June 16
Today I’m in the orchard again. It’s the only real place I can go to
think. Peaceful and serene, I feel free there, but then I always have. I can
feel the cool breeze kiss my cheeks, and the robin’s songs soothe my ears as
they serenade through the branches; there can’t be a more beautiful sound. The
lilacs are in bloom now, full and fragrant. It feels like only a few weeks ago
that I spotted the first Crocus heads poking through the soil, when in reality
the calendar says it was almost two months ago.
The orchard isn’t really an orchard anymore, people used to come to pick
all kinds of fruit, but as time progressed the business wasn’t profitable. Not
wanting an entire orchard to rot, the mayor replaced the majority of fruit
trees with flowers instead. Now it’s mainly lilacs, wisteria and dogwoods, but
the occasional century fruit tree is still standing, which I’m thankful for. They
provide great snacks during the long summer days. My tree is an original autumn
cherry, about twenty feet. It’s sturdy and is easy to climb if you know how,
and right now the blossoms provide excellent concealment. The lilac trees in
the orchard are spread out and continue all the way to my house in a long
narrow row, resulting in beautiful stripe of periwinkle. I’ve always loved it,
and when I was younger I called it Lilac Lane.
Last Monday marked the three-year anniversary of me living in Aldbridge,
which is hard to believe. It feels like I came only a few months ago. I
remember when I first met Margaret and Dale Catawin and their three sons,
Felix, Blake and Liam. I’ll admit I was scared, but I should have been. I’d
been tossed around from foster home to foster home for twelve years before I
found them. The last thing I needed was to be intimidated by three bulky boys,
all over six feet tall.
I lay my pen across my diary and look
out at the orchard beneath me. I still remember my first day in Aldridge. I was
sitting on my bed in the spare room when Liam came in and silently sat across
from me.
“So, you don’t…know your family?” Was
the first thing he ever said to me. I remember it took everything inside me not
to break down. At every other foster home I’d been in, the kids had found a way
to tease me about being abandoned, and they were successful too. Most of my
nights for the past twelve years had ended in tears. Preparing to defend myself
against Liam, I nodded at him slightly. I saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes
for a brief moment before he softly spoke, “I’m sorry.”
I just stared at him. “But I want you
to know that, to us...you’re part of our family now…no matter what happens.” Whether
it was because of surprise, shock or an overflow of crammed anger, I don’t
know. Before I could stop, a steady stream of tears was flowing down my cheeks.
Liam’s face hardened. “Well don’t cry! We’re not that bad!”
I remember laughing for a minute before
I could work up enough sanity to say, “Thank you.” No one had ever been that
nice to me or welcomed me into their family like that, and at that point, I
couldn’t even remember the last time someone made me laugh. It was then that I
decided to trust him, and since that day we’ve been extremely close.
I was dropped off at a foster home when
I was a baby. Foster homes are supposed to be used as a temporary home for
children while their parent’s gather themselves, but in my case, my parents
never came back. I used to think I was like Orphan Annie or Oliver Twist, but with
age that fantasy evaporated. In every story I ever read, characters were left
with clues to their identities saying their parents would be back to get them
someday. I wasn’t left with anything from my parents except for my name: Aster
Simone. I’ve decided I don’t need anything else, even though Faye Weaver, my
social worker, has always had a ton of information on record for me. There’s no
reason for me to find my parents, and honestly I don’t want to meet the people
that gave me up for God knows what. Deep down I’m angry at them.
“I don’t care who you are; there’s no excuse
for giving up your child.” I catch myself speaking my thoughts out loud again.
The Catawins have given me a home.
They’ve wanted to officially adopt me from my first day here, but for some
reason that I don’t know, the board has decided not to allow it. Regardless of
what anyone says, in three years they’ve become my family, and I know they
think the same of me.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Liam’s
voice interrupts my thoughts.
“And so you did.”
He pauses and thinks for a second.
“What are you doing up there anyway?”
“Building a nest.” I say sarcastically,
He smiles. “Well, you’d be safer down
here. You’re not a bird you know.”
I look at him confused, “I guess that
explains why I can’t sing.”
“Sure does.” He raises his eyebrows at
me. “So, are you coming down or not? Felix won’t want to wait for dinner much
longer.”
“I think I’ll stay up here,” I smile
mischievously.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to eat
your dinner for you.”
As if on cue, my stomach gurgles. “Actually,
I think I’ll come!” I slide off my branch, grab the limb across from me and let
go, hitting the ground with a thud.
“Definitely not a bird.” Liam says
dryly.
I stand, dusting myself off and
playfully smack him on the arm.
We walk back to the house together, his
brotherly arm around my shoulders, my hands cradling the black zip up jacket I brought
with me. Liam’s three years older than me, but I’ve always felt we’re the same
age, probably because he doesn’t emphasize the fact that he’s eighteen. When we
finally get back to the house, the rest of the family is seated at the table.
“You’re late.” Felix, the middle son,
says firmly.
“No.” I pull out a chair. “We’re on
time, the rest of you were just early.”
Dale smiles faintly, “That’s one way to
think about it.”
During dinner there’s a knock at the
door and Blake, the eldest of the three boys, rises to get it. From the dinning
room we can hear some hushed tones for a while until Margaret finally decides
to go see the visitor for herself. The dining room is deathly quiet. A knot
twists itself into my stomach.
“It’s probably just solicitation,”
Felix says casually, picking up on my anxiety. A few minutes later Blake
reenters the room silent and avoiding eye contact.
“Who was it?” Dale asks his son, but
before Blake can speak, Margaret enters followed by Faye Weaver, who glances
around at us with a nervous smile. Something’s wrong. I know it. My uneasiness
surges and I feel fear creep up into my legs. Why is she here?
“Sorry to interrupt your dinner,” she
says so superficially it makes me sick, “but there’s been…a development.” She
glances back and forth from me to Dale as if she’s unsure what to say next. “Mr. Catawin, could you and Aster
please join me in the living room?”
We’ve been sitting in the privacy of
the living room for a good half an hour now, the warm glow of the lamps the
only thing that eases my tension. Faye has come to educate us on the news of my
parent’s death. It doesn’t faze me. Unfortunately, that’s not the only reason
she’s come. It turns out that I have an aunt living somewhere in the Southern
Hemisphere who claims that she never knew that my mother placed me in foster
care. Since she’s my closest relative, and has two children of her own, she’s
asked to adopt me.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I say firmly,
after Faye’s finished her speech.
“Aster, you know we have to do what’s
best for you. If you stay in foster care, you’ll only continue to be moved
until you’re old enough to live on your own. An adoption means you’ll finally
have a home.” Let the Catawins adopt me! I
want to scream, I already have a home, but I have a feeling that Faye doesn’t
see it that way. I understand why Faye wants me to go live with my aunt. Logically,
it is the best thing for me…but not
emotionally.
I look across the room at Dale for some
consolation. He is resolute. His eyes, so similar to Liam’s, send me a message;
you’re part of our family now…no matter
what happens.
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