67

EXACTLY 3:02 IN THE AFTERNOON,
THURSDAY, JANUARY 13TH

Maura’s eyes are thin like cuts. She leans forward. “I already know what happened,” she says. “I’m only asking because I want to see whether or not you’re going to lie to me. Now, did you steal someone’s chocolate yesterday at school?”

I don’t like it when people get close to my face. I don’t like the feeling of people’s breath on my lips and nose.

I remember what Patrice said about people who are yelling at me. I turn my head and close my eyes. I do not move forward at all.

“Yes!” I say. And open one eye to peek.

Maura leans back. Her eyes are regular again. I let out a breath. “Good,” she says. “That was the smartest thing you could have possibly said. But I told you no more incidents the other day, and this is an incident. A big incident, Ginny. We don’t steal in this family.”

I want to say something but I decide not to. I want to say a lot of things but I will not.

“Grammy is coming over right now to watch Wendy. You and I are going to the store.”

“Why?” I say.

“You’re going to buy a new bar of chocolate for Michelle,” she says. “With your own money.”

“Why do I have to use my own money?”

“Because you stole. When you steal something, you have to give it back or replace it. Now, go get ready to go.”

She makes a loud breathing sound and hits her hand on the counter. I jump.

“Why do you have to pull something like this? Don’t you have any control over yourself at all? Don’t you know right from wrong? We’ve taught you to have good habits and to respect other people. We’ve taught you how to—But, Ginny, I don’t have time for any more nonsense! I don’t have time to talk with guidance counselors or angry parents on the phone. I have an infant to take care of and a husband in the hospital. And you pull something like this?”

Baby Wendy is still asleep when Grammy comes. I put my scarf and gloves and hat and coat on. Then we get in the car and drive. Maura gives me my money. She keeps it in a box in the closet in her bedroom. She and Brian don’t let me keep money in my room because they think I’ll take it to school and might lose it. Or someone will take it from me.

At the drugstore we look through the candy aisle. I find a candy bar that matches the one I ate. It costs ninety-eight cents. I would like to eat it so I ask Maura if I can get two—one for me and one for Michelle Whipple—and she says no, that would defeat the whole point. Then I ask if I can split it with her and she still says no. So I pick up the candy bar and we bring it to the cash register. I don’t want to put it down on the counter. I want to hold it and keep on holding it and open it and put it in my mouth. It will be delicious. But Maura looks at me and says, “Ginny, it’s time to put the candy bar down.” So I do.

The lady behind the counter picks it up and scans it with a red light. Then she says, “Ninety-eight cents.” I take a twenty-dollar bill out of my pocket and say, “Here,” and drop it on the counter.

“Ginny, that’s not how we hand something to someone,” Maura says. Then to the lady she says, “I’m sorry, my—Ginny is special.”

The lady nods her head and makes a half smile with her mouth.

“She’s adopted,” Maura says.

“Really?” says the lady. “How long has she been with you?”

“About two years,” says Maura.

“Wow!” says the lady. “I have a cousin who just adopted a baby from Korea. It’s such a beautiful thing, adoption. It’s the most unselfish thing a person can do. And you adopted a teenager! I don’t think anyone could resist adopting a baby if they were in a position to do something like that, but it takes a really selfless person to adopt a teenager. And a special one to boot.”

Then the lady looks at me. “Your mom is really awesome,” she says. And then, “Do you call her that? Mom, I mean?”

Maura looks at me. “No,” I say.

Then I pick up the money. I pinch a tiny corner and lift it. I hold it out to her. “Here,” I say again.

The lady takes it and puts it in the drawer of her cash register. She gives me a ten-dollar bill and a five-dollar bill and then four one-dollar bills and two pennies.

And I say, “Seriously?”

“Is something wrong?” says the lady.

“What is it, Ginny?” Maura says.

“That woman gave me a ten-dollar bill and a five-dollar bill and four one-dollar bills and two pennies,” I say.

“That’s your change,” Maura says. “Put it in your pocket so we can go home.”

I put the money in my pocket and we go back to the car. Now I have a lot more money than I had before. Gloria will be excited. I’m guessing she never knew how to make money by buying things. My new trick will help us get money when we go up to Canada. Getting money was always hard for her. That was why she liked free things so much. When we were living in the Green Car before my Baby Doll came we used to go to the grocery store when it was time to eat. We would get free cookie samples from the bakery. Or slices of meat from the deli. Virginia smoked ham was my favorite. Could I have another piece of that Virginia smoked ham? Gloria used to say. My daughter is a picky eater. I want to see if she likes it.

But after a while the people in the grocery store stopped giving us free samples. A man in a blue coat came out from behind a door and asked Gloria to shop somewhere else so she got mad and yelled at him and in the parking lot she peeled out.

We’ll just have to expand our range, she said to me when we were driving out of the parking lot.

“Ginny?”

I come up out of my brain. I am not in the Green Car. “What?”

“Do you understand that it’s wrong to take things that aren’t yours?”

I nod my head yes even though I know sometimes you have to.

“We have plenty to eat at the Blue House. You don’t have to take food or hide it anymore. If you want to bring an extra snack to school, you have to tell me,” she says. “We can’t have any more incidents. It’s all just too much. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say.