only temporarily
removed from a home, waiting for a family member to come and get
them. But in this case, the new kid was in the custody of Family
and Children’s Services. This was different.
“And then the big day came. We didn’t know
when to expect you, so Mrs. B sat me down with my lunch. I remember
hearing the car pull up just as I took the first bite of my
sandwich. Mrs. B wouldn’t let me go to the door and ‘ogle’ the new
kid, so I had to sit at the table and strain to see out the front
windows. Mrs. B went outside to speak with Mrs. Harris, and she
sent you in.
“The first thing that caught my attention was
the black trash bag. You held it in front of you like a shield, I
thought. None of the other fosters had come without at least a
backpack or gym bag. It was another sign that things were different
with you. You held that bag without a thought, looking around the
kitchen with that cool, but ever-so-fearfully-hopeful expression I
mentioned earlier. You had on faded green cargo shorts that were
too baggy and a yellow T-shirt with a ketchup stain on it. You wore
your hair tied back in a ponytail with some cheap, plastic, yellow
sunglasses pushed up on your head. Some beat-up, off-brand sneaks
on your feet. And there was a scrape on your right knee and that
vicious bruise under your left eye.
“I remember being awed. This is the face of
courage, I thought . This is a girl who hasn’t had someone
who would or could buy her a decent piece of luggage. A girl whose
every last possession fits into a black trash bag. A girl who has
literally taken a punch and is standing in front of me looking like
she’s ready to fight the next fight.”
Amber listened, the emotion caused by his
narration gripping her tightly around the throat. His scent
enveloped her, a welcome balm.
“You were the most amazing girl I had ever
met, and we hadn’t even spoken,” he said. “The sight of you knocked
the wind out of me. And I knew instantly that you were meant for
me.”
He shifted so he could lift her chin up and
look into her eyes. “Of course, I took the safe route and offered
you half of my sandwich instead of professing my undying love and
devotion right then and there. And once I got to know you, I
figured out you would tell me I was full of it if I ever told you
that.”
An unexpected laugh escaped her. “You have
always known me better than anyone.”
He smiled. “Of course I have.”
“You’re my best friend,” she said softly.
“You and Mrs. B are all the family I have, and you’ve stood by me,
even during…”
“Why don’t we call them The Incidents?
Capital T, capital I?”
She managed a smile over his deliberately
cheerful tone, though the topic was hardly one to be treated
lightly and they both knew it. She sighed. “I know we need to
discuss that, and soon. But for now, I just want this to be…”
“About us,” he finished.
“Yeah.” She touched the side of his face,
felt the hint of stubble there. She saw emotion and moonlight
reflected in his eyes. “As I said, you’re my best friend, Gabriel.
I’ve loved you for years.”
Stunned, he said, “You’ve never said that
before.”
“I know.” Her expression was somber. “I don’t
think I could. Loving you as my best friend was one thing. Being in
love with you is another, much bigger thing.”
“Ah.” He grinned. “Would this ‘much bigger
thing’ involve kissing on a regular basis?”
She leaned up toward his lips in
response.
The next morning, Mrs. B sat drinking her tea
and reading the paper. Amber got up before Gabriel and shuffled
into the kitchen to get herself a glass of orange juice.
“Good morning,” Mrs. B said, looking at Amber
over her reading glasses. “How was the party?”
Amber closed the refrigerator after replacing
the juice carton. “It was okay.”
Raising an eyebrow, Mrs. B repeated, “‘Okay?’
Did I just hear that correctly? Not ‘lame,’ ‘a waste of time,’
removed from a home, waiting for a family member to come and get
them. But in this case, the new kid was in the custody of Family
and Children’s Services. This was different.
“And then the big day came. We didn’t know
when to expect you, so Mrs. B sat me down with my lunch. I remember
hearing the car pull up just as I took the first bite of my
sandwich. Mrs. B wouldn’t let me go to the door and ‘ogle’ the new
kid, so I had to sit at the table and strain to see out the front
windows. Mrs. B went outside to speak with Mrs. Harris, and she
sent you in.
“The first thing that caught my attention was
the black trash bag. You held it in front of you like a shield, I
thought. None of the other fosters had come without at least a
backpack or gym bag. It was another sign that things were different
with you. You held that bag without a thought, looking around the
kitchen with that cool, but ever-so-fearfully-hopeful expression I
mentioned earlier. You had on faded green cargo shorts that were
too baggy and a yellow T-shirt with a ketchup stain on it. You wore
your hair tied back in a ponytail with some cheap, plastic, yellow
sunglasses pushed up on your head. Some beat-up, off-brand sneaks
on your feet. And there was a scrape on your right knee and that
vicious bruise under your left eye.
“I remember being awed. This is the face of
courage, I thought . This is a girl who hasn’t had someone
who would or could buy her a decent piece of luggage. A girl whose
every last possession fits into a black trash bag. A girl who has
literally taken a punch and is standing in front of me looking like
she’s ready to fight the next fight.”
Amber listened, the emotion caused by his
narration gripping her tightly around the throat. His scent
enveloped her, a welcome balm.
“You were the most amazing girl I had ever
met, and we hadn’t even spoken,” he said. “The sight of you knocked
the wind out of me. And I knew instantly that you were meant for
me.”
He shifted so he could lift her chin up and
look into her eyes. “Of course, I took the safe route and offered
you half of my sandwich instead of professing my undying love and
devotion right then and there. And once I got to know you, I
figured out you would tell me I was full of it if I ever told you
that.”
An unexpected laugh escaped her. “You have
always known me better than anyone.”
He smiled. “Of course I have.”
“You’re my best friend,” she said softly.
“You and Mrs. B are all the family I have, and you’ve stood by me,
even during…”
“Why don’t we call them The Incidents?
Capital T, capital I?”
She managed a smile over his deliberately
cheerful tone, though the topic was hardly one to be treated
lightly and they both knew it. She sighed. “I know we need to
discuss that, and soon. But for now, I just want this to be…”
“About us,” he finished.
“Yeah.” She touched the side of his face,
felt the hint of stubble there. She saw emotion and moonlight
reflected in his eyes. “As I said, you’re my best friend, Gabriel.
I’ve loved you for years.”
Stunned, he said, “You’ve never said that
before.”
“I know.” Her expression was somber. “I don’t
think I could. Loving you as my best friend was one thing. Being in
love with you is another, much bigger thing.”
“Ah.” He grinned. “Would this ‘much bigger
thing’ involve kissing on a regular basis?”
She leaned up toward his lips in
response.
The next morning, Mrs. B sat drinking her tea
and reading the paper. Amber got up before Gabriel and shuffled
into the kitchen to get herself a glass of orange juice.
“Good morning,” Mrs. B said, looking at Amber
over her reading glasses. “How was the party?”
Amber closed the refrigerator after replacing
the juice carton. “It was okay.”
Raising an eyebrow, Mrs. B repeated, “‘Okay?’
Did I just hear that correctly? Not ‘lame,’ ‘a waste of time,’
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