The Forgotten Twin

Chapter 2: Heather's New Life

       I lay down next to my adopted dad and stare up at the blue sky. He smiles and takes my hand.
                                   "Beautiful day, isn't it Heather."
                                      "Sure is dad."

Charlie Ataman was the only foster parent I had ever called dad. He seemed to really like it. Mrs.Ataman almost started crying when I called her mom for the first time. I guess it means a lot that I think of them as my parents, even when they really aren't. Mrs.Ataman walks out onto the porch and yells at me in a motherly way.
                               "Heather honey, come help me with dinner please."

I quickly stand up and run over to the house. Mrs.Ataman gives me a hug and ushers me into the kitchen. It smells like heaven in there.
                                            "What are we making mom?"
                             "I thought I would teach you how to make my grandmother's pasta."

I eagerly nod and throw on an apron. Since I had to cook for most of my abusive foster families, cooking had found it's way into my heart as one of the few things I feel safe and happy doing. I'm pretty good at it to. Mrs.Ataman throws on an apron and takes out her old pasta roller. I get out the flour, eggs, spices, and everything else she tells me to get. The good thing about Mr and Mrs. Ataman is they are very careful about raising their voice, giving out orders, and making me feel loved. I didn't know what love really felt like until the government placed me in their care. The very last abusive foster family I had got mad at me because I accidentally spilled coffee on the white counter. The dad shoved me when I was holding his cup of coffee. It wasn't my fault at all. They blamed it on me though. The dad got so mad he slammed a frying pan down on my head. The doctors at the emergency room said it was a miracle I lived and I was a very special child. Then they found the lightning bolt scar on my neck and started asking questions about where it came from, what happened, if it pains me. This one doctor came in and asked me a different question though. Do you ever have bad dreams and wake up with the scar burning? It was weird because that happens all the time. When I told him yes he got really exited and ran out of the room. It was strange. After about an hour, he came back with a government official. I was then placed with Mr. and Mrs. Ataman.
                         "Shape the dough into a ball with a dent in the middle. Then slowly crack in the eggs."

Mrs. Ataman hands me an egg. I slowly crack it into the dent. Then Mrs. Ataman guides my hands while we mix the eggs into the dough. I absolutely love cooking with Mrs. Ataman. She never gets mad or frustrated when I break an egg or over mix a batter. We just start over and she helps me get it right. Mr. Ataman walks in the door and comes into the kitchen.
                         "Smells wonderful in here ladies."

It did indeed smell wonderful. There was a loaf of rosemary bread cooking in the oven. The rosemary was releasing a heavenly scent that filled the whole house. Once Mrs.Ataman and I finish the pasta, the three of us sit down to a dinner of pasta and bread. There was much laughter and joking that night. I had no idea that was going to be my last dinner with them.