Page 54 of The Dating Charade

Jett waved it off, shielding his disappointment. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“This might take a while. I’ll, uh, call you soon? Maybe see you sometime this week?”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” he started, but she had already pressed the phone to her ear and slipped into the emptying foyer.

In her wake, a cream-colored, still-swirling coffee sat on the table, untouched.

So much for revealing his hopes and dreams.

15

Cassie

“Rachel. Hi.” Cassie tried not to sound breathless as she pushed open the doors of the church and stepped into the December air.

“Hey, Cassie. I hope you don’t mind me calling on a Sunday.”

“No, of course not. I said anytime, remember?” Cassie leaned a hip against the waist-high concrete ledge. “What’s up?” She tried not to sound too concerned. Rachel could be calling about any number of children at Girls Haven besides the three currently residing beneath her roof. This could be a call about Cam’s situation. This could be a call verifying information on another one of the girls.

Or it could be about Deidre and Kennedy and Star.

It was Sunday. Of course it was about Deidre, Kennedy, and Star.

Cassie found herself pacing the length of the sidewalk, the nutcrackers on her Toms staring up at her. Their enormous teeth gritting with each step.

“We found the girls’ mother.”

Cassie nodded, hearing Rachel’s words over the phone.

“It wasn’t pretty,” Rachel continued.

Cassie felt her head pulsing. She would have to tell the girls. Or at least tell Star and let her decide whether they should tell her sisters.

Cassie knew from experience that fostering was hard. She’d known several foster parents along the way. “Prepare for the rollercoaster” were their general words of wisdom. Reunification of the biological family was always the goal, unless the case was too extreme. But how extreme did the abuse need to be? How long was neglecting your children too long? How many days, or weeks, did they need to face malnourishment and an environment broken by addiction and the dangers of abandonment before the government took away someone’s certificate of motherhood?

If Rachel was calling to say the girls’ mom was back, that she was sorry, that they were going to start the process of reunification, could Cassie’s heart bear it? Could she bear standing idly by week by week, month by month, dropping the girls off for visitations, packing their bags for overnights? Could her heart withstand the trembling as she counted the minutes, trying not to imagine all the possible, painful scenarios, until they returned?

She couldn’t handle it.

Maybe she’d thought she could two weeks ago, but now she knew: she wasn’t strong enough if something like that happened to her.

What a fool she was.

Cassie found her voice. “Where is she?”

“They’re holding her right now in Memphis. Seems she’ll be facing charges of possession and distribution. That plus a mounting case of child neglect and abandonment.” Rachel paused, and the seconds mounted. “Cassie, she signed over her rights.”

Cassie stopped midstep. It was her turn now for silence.

“Do you hear me?” Rachel continued. “Those girls are legally up for adoption as of twenty minutes ago.”

Cassie’s throat began to close, her vocal cords straining as she found her next words. “What about relatives?”

“I’ve looked into all the Allen children’s potential relations. I spoke with two leads, and both were either unable or unwilling to take over custody. Believe it or not, you’re actually the closest relation they’ve got . . . Cassie, those kids are yours if you’ll have them.”

She found she was still nodding, though the parked cars straight ahead were starting to blur. “Have them”? Have them? How could she feel anything besides wanting to have them?

Over the past two weeks it had become pretty clear the girls were going to need extra help in a variety of areas. Deidre still hadn’t spoken a word. Kennedy erupted into loud, sometimes violent tantrums that required moving fragile items and potential weapons out of the way. Just the few snippets Star had shared about life in that apartment warranted regular visits with a professional counselor. Lots of people around the world would say Cassie was completely, totally in over her head.