Fighting For What's Missing

13.

The second Tisha and I enter the kitchen, I stop and turn to her. "I'm only here for Agnes," I tell her again. "You may be fostering Agnes, but she's under my care, and you do not talk to her unless I'm around."

"I'm still your mother," she says coldly. My eyes slightly widen in surprise. I wasn't expecting that.

"Since when did that matter to you?" I fire back.

"William," she whispers, reminding me too much of Agnes. "I'm sorry for what happened, and I know this means nothing, but I'm proud of you. What you're doing for this little girl-"

"You're right, it means nothing." I make Agnes' plate in a hurry, but when I turned around, I'm alone in the kitchen. I make myself a plate then head upstairs.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I see the door to "my" room is open and the light is on.

"Agnes?"

"In here!" Her tiny voice calls back. I enter the room to see that it's just as bleak and depressing as Agnes', the only difference is mine has a desk. Agnes is standing in the middle of the room, slowly spinning around to scan everything. "Our rooms don't match the house," she whispers more to herself than me I think.

"Eat," I place the plates on the desk.

"I don't like my room," she mutters, crossing the room to me. "And can we see Gloria tomorrow?"

"I dunno, kid," I pick her up and place her on the chair. She instantly goes for her food. "You know Gloria was just the delivery man-"

"Gloria's a woman," she corrects me.

"Right, sorry....but Agnes, Gloria was just supposed to pick us up and drop us off."

She takes another bite, holds up her finger, indicating for me to wait, then wipes her lips on the back of her hand-why did I forget the napkins?-and turns to me. "You were supposed to watch me for a day."

There are one too many times where this smart girl left me speechless.

I grab my plate and sit on the edge of the desk.

Agnes

I'm really, really, really excited that William's going to foster me, but I'm trying not to get my hopes up. It hurts too much when I get my hopes up.

When William and I finish eating, we go downstairs to the living room. William's phone rings before we sat down. He groans, excuses himself, then retreats to the kitchen. I grab Woody and Buzz off the couch and sit on the floor. I wish William had turned on the tv before leaving. I'm alone for a few minutes before Mrs. Granger emerges from the back hallway with a large pile of fold clothes in her hands, an old navy blue cap on top. I automatically freeze. She glances around hopelessly for William.

"Kitchen," I whisper. "Phone call."

"I'm going to put these in your room."

I stand up, placing the dolls on the couch. "Can I see them?"

"Of course," she strolls over and places the file on the end of the couch then steps to the side. I grab the cap first. It's so old that the sewed-in writing is faded and hard to understand. "It's Will's," she whispers, "he used to wear them all the time, he had dozens of them. I dunno why he stopped wearing them."

It's William's?

I look at her and say, "Can I?" She nods. I gently hold the cap in my hands as if it were on fire, then put it on. It pushes my bangs in my eyes. I lift the peak, brush my bangs back then drop the peak. Perfect.