with JoJo made her squirm. JoJo wasn’t like the other foster moms.
Jonathan snorted. “It’s a good thing you’re a good mom, because you’re a pretty snotty foster kid. And a crappy sister. And you don’t know what a bull looks like. Or a rooster...”
“Shut up.”
Later that night, freshly scrubbed, stuffed with lasagna and cozied up in bed with the twins, Allie felt the knot in her chest loosen. She felt herself drifting off. She pinched her own arm, trying to keep herself awake.
She couldn’t fall asleep. Not yet. JoJo and Arthur were still downstairs watching a show. Allie needed to stay awake until they went to bed. She had to trade the books she’d read for new ones. Then she had to stay awake to read. Once they’d moved back home, she’d never see JoJo’s library again. There were so many beautiful books crammed into that amazing room. She needed to read as many as possible. She was running out of time.
CHAPTER 8
Allie took a deep breath and willed her hands to stop shaking. She’d stayed up way too late reading. She’d taken a book on first aid, one about decorating homes on a budget, and a novel called Little Women . And she’d read them all. She was a fast reader, but it still took her until 4 o’clock in the morning to finish. Then Madeleine had prodded her awake at 6. Now she was dragging herself through what felt like the longest day of her life. She was tired. Really really tired.
And that wasn’t the worst of it. They had to be at Stone’s office by dinnertime to see their mom. Problem was, Mom was, well, Mom . Allie didn’t know if she’d be sober and chatty. Or drunk and snarly. Or something in the middle.
And whatever state she was in, the workers would be recording it all. With some families, social workers actually recorded the visits so they’d have proof of how crappy the parents were. So they could show the DVDs to a judge. Allie’s family was one of those families.
Allie stifled a yawn and tried—again—to stop her hands from shaking. She had to pretend everything was okay, so Luke and Madeleine would stay happy and calm. Otherwise, the whole evening would be a mess.
“Stand still, Madeleine, I’m almost done.” Allie stuck the comb in her mouth and grabbed more bobby pins. She was trying to tame Madeleine’s long, scraggly hair so it would look pretty for their visit.
“I don’t want a bench braid. I hate them.” Madeleine tried to sneak away, but Allie pulled the squirmy kid right back.
“It’s called a French braid, and it’s going to look beautiful,” Allie said, as she pulled the comb out of her mouth. “Now stand still so I can get it done.”
Gales of laughter told Allie that Luke was no longer where she’d left him. “Luke! Get back in the tub!” she yelled.
“I’m not Luke,” Luke said, as he tiptoed past Allie and Madeleine. “I’m Bubble Boy.”
And he was. Luke had piled heaps of bubbles on his head, and had used them like undies to cover his private parts. He was tiptoeing through the kitchen toward the back door, trying to hang onto handfuls of bubbles so they wouldn’t slip down his legs and expose him.
Allie finished the braid a lot faster than she’d intended. It ended up quite crooked at the bottom. But she caught Luke before he made it out the door.
‘You need to get dressed,” Allie said. “ One shirt, one pair of pants, one pair of undies.”
“And one sock!” Luke grinned, as he raced up the stairs, leaving gobs of bubbles behind him.
JoJo came out of the living room and put her empty cup in the sink. “Almost ready to go?”
“Almost, yes.” Allie glanced up the stairs as she straightened her shirt and ran her hands through her hair. Again.
“You look good, Allie, stop worrying.” JoJo smiled sadly.
When they pulled into the huge parking lot, JoJo looked around.
“Do you see your mom’s car?”
Allie scowled. “We don’t have a car. And you don’t need one to be a good parent.”
“True,”
Jonathan snorted. “It’s a good thing you’re a good mom, because you’re a pretty snotty foster kid. And a crappy sister. And you don’t know what a bull looks like. Or a rooster...”
“Shut up.”
Later that night, freshly scrubbed, stuffed with lasagna and cozied up in bed with the twins, Allie felt the knot in her chest loosen. She felt herself drifting off. She pinched her own arm, trying to keep herself awake.
She couldn’t fall asleep. Not yet. JoJo and Arthur were still downstairs watching a show. Allie needed to stay awake until they went to bed. She had to trade the books she’d read for new ones. Then she had to stay awake to read. Once they’d moved back home, she’d never see JoJo’s library again. There were so many beautiful books crammed into that amazing room. She needed to read as many as possible. She was running out of time.
CHAPTER 8
Allie took a deep breath and willed her hands to stop shaking. She’d stayed up way too late reading. She’d taken a book on first aid, one about decorating homes on a budget, and a novel called Little Women . And she’d read them all. She was a fast reader, but it still took her until 4 o’clock in the morning to finish. Then Madeleine had prodded her awake at 6. Now she was dragging herself through what felt like the longest day of her life. She was tired. Really really tired.
And that wasn’t the worst of it. They had to be at Stone’s office by dinnertime to see their mom. Problem was, Mom was, well, Mom . Allie didn’t know if she’d be sober and chatty. Or drunk and snarly. Or something in the middle.
And whatever state she was in, the workers would be recording it all. With some families, social workers actually recorded the visits so they’d have proof of how crappy the parents were. So they could show the DVDs to a judge. Allie’s family was one of those families.
Allie stifled a yawn and tried—again—to stop her hands from shaking. She had to pretend everything was okay, so Luke and Madeleine would stay happy and calm. Otherwise, the whole evening would be a mess.
“Stand still, Madeleine, I’m almost done.” Allie stuck the comb in her mouth and grabbed more bobby pins. She was trying to tame Madeleine’s long, scraggly hair so it would look pretty for their visit.
“I don’t want a bench braid. I hate them.” Madeleine tried to sneak away, but Allie pulled the squirmy kid right back.
“It’s called a French braid, and it’s going to look beautiful,” Allie said, as she pulled the comb out of her mouth. “Now stand still so I can get it done.”
Gales of laughter told Allie that Luke was no longer where she’d left him. “Luke! Get back in the tub!” she yelled.
“I’m not Luke,” Luke said, as he tiptoed past Allie and Madeleine. “I’m Bubble Boy.”
And he was. Luke had piled heaps of bubbles on his head, and had used them like undies to cover his private parts. He was tiptoeing through the kitchen toward the back door, trying to hang onto handfuls of bubbles so they wouldn’t slip down his legs and expose him.
Allie finished the braid a lot faster than she’d intended. It ended up quite crooked at the bottom. But she caught Luke before he made it out the door.
‘You need to get dressed,” Allie said. “ One shirt, one pair of pants, one pair of undies.”
“And one sock!” Luke grinned, as he raced up the stairs, leaving gobs of bubbles behind him.
JoJo came out of the living room and put her empty cup in the sink. “Almost ready to go?”
“Almost, yes.” Allie glanced up the stairs as she straightened her shirt and ran her hands through her hair. Again.
“You look good, Allie, stop worrying.” JoJo smiled sadly.
When they pulled into the huge parking lot, JoJo looked around.
“Do you see your mom’s car?”
Allie scowled. “We don’t have a car. And you don’t need one to be a good parent.”
“True,”
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