didn’t get to know Paula or Greg beyond what we talked about at meals.
I didn’t make friends with the kids next door.
Because any second, that doorbell could ring and Cynthia from Children’s Aid could be standing there, waiting to take me to the next place.
But there was one commitment I kept and that was to Lucy. Every night after dinner, we worked on her mother’s birthday gift—a frame for Lucy’s school photo. We had a cheap frame that we had glued plastic gems to in a rainbow pattern. We had finally finished it tonight, and it was sitting downstairs, packaged and ready to be dropped in the mailbox in the morning.
There was a knock on my bedroom door.
“Come in.”
Lucy poked her head in.
“Sleepover?” she chirped.
“Sure,” I told her. She ran in, clutching her pillow and her stuffed dog, Walter, against her chest. She dove onto the bed and slithered under the blanket.
“Tuck!” she demanded.
I got off my twin bed and walked to the other one. I tucked the blanket around her so she became a little baby burrito with only her head visible.
“Is Walter comfy?” I asked.
“Yes.” She giggled. “He likes being a burrito.”
“Okay then. Sleep tight, little burrito.”
“Sleep tight,” she said, yawning and closing her eyes.
I turned the lamp off and got into the other bed.
“Lucky?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you,” Lucy called out sleepily.
I rolled over.
“I love you too, Lucy.”