Sisters in the Wind(65)
“I bet the baby is less work than Tonya,” I told Diego while we weeded the vegetable garden.
“I bet Missus ordered Bruce to take over Allen and Jennifer’s bedroom before Tonya claimed it for herself,” Diego said, just as conspiratorially.
With Jennifer and Allen in their new house, Bruce moved into their former bedroom suite in the farmhouse. He was also dating someone who he hadn’t brought home yet. Missus had a private little smile whenever she heard us foster kids speculate on the nameless girl. She was happy for her son; we all were.
The school year ended, which meant Diego and the rest of the foster kids could work full-time at the farm with Boyd and me. We quickly settled into our summer routine of hearty breakfasts, long workdays, hammock siestas, noisy dinner conversations, and evening bonfires. The swimming hole was a new addition to my daily routine.
Since I was more familiar with the trails after snowmobiling on state land all winter, I joined my foster siblings at the end of each workday when they hiked to a swimming hole fed by a series of waterfalls. The menace that was Steven Sterling had faded. I no longer expected him to find me. Just because he was part of my past, it didn’t make him part of my present or future.
I was the only one who kept all my clothes on when we swam. Joy, Lexi, and the new girl, Jasmine, stripped down to their sports bras and panties before jumping into the clear blue water. Tonya was self-conscious about her post-pregnancy stomach, so she swam in a long T-shirt. All three boys shucked their shirts. Diego was the only boy who kept his jeans shorts on. The other two swam in their boxers or briefs. Some of us would hoot and howl when it was time to leave and someone had forgotten to wear darker underwear. I made a note to save the white and pale pink panties from the five-pack for the winter months only.
The trail sharply escalated beyond the swimming hole. Diego and I climbed the small footpath leading to a fifteen-foot waterfall. I loved diving from the overhang into the cold, blue depths of the swimming hole. My dad’s instructions echoed as I demonstrated my best somersault in pike position. Diego’s dives were more style than substance. He windmilled his arms while shouting for various saints to protect him.
We swam for about an hour every day in the late afternoon, before heading back to the farm and getting ready for dinner. Walking back with my foster siblings, I felt content in a way I hadn’t in my previous placements. Hoppy Farm had the great outdoors and hard work like at Miss Lonnie’s, but with more people. Mister and Missus didn’t force their foster kids to follow their religious beliefs; they led by example how to care for others and build community we could all be proud of. I had books and friends. I earned money, which I saved for a someday that didn’t feel as scary and alone as I had anticipated.
* * *
The day before my seventeenth birthday, Diego stayed behind for a call with his caseworker while the rest of us went to the swimming hole. Boyd glommed onto me for the hike to the waterfall.
“So, you like Diego now?” he said once we reached the top.
“I like all my friends.”
“Yeah, but you don’t stare at anyone else’s bare chest.” He sounded jealous.
In my best What Would Devery Say? I channeled my blunt foster sister.
“Wait, so you stare at me staring at a guy who isn’t you?”
I hoped it would shut him down, but it didn’t.
“He’s still into Emily, you know.”
“Why do you care?” I challenged him.
“Maybe I still like you,” he admitted.
“I told you before, Boyd. I don’t like you that way anymore.”
“I’m just saying, maybe you should let Diego go.”
“I’m not holding on to him, so your point doesn’t make sense.” When we reached the waterfall, I leaped without planning which dive to do. Just to get away from Boyd and his unwelcome reminder of Diego’s feelings for a girl who wasn’t me. Devery might have been onto something; it is satisfying to have the final word.
That night, we had a bonfire in our usual spot near the outbuilding formerly occupied by Bruce. Mister and Missus checked on us throughout the evening, but there were stretches of time when we were unsupervised. With Jennifer and Allen on the baby’s schedule, and Bruce playing video games in his bedroom at the farmhouse, it was just the teens at the bonfire.
“Devery would’ve loved it here,” I said.
“She was your first foster sister, right?” Diego had a good memory.
“Yeah. She always said some group homes were more fun than others.”
I glanced around the bonfire as Lexi made her way from the farmhouse. Boyd reached for her. When she didn’t immediately swat him away, I stared at their hands momentarily clasped. Then she took a seat across the fire from him.
Thanks to Steven Sterling, I knew a drug handoff when I saw one. This summer Boyd had bought a used pickup truck instead of Allen’s. He volunteered to run errands in town every day. His own errands included buying beer, liquor, and weed, which he sold to us fosters for a profit.
I wasn’t interested in anything, but one by one, each teen made their way to Boyd. Tonya went for a walk with him and returned with a can of hard cider, which she now sipped at the fire. Lexi excused herself to use the bathroom in Bruce’s former lair and came back glassy-eyed and giggly. Joy burped as she went by, and I smelled beer on her breath. Jasmine sat next to Boyd and drank greedily from his water bottle, which he’d filled with vodka and Red Bull.