Counting by 7s(54)

I’ve barely gotten the words out of my mouth when Mai comes through the front door. She’s been at her friend Kalina’s house.

“What’s going on?”

I look from Dell back to her.

“I’ve made a proposal and Dell needs to take it into North South Bank.”

Mai has crazy power over people. It only takes one word from her.

“Dell . . .”

He changes course like the wind in a dust storm.

“I’ll drop it off tomorrow on my lunch break. Does that work for you two?”

We nod.

From the couch Quang-ha says:

“I did the drawings.”

The garden project is under way.

At least on paper.





Chapter 47





The new court date was set.

Pattie held the document in her hands.

The system was responsible for children until the day they turned eighteen years old. So Willow Chance had six years to navigate these waters.

Pattie remembered the note that Willow had written the first day she met her social worker at the nail salon. She couldn’t imagine that any other kid had presented something as precise.

Willow had a high-functioning brain. That much was clear.

So what does the world do with a twelve-year-old girl without family and a network of close friends? What were the choices?

In the big envelope the social worker had sent, Pattie now found a pamphlet for the next state-sponsored Adoption Fair.

From what she could see, the process looked like speed dating.

The fairs were held in a park. Prospective parents arrived and mingled with the busloads of kids, who came with social workers.

Hot dogs and hamburgers were served. A softball game was usually organized. The idea was to just be natural and give people a chance to get to know each other.

According to the statistics on the last page of the informational brochure, there were matches made. And of course, sometimes they worked out.

Pattie felt certain that the little kids, especially the cute ones, got all the attention, since they were featured in the pamphlet.

The older kids, even the more outgoing ones who were trying to sell themselves, no doubt ended up the snakes at the petting zoo. People probably kept their distance.

It was hard to imagine Willow Chance in such a setting, but maybe she would defy the odds.

Hadn’t she been doing that her whole life?



Mai liked to shop. So even her mother’s regular trip to the farmer’s market presented an opportunity to browse.

Pattie always bought chicken feet from the man who sold organic eggs. He saved them for her in a special cooler of ice. She used the yellow fowl feet to make a soup that Mai had to admit was delicious, but it tasted better if you didn’t see the ingredients.

While her mother went down her shopping list, Mai wandered the aisles of the parking-lot-turned-market, looking at the organic honey and the purple turnips.

Willow said that she used to grow everything that they sold there in her own backyard.

Mai looked at the lettuce and the potatoes and the onions and the red cabbage.

It didn’t seem possible.

But Willow wasn’t a liar.

About anything.

At the far end of the last aisle was a man playing a banjo. Mai moved closer to hear him.

The sun was shining, but it wasn’t the punishing heat of summer or late spring. The air was still cool.

Mai took a seat on the edge of the curb and listened.

She couldn’t help herself from imagining the notes of the plucking strings playing for dancing chickens.

And then in her dreamy vision, the birds suddenly were without feet.

Mai stood up.

She felt a growing sense of panic as she looked in all directions for her mother.

It wasn’t just the idea of the feet-less fowl that was causing her distress; she now saw sunflowers for sale in tubs in almost all of the stalls.

She hadn’t noticed them before.

Each blossom held its own unique possibility.

Willow told her that if they didn’t get their small sunflower plants at home into the ground soon they’d be stunted.

She said that they needed to put down a real root system to achieve their potential.

Don’t we all, thought Mai as she hurried toward her mother in the distance.

Don’t we all?





Chapter 48





Big news.

My binder worked, and the bank has given Dell Duke the go-ahead to do the garden conversion.

But the letter (which is from the senior vice president’s office) has additional information besides the legal permission to take up the rock pile.

Someone over there at North South Bank is on top of things, because as the letter states:

Taking the initiative to improve the property as a renter shows a commitment to the values we at North South Bank hold dear.

We have never, in the history of the bank, seen such a thorough proposal.

Therefore, Mr. Duke, in addition to granting you permission to plant a garden in the central, uncovered atrium, we have made the decision to ask you to be the Building Representative for the Gardens of Glenwood.



I don’t think anyone ever asked Dell to represent anything before.

He looks like he won the lottery.

It’s a strange combination of being wildly excited and deeply afraid.