I can order some mean takeout.”
Annie laughed. The newcomer did not.
“Hai Linh was born here in Rome and she learned how,” the woman said, as if Annie was somehow lacking.
For women like Lynn it was so simple, growing up in a house that passed down all the cultural wealth to the younger generation. But for someone like Annie, who never fit into either community, it wasn’t so simple.
The older woman eyed Annie calculatingly. “How much did you cost?”
Even though there was no harm intended by their questioning, they made it sound as if Annie had been one of many kids locked in kennels while her parents strolled along saying, “Oh, she’s too old. And this one’s too fussy. But this one, right here, she has small, cute ears—we’ll take one of her to go, please.” Before handing over a cashier’s check that amounted to their entire life savings to the “Baby Seller.”
And while most of America would be shocked at the line of questioning, Annie took it in stride. She’d been asked it enough over the years to understand that the adoption process was a mystery to most, and every culture viewed it through a different lens.
But adoptive families came together the same way as biological ones. Annie was Maura and Marty’s daughter. She just happened to have been carried by another woman, eight thousand miles away. And instead of being the product of two people’s love, people like Annie were the sum of four people’s.
In her book, that made her twice as loved and doubly special. At least that’s what she told herself in moments of doubt. Moments like this.
“My mom says I’m worth every penny.” It was the light-hearted answer that always got a laugh. And it didn’t fail her tonight.
She fielded more painfully familiar questions that sparked even more painfully familiar emotions as she recited the recycled answers. Eventually, the questions slowed, leaving only awkward silence, marking the end of “Get to know Anh.”
Only they didn’t know her at all. They knew her story, where she came from, and how to properly say her name. But they didn’t know the first thing about who she was, and that was as isolating as the conversation that continued in front of her, none of which she was included in or could understand.
The result: Annie had never felt so out of place in all her life—and that was saying a lot.
“Cháu i,” Nurse Tran said to Annie. “There is something wrong with your Mì Hoành Thánh.”
Yeah, about that.
Annie stood and smoothed her sweaty hands down her shirt. She’d taken care with her appearance, wearing a denim skirt with a silky teal top. “It’s not really Mi Hoanh Thanh. It’s my mom’s version of dumpling soup.”
Nurse Tran sent her a leveling glare. “But I explained that this was Mì Hoành Thánh night.”
“Mi Hoanh Thanh is a Vietnamese dumpling soup, right?” When no one moved, she added, “Well, I brought matzo ball soup. It’s my mom’s signature dish.”
The ladies exchanged looks, but it was Nurse Tran who spoke. “You mean, your mom’s American dish?”
“My parents are Irish, but it’s a traditional Jewish dish that we make around... well, that doesn’t matter. It’s my family’s recipe and it’s quite good. In fact, my mom has won awards at the local temple cook-off.”
“Hai Linh takes me to temple every week,” Mai said gently, patting Annie’s knee in support.
But Nurse Tran wasn’t having any of it. She said something in Vietnamese, speaking for so long Annie thought maybe she was reciting the complete works of William Shakespeare just to screw with her.
Finally she finished, and all eyes were on Annie when Mai nodded and said, “Ah.” A single sound that ricocheted off the chip Annie now had on her shoulder.
Time to get back to making that dish-and-dash list so she could get the heck out of there.
* * *
Emmitt walked up the steps of the Tanner house. It wasn’t even six and the sun had taken shelter behind a cluster of clouds moving off the coast that had spread out to cover Rome and most of the neighboring towns. Summer had held on for longer than normal, so Emmitt had been surprised when the air became chilled, announcing that fall was about to make an appearance.
He looked up at the sky and squinted at the tiny molecules of rain flittering down. A drop landed on the tip of his nose and he smiled.
Tonight was his night. Steps one through three were coming together, and he