I hate waiting rooms especially if it’s in a hospital.
I hate hospitals. It smells too clean to me. I believe that germs make the air smell good. When I told Mr. Jenkins (he’s a doctor) that he called the state and told them that they gave him a crazy child.
But Mrs. Rivers had an appointment today. Turns out Mrs. Rivers is having a baby. Why they took me in amazes me. The day Mrs. Young announced she was having a baby they called Mr. Bill.
I’d been with the Rivers’ for two weeks now. They were nice and all but Mrs. Rivers and I didn’t talk much and it was just us in the house during the day but things might be looking up. I’m going to be a bridesmaid in a local wedding.
“Jessie-Maria?” Mr. Rivers asks walking out the door.
“The air smells germless,” I blurt. I felt my cheeks blush. Why did I have to say a stupid think like that? Mr. Rivers just chuckled.
“Come on,” Mr. Rivers says. “We got a surprise for you.”
“What kind of surprise?” I ask following Mr. Rivers down the hall. Mr. Rivers didn’t say anything. He just opened a door to where Mrs. Rivers was sitting down. She smiled at me.
“Mr. Rivers said something about a surprise,” I say walking in. Mrs. Rivers nodded her head.
“Honey,” Mrs. Rivers says reaching out for me to hug her. I walked over to her and let her squeeze me.
“I’m having twins,” Mrs. Rivers smiles. I frown.
“What’s wrong?” Mr. Rivers asks. I don’t know why but I go fly out the door and ran outside.
“JESSIE-MARIA!” Mr. Rivers calls. I turn around.
“Are you ok, honey?” Mr. Rivers asks me. He takes my hand and gets down to my height.
“I guess I’ll be leaving ya’ll soon,” I say. Yes, I know that ‘ya’ll’ is not a word but I’ve spent a considerable time in the South.
“Do you not like it here?” Mr. Rivers asks.
“No. You and Mrs. Rivers are really nice and I like being back in Massachusetts and I expected to stay here at least until the baby came but now that you’re having twins I guess I’ll be leaving after Mrs. Baldwin’s wedding,” I sigh.
“Jessie-Maria,” Mr. Rivers sighs. “I know that you’ve lived in quite a few foster families and that you’ve probably had something similar happen to you but Joan and I like you and if it’s all right with you, we’d like for you to stay.”
“Under one condition,” I say.
“What is it?” Mr. Rivers asks.
“That you stop calling me Jessie-Maria and call me Sean. Everybody else does. Even your wife sometimes calls me that,” I said. Mr. Rivers smiled.
“Deal,” Mr. Rivers smiles.
“Aren’t these cute?” Mrs. Rivers asks.
I nod. We’re baby shopping. We’re also shopping for me but Mrs. Rivers made a beeline for the baby clothes the minute we walked into the store.
“Are you having two girls, two boys, or a boy and a girl?” I ask.
“Tom and I want to be surprised,” Mrs. Rivers says.
“I like surprises,” I blurt. Mrs. Rivers smiles.
“So do I,” Mrs. Rivers says. “For now we’re looking at things in yellow and green.” I nod.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“In regards to what, honey?” Mrs. Rivers asks.
“Do you want two girls, two boys, or one of each?” I ask. “Oh and do you want them to be identical.”
“I’m not too crazy about identical twins, but I’ll take whatever the Lord gives me,” Mrs. Rivers said. “We can go baby shopping in a minute. You need a new dress. One that covers your knees.”
Right now I’m wearing one of Mrs. Rivers’ old pants. They’re too big for me and this belt I’m wearing is killing me.
“This one looks my size,” I say picking up a black and white dress.
“Go try it on,” Mrs. Rivers says taking a pink one off the rack.
“I’m pretty sure it’s my size,” I say. Mrs. Rivers hands me the pink dress and walks away. I walk towards the dressing room.
I hate dressing rooms. With all those mirrors around the scorn you. I haven’t been in one for over a year. I walk into the dressing room and the lady gives me a number two.
There’s only one left. The big one with all the mirrors around.
“Go on,” The woman says. I walk into the dressing room and tears stream down my face. I slowly undress.
My scares laugh and mock at me. My tears flow down like a river.
“Sean, are you ok?” Mrs. Rivers asks through the door. I guess I’m crying loud now. I put my shirt back on and walk out the dressing room.
“I can’t do it! I just can’t do it!” I cry. I run to the baby section and cry as if I was a baby.