The Ahern Brothers Collection - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,22
we approached the staircase.
Mom stopped at the top of the stairs and turned toward Abby’s room. “Do you think she’s coming downstairs for dinner?”
She didn’t wait for my answer and walked over to Abby’s door.
Dad shook his head. “We’re too old for this.”
They were too old, but they were also one of the best couples in the foster care system. About twenty-five kids had stayed in the house since Mom decided to open her heart and her doors to kids like Abigail and myself. I was one of the lucky ones who got to stay with them forever.
Before I could say anything to Dad about his age or reassure them that they were the best parents a foster kid could have, I spotted Mom approaching us.
“Abigail likes cereal and popcorn,” she said quietly. “Could you please go to the pantry and make sure that we have enough. We’re changing the menu for tonight.”
Dad sighed and looked at me.
“She told you that’s what she likes?” I frowned.
“She only nodded when I said cereal and popcorn.” Mom twisted her mouth. “She scrunched her nose at the mention of peanut butter.”
“We should feed her something else, Linda,” Dad proposed.
“Hmm …” She tapped her chin. “Maybe we can give her a little of everything. We can order Chinese, Thai, Mexican, Greek, Italian … what else?”
“Sushi?” I suggested. “Why don’t you order it, get directions of the places that don’t deliver, and I’ll go and pick up the food?”
“That sounds like a great idea,” she said excitedly.
“Where is she?” Dad peered around us.
“Taking a shower. We have time.”
When I came back with the food, Abigail was eating a bowl of cereal. Mom and Dad helped me open the bags and cartons. As soon as she was done with her food, she continued with what I brought. She was hungry. Mom and Dad tried to ignore the amount of food she devoured, but I couldn’t help but watch her in amazement. When she was finished, she smiled at Mom and mouthed “Thank you.”
That night, after everyone went to sleep, I stayed in the studio to finish a few proposals for Dad. But I ran upstairs as fast as I could the moment I heard her scream.
“No, please don’t,” she begged.
Mom and Dad were already there when I reached her room.
“It’s okay, sweetie, no one is going to hurt you,” Mom assured her, holding Abby in her arms.
The girl flung her arms and legs, begging, yelling, and crying. When Dad spoke, her shrill cries became painful to my ears.
“Leave, Will,” Mom ordered him. “Actually, bring me some warm milk.”
“Abby, sweetie, you’re safe,” Mom repeated several times as she caressed her arm.
Finally, the cries became sobs, and Abigail opened her eyes.
“You woke us up,” Mom said calmly.
Terrified, Abigail jumped out of the bed and fled to the corner of the room. She reminded me of a little mouse trapped among feral cats ready to shred her.
“I don’t want to leave,” she cried again. “I’m sorry. Give me another chance.”
“You’ll stay with us for as long as you want,” Mom said quietly. “We just want to help you.”
“You can’t. Nobody can help me. They’ll find me.” She hugged herself.
“The guy who killed your sister is dead, sweetie. You’re safe.”
Abigail closed her eyes, sliding down the wall against her back and hugging her legs.
I crawled to where she sat and whispered. “No one can get in this house. It’s secured. But if they try, I’ll be here, protecting you.”
“He’ll find me,” she mumbled.
I rose from the floor and pulled her up with me.
“What if I stay on the couch to guard you?” I offered. “At least for tonight.”
“Wes?” Mom questioned me.
“It’ll be fine, Mom. Let me help you.”
“Thank you, darling. You’re the best son a mother could ask for.”
“Don’t let Sterling hear you or he’ll give you hell,” I warned her.
My little brother was jealous of everyone, even the pets.
I kept the lights on while Abigail tried to fall asleep. Her eyes remained wide open and she stared at the chandelier. I took her hand and began to count the crystal drops out loud. After twenty-five she joined me. By the time we hit eighty-nine, her eyes were heavy. By one-hundred-and-thirty-four, she was fast asleep.
Over several months, that became our nightly routine, and Abby became my companion. She helped me look for my first apartment, but I didn’t move out of my parents’ house until Abigail left for Berkeley.
Chapter Eleven
Abby
The bedsprings squeak. She screams. I shrink under my bed.