How to Get Dirt (3 page)

Mrs. Beazley drove her
van
into a parking lot next to a group of townhouses and pulled into an open space. The black door on the unit directly in front of them contrasted starkly with the white siding
,
but the colorful welcome sign made Pickles smile.

“
This is it,
”
Mrs. Beazley said
, switching off the ignition
.
“
You excited?
”

Pickles nodded
, struggling
out of her seatbelt. She opened the car door and then jumped out. She collected her backpack
,
swung it over her shoulder, and then she
whirled
around
to walk
toward the front door. Before she could knock, the door opened
;
her new foster parents
stood at the other side of it, once again looking so
perfect Pickles
wanted to cry in joy.

My family. This
is my
family now. I
hope they do
eventually adopt me.

“
Hi, Pickles,
”
Miranda said.
“
Sorry
if we startled you
. We were watching from the window. You have no idea how
excited we
are to have you here.
”

Stepping forward, Miranda swept Pickles up into her arms
to hold
her close. Pickles shut her eyes and
tingled with suppressed happiness
. Her heart warmed
. Happiness swelled so strong within her
,
she could have flown
. A moment later, David stepped forward
to embrace her too
. His arms were gentler than Miranda
'
s, which surprised Pickles, but she
felt her heart grow warm all the same
. When David drew back, he then pecked her on the forehead.

“
Welcome to our home,
”
he said.
“
We have a room
upstairs
for you.
”

“
You mean I get my own room?
”
Pickles asked, shocked.
The last family she
'
d lived with, the
Johnsons
, had given her a room with four other kids. The two sets of bunk beds had taken up so much space in the small room, the only thing they could do in there was sleep.

“
You
look
surprised,
”
Miranda said.

“
I
'
ve never had my own room before,
”
Pickles said,
hopping in excitement
.
“
I always had to share with the other kids. I can
'
t believe it.
”

“
Well, then, Miranda, why don
'
t you show Pickles her room, since she
'
s so excited?
”
David
said
.
“
I
'
ll help with her things. You do have more, don
'
t you?
”

But Mrs. Beazley was already walking
inside the house
with
Pickles
'
suitcase
in-hand
. She
set
it down in front of them
on the floor
, smiling
.
“
This is it.
”

Both Miranda and David exchanged looks again.
Did
they
have
a secret
language
Pickles
was missing out on
?

“
That
'
s all she has?
”
Miranda asked.

“
Really?
”
David raised an eyebrow.

“
The kids in foster care don
'
t always have much,
”
Mrs. Beazley admitted.

“
I
'
ve always had more than I needed,
”
Pickles said, grabbing her suitcase
while
beaming.
“
Really. I
'
m just fine, Mr. and Mrs. Harris. No need to worry.
”

But both of them appeared
apprehensive
. Miranda
'
s red lips were pursed
as
she stared at the ground in concern. At her side, David shuffled from side to side
,
frowning
at the expensive looking painting on the wall. Pickles began to feel queasy herself.

“
Well
…
”
Mrs. Beazley
peered
from Pickles to Mr. and Mrs.
Harris.
“
M
aybe I should let you become acquainted with one another. I
'
ll just say goodbye to Pickles
now
.
”

Queasiness fluttered in her stomach, making Pickles wish she hadn
'
t eaten such a big breakfast.
Saying goodbye to Mrs. Beazley always made her feel sad inside. She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around Mrs. Beazley
'
s neck,
and
let herself absorb some of her old friend
'
s warmth
.
Tears prick
ed
her eyes
.

“
Goodbye, Mrs. Beazley,
”
Pickles said.
“
I
'
ll miss you. Come visit when you can, okay?
”

Mrs. Beazley hugged her so
hard all
of the air was forced from her lungs with a squeak.
“
Yes
, of course I will. I love you
,
Pickles.
”

“
I love you too.
”

When Mrs. Beazley released her, she sniffled and then
walked away
. Pickles forced down the lump in her throat
.
She tried to control the big
feelings within her
—
the fear, the excitement, the self-doubt
. Miranda and David appeared to
be nice
, but
at that moment,
an awkward silence hung in the air, reminding her she didn
'
t know them at all.

She placed her hand on her suitcase handle
before taking a seat at the pale covered
sofa
. Even the watercolors on the wall were muted and all the sunlight filtering through the window left her snow-blind from the carpe
t
.

“
You have
a nice
house, Mrs. Harris,
”
Pickles said, struggling to find something to say.

Pickles glanced at the expensive television and inhaled the scent of sauce and garlic in the air. When Pickles tore her eyes away from the TV thinking,
Everything is so clean
, she noted Miranda chewed her bottom lip as if also fighting to find something to say.

“
You
can call me Miranda,
”
Miranda said
, her voice
drenched in
nervousness
.
“
You
can call David
by his first name too
,
all right
?
”

“
That
'
s right,
”
David said.

“
Thank you, Miranda,
”
Pickles said, her heart pounding in her chest.

She almost missed the overcrowded foster ho
mes
now. With them, there had been too much screaming to focus on the awkward silence. Then again, that had been confusing too. Hardly anyone
told her what she was supposed to do
.

“
I should show you to your room, then, shall I?
”
Miranda
asked
.

“
I
'
ll take your suitcase, Pickles.
”
David scooped it up before she could tell
him she
was fine on her own.

“
Thank you,
”
Pickles said.

Miranda began walking up the stairs with David following behind her.
The same heavy silence permeated the air
. When they made it to the top floor, Pickles went around the corner and
skidded to a stop. A gasp escaped her throat
. The
bedroom Miranda
led her t
o
was
beautiful. It was painted ivy
and had green-toned watercolor paintings hanging on the walls.
A silver silk comforter had been spread across the bed. Bookshelves
lining
one wall
had been
filled with so many children
'
s books Pickles didn
'
t think she
'
d need to visit the library for a long time.
In silent awe, Pickles entered the room.
She had never seen so much stuff just for her in her entire life
. All of this? Hers? She felt like she was a princess. She spun around.

“
There is so much,
”
Pickles said.
“
This room is massive and so beautiful.
”

Miranda blushed.
“
It isn
'
t
much. When we
found
out you
w
ere
coming to stay with us, we just wanted to make
sure you
would be comfortable. We weren
'
t even
sure you
would like it.
”

“
Are you kidding?
”
Pickles leap
ed
at Miranda
to hug her tight
. She
knew some
people thought she hugged too much
, but she couldn
'
t contain herself now. The room was so beautiful.
“
This is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
”

“
Oh, Pickles,
”
Miranda said.
“
You make me feel so spoiled.
”

It
took a
moment before Pickles stepped away, grinning.
“
No, it
'
s you
who
make
s
me feel so spoiled
.
I never imagined parents who
…
Oops…
I mean foster parents who…
”

Heat
fill
ed
her face.
Good going, Pickles. Way to jump to conclusions way too fast. They aren
'
t your parents.
She shrugged her shoulders
,
walked over to the bookshelf
,
and tried hard not to look at Miranda or David. She knew it was childish, but she had to recover from her slip
up, and she wasn
'
t the most grac
eful at
figuring out what to say
. Just as she
gazed
at a bright yellow book, she felt two warm arms wrap around her shoulders.

“
I
'
m glad you
'
re here, Pickles,
”
Miranda said.
“
You
'
re just the child we
'
ve been waiting for.
”

A wave of relief rushed over Pickles, engulfing her heart with warmth. The hope she had
that
this was her destined family strengthened. Miranda didn
'
t appear to care she had slipped up.