Throw Away Teen (6 page)

We’d barely finished lunch when Liz grabbed her purse. “Come on, B.J. We’re going shopping.”

“For what?” I didn’t move. Guard-dog was asleep with his head on my foot again.

Ted came in from the bathroom where he’d been combing his hair. “Dog food and other supplies for your puppy, like a harness.”

“He needs a collar and a leash, too,” Liz said. “And a crate. It’s been a long time since we had a puppy in the house. And I want to find a new carpet for your room.”

“I don’t need new carpet. It’ll be toast if I spill turpentine or paint on it,” I said.

Ted ran a hand through his white hair and messed up all the combing he’d just done. “Why would you spill paint on a carpet?”

So much for this house
, I told myself. Old people fussed about their belongings. They wouldn’t want me around ruining their stuff. “I...I like to paint,” I stammered. “And the light from the windows would be perfect if I moved the desk.” Great, now I was talking about rearranging their stuff as well as ruining it.

Liz and Ted looked at each other. Then she said, “Maybe we’ll get some hooked rugs to spread around the room then. Those will clean up easily. You won’t freeze and I won’t worry about you catching cold. You’ll be able to paint, too. But you can decide which type you like better once we get there.” She gave me a quick hug. “I wish Carol had told me about your hobby. I’d have found that easel in the attic.”

“Nonsense,” Ted interrupted. “B.J. doesn’t have to paint in her room. We have the whole house. She can have a studio on the top floor.”

“But Jessie doesn’t like anyone in her room,” Liz said. “Or in Nikki’s.”

“We won’t use their rooms.” Ted looked at me. “Have you seen the third floor yet, B.J.?”

My head must’ve been going back and forth like I was watching a tennis match. “No. Who is Jessie?”

“Our niece and Nikki’s her daughter,” Liz said. “Jessie moved in with us when she was sixteen. She didn’t get along very well with her stepfather. She’s all grown up and a Major in the Army. She’s in Afghanistan right now. You’ll meet her when she comes home. She promised to bring Nikki and visit for a whole month.”

If Jessie comes home
, I thought. I remembered Liz saying something about Jocelyn being a model and vaguely wondered how she’d gotten along with someone who’d gone off to be a soldier. “And your ‘real’ kid? When will she be back?”

“Sunday dinner,” Liz said. “I think this is our weekend, but I have to check the calendar. They could be going to Zach’s folks.”

“Let’s find you a studio.” Ted started for the stairs. Was he avoiding the discussion about Jocelyn on purpose?

And now I was going to have two rooms? I bet that would just piss Jocelyn off to no end. I bent and gathered Guard-dog into my arms. Carrying him, I went after Ted. “You don’t have to do that for me. I’ll be fine with just the one room.”

“We have lots of space in this house,” Ted said. “No reason why you can’t put some of that unused space to good use. And this way you won’t have to worry about the carpet.”

I hesitated. If I got too greedy, they wouldn’t keep me very long and I wanted to pretend I had a puppy for a few more days. “Are you sure?”

“We want to do this for you.” Liz tried to put her arm around my shoulders but Guard growled at her. “B.J., he can walk.”

“Not very well.” I hugged him tighter and he licked my cheek. “He doesn’t mean to be rude. He just woke up and he’s trying to protect me.”

“Remember, it works both ways. You have to look after him, but you also need to teach him to be independent. He’s a baby, B.J. and you have to be his parent.”

“I know,” I said. If I stayed, I’d raise him right, with lots of love. But that was my secret, one I kept buried in the bottom of my heart and mind. If I ever had a kid, I’d love it more than anything in the whole world. Nobody would take my kid from me. I wouldn’t want her to go through what I had.

I’d treat Guard just like my own child.

I knew it was ridiculous that I already wanted this silly puppy, but I also knew better than to admit that to anyone. What would I do when I had to leave him? Because it was coming. I was headed back to Seattle first thing on Monday. Thankfully Liz hadn’t seemed to notice my secret, that I wanted to care for the puppy. Or maybe, she was just as I’d thought. Just like most of the adults I’d ever met who totally ignored kids like me and what they said.

Although, she had listened when I mentioned liking to paint. Why else would we be trudging up to the third story on a studio hunt?

The third story was as clean as the rest of the house. Liz really needed to get a life. It was either that, or she had a maid I hadn’t met yet.

