If You Find Me(11)

“No doubt there will be an adjustment period for the girls, Mr. Benskin. For all of you. I won’t lie to you.”

The man strokes the stubble on his chin with faraway eyes. I don’t want him catching me, but I can’t look away. I watch his lips as he speaks.

“Did you discuss any of this with Carey? She’s spent a long time in those woods. I don’t know what Joelle filled her head with, but she’s not taking too warmly to me.”

I wouldn’t have thought he cared what I felt. I let the knowledge settle, sinking like stones to the bottom of the creek, only this time, the creek is my stomach.

“She’s agreed to go with you. Not without some hesitance, I admit, but she knows it’s best for Jenessa.”

The man nods.

[page]“Please don’t take it personally. Her reluctance is understandable. Since you’re not, in the usual sense—” Mrs. Haskell stops. But not the man.

“Her father. I know.” He sighs, deep and wide like Ness does sometimes. “I’m her father, but I’m a complete stranger to both these girls.”

“I assure you, they’ll have the services of the state of Tennessee at their disposal. We’ll get them back in school and all caught up in no time. We’ll help them adjust. Like I said, kids are resilient.”

“And reporters? Won’t they be all over this story?”

“I’m processing them as Carey and Jenessa Blackburn. That’s the name they’ve been using, anyway, and your wife’s maiden name is more likely to go under the radar, especially for Carey. I suggest we continue to use that name to enroll them in school.”

My father nods weakly. I can feel what he’s feeling. I’ve worn his face many times myself.

Hoping Mama will come back in time. Hoping I can protect Ness if an intruder enters our woods, or a hungry bear, or a hungry bear with cubs in tow, even worse. Hoping I can love Ness enough to grow her up healthy and normal, whatever that means. Hoping I can fill her growing mind and heart when I can’t fill her stomach... hoping she’ll forgive me for the white-star night, and keep on forgiving me every time I can’t fix things. Like now.

“You’re going to need buckets of patience, Mr. Benskin. Jenessa’s muteness will take time to sort out, and Carey comes with her own set of issues, no doubt. There’s no telling what these children have been through.”

My father begins picking at the edge of his cup. When he looks at her, I can tell his eyes are locked on something in the past— something that seared deeply and left the worst kind of scar: the inside kind. Mrs. Haskell’s eyes grow soft. She’s good at that, and I can tell it comes from someplace true.

“The girls are their own family unit. You have to remember that. They’re all each other had. It may be best to honor that, for starters. Carey is very mature for her age. Thank God, for Jenessa’s sake. As long as the decisions aren’t the big ones, I’d let Carey take the lead—at least until the girls warm up to you. It might help Jenessa adjust better, too, if Carey remains in charge.”

The man’s jaw is set, and his cheek muscle twitches. I don’t know what it means, or what he’s feeling; whether he agrees with Mrs. Haskell or resents her advice. I just don’t know. I don’t know him.

Abruptly, he pushes his chair back and towers above her.

“I’d better go get the girls some breakfast. They’re going to be hungry as bears when they wake up.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. We’re going to have to get them up soon. Court is in a few hours.”

I wait until he’s taken Mrs. Haskell’s order and the door wooshes shut before I make the appropriate waking noises, stretching my arms toward the ceiling. Next to me, Jenessa sprawls on her back, her sweet curls falling over her face. She sleeps like a rock, like little kids do. Carefully, I smooth a curly tendril out of the corner of her mouth. I see no reason to wake her until the food arrives. Plus, it gives me alone time to talk with Mrs. Haskell.

“Good morning, Carey.”

Mrs. Haskell’s hair is flat and she’s wearing the glasses again, in lieu of what I now know are contact lenses. It’s astounding, not just that people actually put tiny circles of plastic on their eyes but that they actually work.

“This is for you.”

She holds out a yellow brush in a crinkly plastic wrapper, small enough to brush Nessa’s Barbie’s hair, and a little tube of something. I look at it and mouth the word: Crest.

With her eyes matter-of-fact, she makes pretend I shouldn’t already know what it is. I’m grateful for that.

“That’s a toothbrush, and the tube is filled with toothpaste. You put a little on the brush and scrub your teeth with it.”

“Oh yeah. I remember now.”

My cheeks burn as the fuzzy memory returns, of Mama’s hand moving back and forth in front of my face, my lips curled back as I stood on a little white stool and leaned over the bathroom sink.

“That’s mighty convenient, in a tube and all. Ness and I used baking soda and tree bark. Mama said the soda would make our teeth cleaner and whiter.”

“Baking soda is a good substitute, if you don’t have toothpaste. Your mom was right.”

I nod, relieved. Relieved not to be that backward.

As I brush my teeth at the bathroom sink, I hear Jenessa waking up, groaning in that low way of hers, which is as close to talking words as a stranger will get. Mrs. Haskell makes her way to the bed, and I concentrate on the brushing. I make a face at the toothpaste taste, studying myself in the mirror. I can’t stop staring at myself.