How to Get Dirt

 

For Noel, who made my own family whole.

 

 

Excitement filled Pickles Bartley
'
s heart as she sat in
the cafeteria at the Walter Peabody Home for Children
,
which was empty except for the janitor who rolled his trash can across his floor.
On a
n
average
day
, she should have been in school with the rest of the foster girls, but today she had been called out
for a special meeting
.
Blood
rushed in her ears and her heart pounded. The normally bustling cafeteria
'
s silence was horrible because it allowed her no distractions from her own thoughts.
She
stared straigh
t ahead at her social worker
,
Mrs. Beazley
.
The brilliant glare of fluorescent lighting emphasized the fine lines around her hazel eyes. Laugh lines, one of Pickles
'
foster moms had once called them. Pickles liked Mrs. Beazley.
For as long as she could remember, the woman had been there for her
.

“
I think we found you another foster home,
”
Mrs. Beazley said
, tucking a strand of brunette h
air
behind one ear
.
“
This one is in Seattle. A nice family. Young. What do you think?
”

Mrs. Beazley slid a photographer in front of Pickles
.
The couple in the picture belonged on the cover of a magazine.
The woman was a
thin brunette
and the man had dark black curly hair.

“
They
look nice
,
”
Pickles said.
“
What are their names?
”

Mrs. Beazley frowned.
“
Miranda and David Harris. They
'
re from Michigan, and you will be their first foster child. They might be looking to adopt someday.
”

The hope that never quite died with each disappointment began to blossom again. Pickles had hopped from one foster family to the next, but
what she really wanted was a family to call her own
.
Mrs. Beazley had
once
told her
that
her
parents had abandoned her on the footsteps of
a police station
when she was three years old. Pickles recovered
from the
abandonment
and had been in the foster care system ever since. Her dream, though, was always to find one thing
—
a family
who
would love her.

“
Do you think
they would like somebody like me?
”
Pickles asked.
“
Didn
'
t they want a baby?
”

Mrs. Beazley
'
s pale face
grew
red.
“
Well, yes, but so does everybody else. When they couldn
'
t get a baby, I asked if they would like to try foster care. You
'
re
a sweet
girl, Pickles. Never, in all of my years of working this job, have I met a girl as
nice
as you. I believe with all of my heart one of these days a family is going to
adopt you permanently
.
”

With a slow nod, she concentrated on the smiling couple in the picture.
Please let them be the ones to love me enough to want me for always.
With her thought finished, she lifted her face and met Mrs. Beazley
'
s kind gaze.
“
When can I meet them?
”
Pickles asked.

“
Tomorrow afternoon at
two
o
'
clock.
”
Mrs. Beazley grinned at her.
“
How would you feel about going to lunch? I
'
ll come over earl
y
to
help you look pretty.
My daughter has outgrown a lot of her dresses and I think you might fit one of them
.
”

“
Oh, Mrs. Beazley, thank you.
”
Pickles leapt to her feet
, grinning.

“
Anytime, Pickles.
”
Mrs. Beazley
'
s smile fa
d
ed as she slowly got to her feet.
Confused,
Pickles cocked her head
as she also stood
.
“
Mrs. Beazley, is something wrong?
”

“
No
.
”
Mrs. Beazley
fought back tears
.
“
It
'
s
just
sometimes I wish you could be my own daughter.
”

With a grin, Pickles stepped forward and hugged Mrs. Beazley around her plump middle. Mrs. Beazley hugged her back until the air was choked from
Pickles
'
lungs.
Sometimes I wish I was her daughter too
.
Mrs. Beazley smelled of bacon
along with
a sweet floral perfume
, which Pickles had come to know as well as love. It was comforting, like home.
When
Mrs. Beazley
stepped back, Pickles smiled at her
, though she felt her heart clench with hope, nervousness, and fear.
None of her past homes had worked out for her, but this couple appeared perfect. She couldn
'
t help but feel excited and anxious at the same time.
Tomorrow
would be a frightening day for her.

“
Don
'
t worry about me,
”
Pickles said.
“
If they adopt me, I
'
ll be real happy. If they don
'
t, then
this
isn
'
t such a bad place to be. I mean, I could be out wandering the
streets,
right?
”

Shaking her head, Mrs. Beazley reached forward
to tousle
Pickles
'
short bob. Blonde strands of hair got in her face
.
L
aughing, Pickles tried to straighten it
.