Jane's Surrender(3)

Mom smiled. Her bright brown eyes and black hair made her look even cooler with those tattoos she had all over her arms. She was wearing jeans, a shirt, and stood barefoot. Dad wasn't much different from her; he had on a shirt and jeans. His head was bald, and his eyes were green. His back, arms, and neck were covered in tattoos.

I really freaking loved them.

They took me in two years ago after the Parkers’ disaster and never looked back. At first, I thought it was going to be the same stupid foster home, but I was wrong. They were nice, gave me my own room, clothes, and I was allowed to do whatever I wanted as long as my homework was done. They lived in Ridgewood, New Jersey, and the neighborhood and school were nice.

Dad had a workshop, where he worked on motorcycles, and mom was a tattoo artist. They weren't rich, and sometimes, or rather usually, we bought clothes in secondhand stores. Still, they did what was good for me.

The house gave me a sense of home, and I’d never been happier than I was with them.

I ran to Mom, kissed her on the cheek, and she held me a second longer than usual, and that one second made me tense in her arms.

Something was wrong.

I looked at her and Dad. Both of them were watching me carefully, and then Mom took a deep breath and shook her head at Dad, whose eyes narrowed.

“What’s going on?”

“Let’s sit in the living room, hun, okay?” she said, and we all went to the couch. Rather, they sat me on the couch, and both of them sat on the table in front of me. Mom took my hand in hers, and instantly, relief slipped through my body. Her touch was the best.

“Honey, a few days ago, I was feeling really dizzy and sleepy, and we were worried I might be sick.”

“Are you sick?” My voice was scared, but she patted my hand.

“No, sweetie, we thought I was, but then…” she exhaled a heavy breath, “I’m pregnant.”

Her words made me smile. I knew how much they dreamed about a baby but couldn't have one.

“It’s great news then, Mom. I know how much Dad and you have dreamed about a baby.” Somehow, my words made her cry more and lean onto Dad, who hugged her close. “What’s wrong?”

“Honey,” Dad started. “We never expected this. We’d pretty much accepted we’d never have a baby, and now…we can’t afford two kids.”

Oh.

The thought didn't even cross my mind, but it should have.

“The adoption papers weren't finalized, but we just… Honey, we love you, but we can’t turn our back on this blessing.”

The happiness that was inside me a minute ago left me, and I slid my hand under hers and hugged it close to my chest. They were getting rid of me.

Mama loves you.

Honey, we love you.

Well, apparently, no one loved me enough to stick around for long.

“When will they come to pick me up?” My voice was hollow and lacked any emotion, and Mom—no, Audrey—started to cry harder.

“Not right away. We want you to stay with us ‘til I have the baby. Jane, please understand; you’re like a daughter to us, but we really can’t afford—”

I wanted to cover my ears with my hands and just mutter blah blah blah, so her words wouldn't hurt me more. “Can I go this week?” To stay and see their love for their baby, how they prepare for it and I would no longer be part of their family? No, thanks.

“Jane, you don’t understand—” William started, but I cut him off.

“I wanna go this week.” With those words, without waiting for their reply, I ran upstairs to my room, closed the door, and slid down to the floor as my hands covered my sobs.

Why had no one ever loved me?



Trenton, New Jersey



Jane, 14 years old

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Jane, language!”

“Yeah, if you want me to mind my language, that ship has sailed. I don’t want to be adopted, and who are those freaky people anyway? No one adopts kids my age.” And that was the God’s honest truth. All those kids in foster houses dreamed about some folks who would come and change their life, but someone should’ve seriously told them not to bother.

“They are nice people—” Anne started, but my hollow laugh stopped her.

“Right. As nice as William and Audrey? By the way, how are they? Was it a boy or girl?” She clenched her jaw and looked aside; she couldn't bear to meet my eyes. Anne was my social worker from the very beginning. None of the places where I was placed ended well for me. She couldn't even blame it on me, because I was a perfect fucking child.

Yeah! Freaking me.

I told her I was fine where I was. The people were okay. They had like seven kids around, but no one bothered me much, and we could all do whatever the hell we wanted as long as the house was clean. In my opinion, the deal was good, and Anne wanted to screw it all up for me again.