Chapter 4
Four
Talia
I carry a patchwork quilt in my arms as I descend Hope House's narrow stairs.
It's cold here in the ancient house, as it is every winter, being that we are so close to the shore.
The house is precariously close to being eaten up by the warehouse district.
It stands amongst the last remaining row of ramshackle homes, once proud, now gone to seed.
Everything else has been boarded up and torn down, but the children's shelter and the few houses around it have somehow survived.
I step off the stairs into immediate chaos in the downstairs living room.
Olivia is very patiently sitting in the middle of the circle of girls who are putting makeup on her.
To my left is a row of couches that another group of children are currently trampling over, playing a rowdy game of tag.
I walk over to put the quilt down on a pile of blankets and start picking up toys to return to the toy box in the corner.
Olivia turns, her bright smile growing as she sees me, and looks at her watch. "It's almost three o'clock. Time for their nap."
I give her a watery smile. What she really means is that she will send the kids upstairs to nap soon, and we will both slip out unnoticed.
At least, that's what we have planned. Leaving here is always really hard for me and slipping away is the only way I can do it and not be an overwhelmed mess for at least an hour afterward.
“That sounds good.” I say, though I don’t mean it. I feel wrung out and paper thin after spending the morning here. I know it’s good for the soul, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling emotionally drained after spending so much time with the kids.
One very small girl with reddish blonde hair tugs on my sleeve. She looks between me and Olivia, sinking her hands into the pockets of her secondhand, oversized overalls and sticking out her bottom lip.
"Are you coming upstairs to nap with us?” she asks.
I look at Olivia, my breath catching. This little girl looks exactly like me twenty years ago. She even ended up here at Hope House, just like I did early in my life.
Olivia sees my distress and rushes over to the little girl, trying to explain to her in the gentlest tone possible. "We have to go home, Maddie. That's where we keep our toothbrushes, our nap blankets, and our extra clothes. But we will be back before you know it. I promise."
Maddie glances at me, her lower lip starting to quiver. "You're going, too?"
She looks between me and Olivia, her eyes wide, her chin wobbling.
"Don’t leave," she asked. "Miss Olivia, Miss Talia, I want you to stay with me."
She appears to be on the verge of tears.
"Olivia and I have to head home. We have to go to sleep and go to work. But we will be back very soon.” I cross the room, kneeling near her feet.
This is the hardest part of volunteering at a children's shelter.
Telling the kids that you have to leave in order to sleep or work or really do anything but hang out with them is incredibly hard.
"Olivia and I have to go home. But Bert and Miss Alina are just coming in to get you ready for your nap. Don't you want to see Bert? He brought his puppy with him."
Maddie tilts her head back, inconsolable. Usually the puppy is a great way to draw a kid’s attention to something positive. But not today. She flings her arms around my shoulders and starts sobbing. "You can't leave! Everybody leaves all the time, and it isn't fair! I don't want you to go!"
Everything in my body seizes up. I raise a trembling hand to the back of her head, putting her wild curls into a gesture that is supposed to be soothing. I glance at Olivia, my eyes welling up.
She knows exactly what I'm struggling with and how much I want the little girl in my arms to be able to rely on me. The only problem is that after Maddie is long gone, I need to stay here at Hope House, ready to open my arms to dozens of other kids without anywhere to go.
Olivia comes over to us, kneeling beside Maddie. She puts her hand on Maddie's shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly.
"I know. I know that it doesn't seem fair. You're allowed to have big feelings about it. That's totally valid. But I'm going to tell you right now, if you don't go upstairs for your nap, Miss Alina is going to miss you. You don't want that, do you?"
Maddie pulls back, her head turning to consider Olivia. Her crying slows, and she wipes a hand across her snotty nose.
"Miss Alina will miss me?" she asks.
"And Bert too. It's their turn to put you to bed and tuck you in. We can't take that away from them. That wouldn't be fair." I stroke Maddie's hair one more time and then gently separate our bodies. She seems pretty fragile, but another older child comes over and grabs her hand.
"I heard that we get pudding cups for snack. Come on, let's go see."
Maddie allows herself to be pulled away from me, her gaze shifting toward the stairs.
