Chapter 2: An Unexpected Visitor
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It was several hours before Terry was able to coax Debra from her room. Reggie and Ryssa fidgeted as they stood behind their chairs at the dinner table. A simple array of food was spread out on the table before them. Hamburger casserole, corn, bread and butter were all beautifully arranged in the best dishes and displayed like a fancy feast. They’d even lit candles and dimmed the lights to add to the ambiance of elegance. Debra liked to do this from time to time, where they all put on their best manners and pretended to be royalty sitting down to dinner.
When Debra entered the dining room, a smile came to her face. Ryssa noticed it didn’t quite erase the tiredness from her mother’s eyes, so her answering smile was a little timid.
“We wanted to have a special dinner,” Reggie said. “You know, the last day of school and all.” He, too, noticed the lack of full enthusiasm but tried not to let it dampen his spirits. He hoped that as they went along, Debra would warm up to the game they sometimes played and would be a bit better by the end of the meal.
“It’s perfect.” Debra gave each of the children a grateful look. She stepped to her chair and stopped, looking long and hard at the oldest. “Terry, will you please bring another place setting out? And Reggie, be a dear and get another chair. We’ll be having company for dinner tonight.”
Terry’s eyes widened, as did his siblings’. They never had company. But they did as she asked. Ryssa caught the look of comprehension that flashed through Terry’s eyes before he went to retrieve another place setting for the table. So Terry knew who it was. They really were going to have company. Ryssa’s stomach turned, an uneasy feeling settling in place. A knock sounded at the front door and Ryssa jumped, startled, as her brothers came back to the table. They all stopped and looked at Debra.
“Ryssa, sweetie.” Debra let out a deep breath. “Would you get that? Escort our guest into the dining room.”
For the first time, Ryssa noticed her mother was wearing something other than the fuzzy green bathrobe she always wrapped around her these days. Debra Chambly was simply dressed, in jeans and a button-up shirt. A long sweater vest was worn over the outfit, and her favorite locket, silver and heart-shaped, was draped around her neck to hang mid-chest. Ryssa knew the locket held pictures of her and Reggie on one side and Terry on the other. Another knock sounded at the door and Ryssa jumped again.
“Ryssa?”
Ryssa went to the door with a guilty nod. She heard her brothers resetting the table and shifting everything around to accommodate the mysterious guest. The horrible sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t go away. In fact, it was getting worse. She reached for the doorknob and flinched as the knocking came yet again. With an anxious smile, Ryssa opened the door. She blinked, not quite sure just what she was seeing.
A short, plump woman stood on the front porch, bathed in a mixture of shadows and light. She wore a bright purple, baggy dress that stretched snugly in places around her round frame. Ryssa had always hated being short, but this woman barely topped five feet. Bright blue eyes stared back at her from behind thick, dark-framed glasses. The woman had a small, round nose and a warm smile. Perched on top of her head was a bright orange hat with floppy pink flowers, a perfect match for the shoes she wore, neither of which came close to matching her dress.
“Oh my,” the woman said, her smile widening. “You just can’t be Maryssa—you’re all grown up!” She leaned into the doorway, tilted her glasses, and peered intently at the girl as though examining her through a magnifying glass. “But, yes! There’s that little mole. Child, you have grown into quite the beauty.”
Ryssa self-consciously brought a hand up to cover the offending object, while the woman toddled in the door. Ryssa was taken off guard and it took her a moment to realize that the strange old woman was in the house. She closed the door and trailed after her, the unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach getting worse.
“Debra…Terry,” the woman greeted the two with big hugs. Reggie looked questioningly at his sister who was just coming into the dining room. She shrugged, having no answer to give. “And Reginald, you have grown into a fine young man!” She came around the table and clasped his hands enthusiastically with plump fingers while Reggie scowled. He hated his full first name.
“Mom?” Ryssa stepped up to Debra and put a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention. Debra started.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Reggie, Ryssa, this is Mary Rutridge of the Silverwood Adoption Agency. She is the one responsible for placing you with me.”
Ryssa felt her heart stop and drop down to her toes. Her feeling of foreboding had been right. The woman was here to take her and Reggie away. She looked at her brother to see the same dismay mirrored on his face. It was Reggie who spoke first.
“Miss Rutridge?”
“Call me Mary, dear.” She gently patted his hand. “And don’t worry. I’m not here to take you away from your home.” She frowned. “At least not permanently.”
“What do you—?” Ryssa started.
“Will you look at this wonderful dinner?” Mary clapped her hands in delight. She brushed at her wrinkled clothing. “I’m glad I wore my best dress. Everything looks so fancy—candles, even! Bless you for making an old woman feel welcome.”
“The children did it,” Debra’s voice was strained. “Why don’t we all sit down and eat before it gets cold?”
“Yes, of course.” Mary looked to Reggie. He was puzzled. Suddenly remembering his manners, he jumped to move a chair out from the table, helping her to sit. “Thank you, dear.” She turned to Debra who was moving into her seat at the head of the table. “You have raised them to be fine, proper children, Debra.”
“I’m quite proud of them.” The look of love in Debra’s eyes softened the tension.
“Mom, what does she mean—?” Ryssa asked.
“Be a good girl and have a seat,” Mary said with a matronly smile. “We’ll talk about the reason for my visit after dinner.”
Ryssa glared at Mary over being treated like a child. With arms crossed, she sat down at the table, scowling at her plate without really seeing it.
“So how have the children been doing in their studies at school?” Mary helped herself to a plateful of hamburger casserole. She passed the spoon to Reggie and started in on the corn.
“Well enough,” Debra replied.