“This is Jessie’s room.” Ted opened a door and we went inside. Paperbacks and hardcover books were crammed into long bookshelves lining the walls. Old
Star Wars
movie posters filled the spaces between the shelves, from back when Harrison Ford was still young and hot.

When I peeked in the closet, I saw regular clothes; jeans, slacks, jackets, blouses and even a couple dresses, but not a single Army uniform or a pair of combat boots. So, what kind of a soldier was she?

Liz put a hand on my shoulder. “She keeps her civvies here.”

“What are civvies?” I asked.

“Civilian clothes,” Ted told me. “Jessie wears them when she’s home on leave.”

“Oh.” I closed the door and looked around the room. Stuffed animals, dogs, lions, bears, and even a unicorn, frolicked across the purple comforter on the canopy bed. The sheets and blankets that peeked out from under the comforter looked freshly washed, and not a single smidgen of dust could be seen anywhere. It must be awesome to leave a room like this and know it’d be the same when I came back. Lucky Jessie.

Then again, maybe not. I remembered what I’d seen about the war on TV. Soldiers kept dying. It was obvious from Liz’s care of the room that she cared deeply about its owner. She and Ted would be heartbroken if their niece never slept in the bed again or wore her jeans or read one of those books.

Tucked away on a shelf in the corner, I saw a cable-car music box. “That’s cute.”

“It plays ‘I left my heart in San Francisco,’” Liz said. “That’s Jessie’s favorite place in the world. She and Nikki lived there before Jessie shipped out again. Being in the Army, they always have to pack up and move on, so they send their treasures to us to hold onto.”

“When she went to boot camp, Jocelyn borrowed some of Jessie’s things,” Ted said. “Jessie threatened to rearrange her face, but Liz put a stop to that before it came to blows.”

“Why did she stop them? In the center, I have to watch my stuff or it disappears. The only person who doesn’t touch it is Terry and I take care of her.”

“Why doesn’t she look out for herself, B.J.?” Liz asked.

“She doesn’t know how. She’s only been in foster care for two months and she hasn’t learned how to stand up for herself yet. I’m teaching her. She’ll get tougher. I had to smack Irene for reading Terry’s diary after she first got there. But then last week she yelled at Irene. It was pretty funny.”

“Why did Irene read her diary?” Liz asked. “Diaries are private.”

“I think she wanted to see what Terry was made of, if she had a spine. If she didn’t, she would get her out of our room,” I said. “But I told her that Terry was staying. She’s safer with us. The other girls would only push her around.”

“So, why is Terry at the center?” Ted meandered down the hall. “Isn’t Evergreen for kids with family trouble?”

“Yeah. The story she told us was that she went to a kegger and the cops showed up right after she did and she ended up in jail. Her mom has a new husband and he didn’t like the idea of having a convict for a stepdaughter so he made her mom leave Terry there. When the case finally got to court, the judge sent Terry to us.”

Terry still hadn’t gotten over her mom’s betrayal. Who would look after Terry if I stayed with Liz and Ted? Well, no point in worrying about it, since the chance of it really happening was, like, nil.

“And Irene?” Ted asked. “What’s she like?”

“Tough like me,” I said. “And brave. She’s always got my back.”

“I have friends like that,” Liz said. “They’re the best.”

“Yeah,” I said. “She never smokes around me because she knows I hate it.”

Ted pointed out the room next door and said that was Nikki’s. When we went inside, the room was a lot like Jessie’s. Horse posters, books, a bulletin board covered with postcards of places I’d only seen on TV like the Golden Gate Bridge and London Tower. A huge king-size bed took up the center of the room. I’d bet there were more clean sheets and blankets on it, too. We continued our tour of the entire third floor and I found the perfect studio; one of the turret rooms. Windows took up most of the curved walls.

“We need to wash the windows again,” Liz told me. “The room has a hardwood floor so it won’t matter about paint or other spills. We’ll give it a good cleaning when we return from the store.”

“Sure, but I don’t see why it needs it,” I said. “It looks great to me.”

Ted laughed. “Wait till Jocelyn gets going. She could give Liz lessons in being Mrs. Clean.” He pretended to cower from Liz’s glare. “Okay. Okay. Let’s go shopping, ladies. Ringo’s coming to help me with the carpet in three hours.”