I give the older girl a sincere thank you glance, but see that her desire for pudding was genuine.
Olivia stands up, offering me her hand. I take it and get to my feet.
Olivia gestures toward the stairs, calling the kids.
"Come on, everyone. Ms. Alina is waiting for you. Let's go."
The sound of tiny feet clattering up the stairs soon drowns out my anguish. I take a deep breath and look at Olivia, shaking my head. She just jerks her head toward the door, heading over to put on her heavy coat and gloves. "Come on. It's hard to be here, I know."
Bundling myself up, I sigh. "It's necessary, though. If we didn't volunteer, who would take our place? Somebody has to be here for the kids."
Olivia gives me a quiet smile and opens the door for me.
As soon as we step out on an icy, windy day, I want to shrink down into my coat. The cold weather will not leave me any room for emotion. Any tears on my face or any bit of water sniffling from my nose will become frozen soon enough.
Olivia looks out at the cobblestone street, her gaze going straight down to the frenzied gray-green sea. You almost can't see the dark shoreline today because the wind is making the waves so wild.
She shivers and pulls me close, turning away and toward the center of town. We walk along the sidewalk, the houses getting progressively nicer until we reach the commercial district, where the buildings become three and four story tall brick structures.
The town here is admittedly quite charming, with everything looking like it came out of a retro, post-war movie.
All the brownstone houses are well maintained, and the plate glass windows of the businesses are often decorated this time of year with Christmas and Hanukkah lights.
As we take a right, we pass by our favorite bakery and cafe; its broad display window is all decorated with tiny snowflakes.
It’s a magical winter wonderland, white and red cakes and pies nestled in a white silk centerpiece.
I force myself to walk past it, but I definitely notice that there is a big cherry pie sitting next to a red velvet cake with a piece cut out of it right in the front of the display.
I rarely spend money on luxuries like dessert and coffee, especially when someone else makes them. But my stomach rumbles; it's long past lunchtime, and I am getting quite hungry. My footsteps slow.
"Do you want to stop?" Olivia asks.
I blush and shake my head. She always notices my moods—one of her best and worst qualities.
"No, it's fine. I have some leftovers at the bookshop."
Olivia shrugs her shoulders and doesn't press the issue.
At least now that we are closer to the heart of our town, we are farther away from the sea and a little bit warmer.
"Should we talk a little bit about the plans we have for the future of Hope House, of getting a newer house in a better part of our town?"
Olivia is not too interested in the conversation after a moment, so I let it go.
I see that Olivia has a tear in the back of her dark coat.
I stop, catching the ends briefly with my fingertips.
"You have a tear." Olivia looks back and grimaces.
"I know. I just got it last night. I tried to climb over my neighbor's fence to grab my cat, and I heard it rip. Does it look terrible?"
I shrug and start walking again. "Not terrible. But you should let me sew it. There is no need to go around looking tattered and frayed."
"I was just thinking of getting a new coat," she says. "This one is four years old. It has lived a good life."
"You're going to give up a coat that has served you so well without so much as a fight?" I roll my eyes. "Let me take a crack at it. Then you can decide when it's fixed whether you want to spend your precious dollars on a new coat or something more important."
Olivia frowns a little. "Maybe I want a new coat. Maybe I want a different style. I know that you won't approve, but I don't have to patch every hole and mend every ripped seam. I am not as handy as you are."
I shove my hands into my pockets and give her a long look. "You don’t have to be. That's what I'm saying. I'm offering to fix your coat for you."
Her mouth bunches up the way it often does when she wants to say something but bites her tongue. I know that look exactly. After all, we’ve been best friends for almost our entire lives.
"What?" I ask.
"We should talk about something else. Have you got plans for the rest of the week?"
I reply, feeling like I didn't really get my point across about her coat.
"Not exactly. I work at the bookstore every day.
I'm thinking of cooking a lasagna tonight because I have these coupons that go bad pretty soon that are for ground meat, noodles, and cheese.
All totaled, I won't have to spend more than fifteen dollars to make the whole pan of lasagna.
And I know that Minnie likes it when I cook, so. .."
"Fifteen dollars?" Olivia looks at me, surprised. "That's really cheap."