* * *
“Adopted? And what does that mean, Mom?”
“It means we took you into relationship as our child a long time ago,” his foster mother replied, looking up to his foster father for support.
“Yes, Matthew, and it also means we’ll take good care of all your needs until death do us part,” Mr. Quentin added.
“Talk of looooove,” Stephanie crooned.
“Yeah, whatever,” Nora said, looking up to the heavens.
“We’re telling you this, darling, because . . . because things might get out of hand in school,” her mother quickly told her adopted brother.
“People . . . your friends, Matthew, might . . . talk,” her father explained. “You just have to ignore them.”
“Talk?” Matthew sat on his adopted mother’s lap and Stephanie lay on the rug before the big sofa in the living room. She had skipped ballet class due to this family ‘meeting’ and had been rewarded with a bowl of cookies, while Nora was getting her coupe refueled by Mom. Matthew thought Stephanie was really enjoying herself. Maybe all the fun lay in trying to figure out grown-ups, because they always complained about their work, gas prices and life. A good example would be Nora, who appeared tensed up at the moment. No family fun for that one, Matthew thought. Sadly.
“I hope you understand what I just said, Matthew?” his foster father repeated.
“I can handle my friends, Dad,” he said.
“Yeah, I thought as much,” Nora told him. “You perfectly understand the situation here, don’t you, Mr. Tinkerhead?”
“Nora.”
“But Mom, who’s gonna protect me in school? Who’s gonna protect Stephanie?”
“I’m alright,” Stephanie pointed out. “I don’t need protection, Miss Fine Face.”
“Children, please stop name-calling yourselves,” their father ordered wearily. “Now, Nora, you know your friends are old enough to keep themselves out of other people’s business.”
“It’s not their problem, Dad, that’s why they won’t stay out of it. Besides, I’m popular? And I’ve got . . . enemies?”
“That should be your personal problem, Nora,” her mother told her. “You must learn to get along with everyone, but ignore them if they start spreading lies about your foster brother, like your father said.”
“You—You don’t understand, Mom.” Nora was livid. “Patricia will eat me alive.”
“Who’s Patricia?” Stephanie chided. “Your girlfriend?”
“Dad?” Nora said, fuming.
“Stephanie,” her father sternly warned his youngest daughter.
“Just joking,” Stephanie whined.
“Where’s my real mother?” Matthew asked suddenly.
“She left you out in the cold and ran away,” Nora bluntly told him without thinking twice about it. “She’s an evil monster.”
“Nora,” her mother gasped, sitting up straight. “Apologize.”
“No.”
“Apologize, Nora,” Dad directed.
“No, Dad,” Nora snapped, standing up. “I’ve had enough of this! I’m sick and tired of you two trying to make him alone feel at home. For all I care, he doesn’t belong here! He’s not my brother anymore! I should’ve said this ten years ago.”
Matthew was staring at her.
He had tears in his eyes.
“Alright, Nora,” her father finally said. “Go to your room.”
She ran.