Ryssa gave her mother a grateful glance. She really didn’t want to have this woman hear about her grades. It would have made her humiliation complete.
“And their other studies?” Mary reached for the bread. When there was no reply, Mary turned to Debra, raising an eyebrow. “You have been pursuing their other studies? You told me before that you had—as per the instructions?”
“What other studies, Mom?” Reggie looked between the two women.
“Oh, dear. Debra, I was explicit in detailing what manner of things you were to be teaching the children. It could be considered a breach of the fosterage agreement. You know I can only protect their position here if—”
“I am well aware of the details of the agreement,” Debra snapped. Then the tension drained out of her and Reggie and Ryssa both were dismayed at how tired she looked. “I couldn’t—I haven’t been able to find a teacher in those particular studies. It’s a rather odd sort of study, and I didn’t know where to start looking without—”
Pursing her lips, Mary looked serious for a moment. “Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now. When they return after the summer, I’ll see to it that a tutor is arranged. It will put them at a slight disadvantage, but it’s too late to worry about that now.”
“Return from where?” Ryssa asked, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. Both women turned and blinked, almost as though just realizing was there. “Where are we supposed to be going for the summer?” Ryssa repeated.
“Debra, didn’t you tell them?”
“Tell us what?” Ryssa felt warm with her rising anger. This didn’
t sound good at all.
“I was going to tell them after school. But then the snacks and the smoke and—”
“Mom!”
“Don’t be rude dear,” Mary chastised. “Well. This isn’t turning out to be as pleasant as I had hoped.” She drew in a steadying breath. “So be it. Children, part of your fosterage arrangement was that once you turn thirteen years old—which will be tomorrow—you are to attend summer camp every year until you turn eighteen—umm, a specific summer camp already chosen for you.”
“What?” Ryssa jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over.
“Cool!” Reggie’s eyes lit with excitement. “Is this for real?”
“This can’t be for real! Mom, tell her. I can’t go to summer camp every year! It’ll be the death of me! I’ll have absolutely no social life whatsoever. What about my friends? What about my plans for the summer? This can’t be happening. Mom, tell her!”
“That will be enough, young lady.”
“You are not my mother. I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“No,” Mary slapped the palm of her hand on the table loud enough to make Ryssa jump, “but if you don’t attend this camp as stipulated, Debra Chambly won’t be your mother, either.”
Ryssa gaped at Mary.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do mean that,” Mary held up her hand to stop further argument, “but it’s not up to me. These conditions were placed on your fosterage by the people who gave you into my care. It took us over a year to find someone who was willing to abide by all of the requested conditions. If Debra Chambly hadn’t come along, you quite possibly might have ended up in the orphanage to this day, and we wouldn’t be having this discussion. But she did come along, and has taken quite good care of you—well, except for neglecting a few important points.
“But this isn’t going to go away, and it can’t be ignored. Originally, they wanted custody back once you turned thirteen. For your sake, and for Debra’s emotional protection, I was able to argue it down to summer camp, where you’ll be spending some time with the people who gave you to be put into Debra’s care. So you will go to summer camp, or full custody will return to people whom you haven’t seen since you were a baby and whom I doubt very much that you remember.”
“So let me get this straight.” Reggie’s mood shifted and his anger became apparent. “The people who didn’t care enough about us to keep us in the first place—the people who gave us over to strangers to raise, with the possibility that we might have ended up as unwanted kids neglected in some orphanage—have the right to see us now and get to dictate to our mother on how we’ll be raised? They have a say on what happens in our lives, when they put us aside like an abandoned toy on a forgotten shelf and have decided that now it’s okay to take us down and play with us? What a crock!”
“Reggie!” Debra scolded. “You don’t know what made them place you into fosterage. There could be extenuating circumstances that you know nothing about.”
“Like what? Don’t get me wrong, Mom, I like the idea of going to camp. I just don’t like them playing with our lives this way.”
“Me either,” Ryssa mumbled. She bent down and picked up her chair, and then sat with her arms crossed against her stomach.
“I know—but I also know that I agreed to this. How could I not? The other option was not to have you guys in my life. How could I have done that?”
The twins looked at their mother with gratitude and love.
“Well, I’m not going to make it easy on them,” Ryssa said. “I have a few years of attitude stored up that they may only think they missed out on.”
“Yeah.” Reggie smiled at his sister. “Maybe you can hang onto to it throughout the year and save us from dealing with it here at home.”
Everyone at the table laughed, even Ryssa.
“Don’t be too hard on them,” Debra said at last. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even like them.”
“Yeah, right.” Ryssa rolled her eyes.
Reggie muttered something about loyalty that no one quite caught.
“Well,” Mary said, “then it’s settled. I guess we’ll leave in the morning.”
“No.” Terry finally spoke.
Mary blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It’s their birthday tomorrow. At least have the decency to leave after lunch, so we can have cake and presents and stuff.”
“Of course.” Mary smiled. “That sounds like fun. We’ll still have plenty of time to make it to the rendezvous point. I actually have a couple of gifts for them myself.”
Terry nodded, satisfied. Reggie gave him a grateful glance. The rest of dinner was quiet, with only a little idle chatter breaking an otherwise uneasy silence. When everyone was finished, Debra left to talk with Mary on the front porch, their voices low. The children cleaned up and put away the odds and ends.
“Not much leftovers.” Terry elbowed his brother. “I think the old lady actually ate more than you did. Never thought I’d see anyone top that.”
Reggie smiled, but his heart wasn’t in it. His movements were mechanical, his emotions numb. He was getting an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t used to it and definitely didn’t like it.