Chapter Twelve
Aasia gripped her cell phone. “It’s okay that you can’t make it for my birthday, Mom. There will always be others.”
“You’re such an understanding daughter, Mouse.” Anna used the nickname she used when she was being saccharine sweet. “Sorry to cut this call short, but I must run. My break is almost over, and you know how pissy Harvey can be if I’m a minute late.”
Harvey was the manager at the laundromat where her mother worked the desk and handled the machines. Aasia had a suspicion that Anne and Harvey were more than just boss and employee, but Aasia didn’t have the motivation to ask.
“No problem. We can talk soon.” Soon meant in a few weeks, not a day sooner.
After hanging up, Aasia reminded herself that it truly didn’t matter that her mother wouldn’t be here for a third birthday in a row. It also no longer mattered that her mother wasn’t perfect. At least she held down a job and only asked for money on holidays and not every month like she used to.
Aasia learned early on, around four years old, that her mother wasn’t like the others, not even close.
Although back then Aasia had no clue that Anne had a drug and alcohol habit and spent most of her time passed out and not sleeping as it had looked like in the eyes of a child.
It was in those early years that Aasia became self-reliant.
While Anne lay sprawled out on the sofa, Aasia had spent time with her babysitter. The TV.
At seven, her mother’s habit had spiraled out of control and instead of crashing on the couch after a hard night out with friends, Anne started forgetting to come home.
Sometimes for a few days, and one time for an entire week, and that was when neighbors started noticing.
Her mother had been good at manipulation and convinced those who were curious that Aasia had a sitter, but eventually the pieces started falling into place.
When the case worker showed up at the door and asked questions, Aasia wasn’t brave enough to lie, especially for her mother.
That night she ended up in foster care.
Home for the Blessed and Displaced wasn’t much better than being with her mother. Aasia was told that she would reunite with Anne when she agreed to and completed treatment.
Blessed and Displaced had taught Aasia a few valuable lessons.
There were too many kids at the home, too many strict rules, and too many mean caseworkers who said they cared but didn’t.
When any of the children misbehaved, they were locked in their rooms which were no bigger than a jail cell with a cot and fed baby food.
Aasia still couldn’t bear the thought of eating spinach.
At night, Tammy Corch, a portly round woman with messy corkscrew curls, crooked features, and a chronic snarl, would visit each room handing the children a clear plastic cup with a pink pill Tammy had aptly named “Sweet Dreams”.
It took only a few weeks for Aasia to realize the staff was sedating the children so they wouldn’t—couldn’t—run away.
Maybe that little pill was a way to keep the children from bothering the staff with their nightmares and sobbing.
There was a lot of crying that happened in that old, dilapidated Victorian home on Elm Street.
Especially at night when the thin threadbare blankets didn’t quite keep out the chill and the mice clawed at the walls.
Aasia would secretly spit out the pill just as soon as Ms. Tammy would scoot off down the corridor in her noisy, white practical shoes. Aasia could have killed a horse with the amount of pills she had inside the pillow. She’d loosened some thread and it was a perfect hiding spot.
At some point though a staff-search turned up the discarded pills and Tammy the Terror had been livid. Every night thereafter the portly woman checked Aasia’s mouth to make sure the pill went down the hatch.
Aasia decided it was for the best because she was one of those lonely children who cried at night.
One day a caseworker came to the home and told Aasia that her mother had met every prerequisite set by the court to get Aasia back. Anne had entered treatment for her addiction, got a stable job, and secured a decent home. Aasia was then allowed to return back to her mother’s care.
That lasted for almost a year. Actually, ten months, three days, and thirty minutes.
Aasia was shipped off again when her mother relapsed and her surprise drug test was dirty.
Aasia wasn’t returned to Blessed and Displaced.
Instead, she went to stay with a single grandmother, Christy O’Rourk.
At first, Aasia thought she’d won the lottery.
The only things she could remember about the woman was that she sounded like Marg Simpson and smelled like cheap, floral perfume.
Outside of Aasia handling all the chores while Christy sat eating her feelings and watching Wheel of Fortune, Aasia was left alone.
Except for school, which she hated. There she wanted to fade away and sit in the corner.
No one was nice at the new school. Apparently, she wasn’t Christy’s first foster child, and the kids had caught onto the rotating door.
Immediately Aasia stuck out like a sore thumb.
They called names. Didn’t accept her into their circle of friends, which she didn’t care about because she didn’t want to be friends with them.
By then she’d started devising a plan. Once her mother got well again, she’d make sure she never got taken away for a third time. She’d be self-sufficient and learn to lie when the caseworker came for the surprise visits.
So, that was exactly what had happened when she finally went back home, almost nine years old.
Her mother came to pick her up, but this time she wasn’t alone.
She had a new husband. Chuck Norris, not to be confused with the martial artist, was a chain smoking, ex-military guy who seemed okay.
He wasn’t creepy and he didn’t walk around in his stained boxers like all the other men that came and went.
To Aasia, it didn’t matter if things were okay because she’d already decided she would make things work. No way would she go to live with smelly Christy or to the displaced house of drugged kids ever again.
As luck would have it, Chuck has actually been cool and eventually became a father-figure to her.
He didn’t have any kids of his own and she could tell he’d always wished he had the opportunity.
He worked at a factory and would come home dirty from head to toe and Anne would always complain that he smelled like rotten eggs.
Aasia loved that he could ruffle her mother’s feathers.
Chuck always made sure there was food, not microwaveable food either, on the table, the electric was turned on, and Anne behaved herself.
For a while, it seemed like they were as close to a normal family as possible.
With Chuck as a partner Anne was pleasantly different. Happy. She even started having mother-daughter conversations with Aasia. Life was good. Acceptable.
Aasia even had a tight circle of friends at school. She no longer felt unwanted.
One day, Aasia came home and Chuck and Anne had popped the news that they were expecting. Five months later they brought home a baby girl wrapped in a soft, pink blanket from the hospital.
Aasia fell in love with her sister, Phoebe. She really seemed to like Aasia too. In fact, her cries often quieted when Aasia held her. She knew she’d never allow her sister to experience foster care.
That was when Pedora, Chuck’s sister, came into the picture. At first, Aasia feared the rough and unfiltered woman, but soon her kindness turned over a new leaf for Aasia. They became good friends and eventually Pedora considered Aasia her niece too.
Pedora had a farm and moved a trailer to the property so that Chuck and his family could move there. He had once said that his sister was lonely because she too had never had any children.
A few years later, tragedy struck the family. Chuck had been working a late shift at work when he collapsed from a massive heart attack.
Their lives were never the same. Anne was never the same. She sunk into a deep depression. Scared that a caseworker would show up again, Aasia made sure she took up the slack. She cleaned, cooked, made sure she and Phoebe were taken care of while their mother slept and recovered.
Until the money ran out and Anne had no choice but to get a job.
Two jobs that kept her gone most of the time.
Pedora took Phoebe and Aasia under her wings. While Anne worked, the girls stayed at Pedora’s where they could run and play on the land and soak in their aunt’s care, who seemed to enjoy every minute too.
Then another tragedy struck.
Anne fell and broke her leg. Then she started taking pain meds, and soon after the drinking started again.
That change became the before and after moment for Aasia.
A knock on the door drew her out of her memories.
Heading toward the door, she pulled it open, and her stomach fluttered.