“Then, we’d better find one,” Liz said. “Tonight, you can look for the easel up in the attic, Theodore Driscoll.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Ted winked at me. “You have to be careful when Liz gets her dander up.”

CHAPTER 4

Our first stop was a big hardware store Ted called
The Co-Op
. There were rows of tools, fence wire, saddles, bridles and numerous other things for sale. Liz helped me find a leash and a special harness for Guard-dog while Ted bought a cage for him. He called it a crate and said Guard would like it and that it would keep him safe.

Yeah, right. How was locking someone in a cage keeping him safe? And how was Guard supposed to get away from bullies if he was locked up? Ted could buy the stupid thing, but there was no way I’d lock a helpless animal in a cage. I’d lived in enough foster homes to know exactly what it felt like.

After the Co-Op, we piled back into Ted’s Ford 150 truck. With Liz in the middle, it didn’t leave me much room by the passenger door, but I’d rather be squished then trapped in between two old geezers.

As Ted headed for a carpet store in Everett, I saw a sign for “99” and remembered the highway went through Seattle. When Liz and Ted realized their mistake, I could catch a bus into town. I always saved enough money for just that purpose since Gabe made me promise to stop hitching rides when I finally got boobs.

Liz had been completely serious about me choosing the floor covering. After much reluctance, I finally selected a dark blue carpet that matched the flowers in the wallpaper. The color wouldn’t show dirt if the dogs decided to sleep on it, though Guard could sleep with me.

Back in Stewart Falls, Ted pulled into a fast-food joint. “I’m ready for lunch. How about you gals?”

“You know all that grease isn’t good for your heart,” Liz scolded him. “I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries.”

“And a chocolate shake,” Ted chuckled, cruising through the parking lot. “What do you want, B.J.?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I dug into the pocket of my jeans for money. “Something cheap off the dollar menu.”

“I’ll buy lunch, honey.” Ted glanced sideways at me. “No woman pays for a meal when she’s with me.”

I stared at him. It was the first time an adult had said I was a woman. Even the bald-headed creep at my last foster home called me a girl, along with a few other choice names. Ted’s compliment made me feel good, grown-up, but I wasn’t about to show it.

“Don’t they call that chauvinism?” I asked.

“That’s me,” Ted agreed. “When women make equal money for equal work, they can pay their own way and not before.”

“I thought that was the law,” I said.

“Supposedly.” Liz patted my leg. “Typically a woman only earns about seventy cents for each dollar a man does.”

“How unfair is that!” I yelled.

“My grandmother and her generation got the vote for women,” Liz told me. “Maybe your generation can get the
Equal Rights Amendment
passed.”

“Didn’t that pass ages ago?” I asked her.

“No. It wasn’t ratified by enough states so the amendment isn’t part of the Constitution,” Liz said. “You’ll learn about that in Civics class when you go to the Academy.”

I nearly asked what she was talking about. I thought I was supposed to be living with them for keeps. What Academy? And what was Civics?

We pulled forward to the drive-up window. “How’s it going, Dallas?” Ted grinned as he handed the girl at the window some money.

“Okay,” She replied, trading his money for our food. She was a slender blonde who probably knew how hot she really was. “Ringo’s picking me up after his practice, but he won’t have time to drive me home before he comes over.”

“Then, you’ll just have to come, too,” Ted said.

Who was she? Ringo’s girlfriend? How could I ask?

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said. “I see you later then. Enjoy your lunch.”

As Ted pulled away, he handed me a
Happy Meal
.

“What’s this? A joke?” I asked. “I’m not laughing.”

“B.J. isn’t a little girl, Ted.” Liz frowned at him.

“I’ve always wanted to buy one of those things, but they’re only for children.” Ted eased the truck into an empty parking space and switched off the motor. “And when I get one for Chance, she won’t let me play the games.”

“Honestly, Theodore Driscoll. You get younger with each year.” Liz tried not to laugh. “Chance is our four-year-old grand-daughter. Ted spoils her rotten.”

I had to smile. “I’ll bet you help.”

“She sure does.” Ted eyed me hopefully. “Can I do the games, B.J.?”

“Maybe.” I opened the sack. Inside was a carton of chicken nuggets, fries and a toy. Nobody ever really gave me stuff, except Gabe. Even he had never bought me a kids’ meal at
McDonald’s
.