The Foster Girls #2: Finland

Prologue 2

Thirteen years earlier...

The four of us girls snuggled under the blankets, trying to get warm in the chilly room.

"OK," I said softly, "tonight's story is the tale of the Foster girls' Christmas."

I paused a moment, waiting for my best friends -- my sisters by choice -- to settle a bit more before I began.

"Mr. and Mrs. Foster had four beautiful daughters: Harper, Finnie, Willow and Elizabeth and they were called Harp, Fin, Will and Bet. They lived in a little house that looked like Snow White's cottage.

"Every December first, the girls and their parents got into their car and drove far out into the countryside to a special Christmas tree farm. After walking through the snow for hours, the girls finally found the perfect tree. It was seven feet tall and would look perfect in their family room, where they played board games every night."

"And drank hot chocolate," Harper added on a whisper.

"And drank hot chocolate with whipped cream on top, sprinkled with chocolate shavings."

"Chocolate chip cookies," Elizabeth said so softly you could barely hear.

"And every night, they ate homemade cookies with their hot chocolate, perfect chocolate chip cookies that were always fresh out of the oven.

"That night, Mr. Foster set up the tree in front of the window that looked out onto their backyard garden, which at this time of the year was covered in glittering white snow."

The girls sighed thinking about it and I felt that familiar thrill I got when people reacted to my stories.

"While they decorated the tree, snow began softly falling, and the Christmas carols were playing so the girls all sang along with their mother and father. The tree lights glittered white in the room, and the ornaments sparkled. It was perfect.

"When they were done, the six of them stretched out on soft, fluffy blankets with their cookies and cocoa their mother had made and talked about Christmases past. Then, right before the girls went to bed, their mother and father gave them two packages each: one had new flannel nightgowns, all matching, and the other had new soft slippers. The girls went to bed in their new nightgowns and when they woke up in the morning, they found their stocking filled at the foot of their bed. There were fun things in their stockings: gum and barrettes, ponytail holders and lip glosses and candy and little puzzles and toys."

"I can see it," Willow said.

"Then their mother and father called for them to come downstairs for Christmas morning breakfast. So they ran downstairs with their new slippers on and ate a huge breakfast as quickly as possible. Chocolate chip pancakes and crispy bacon and coffeecake and freshly squeezed orange juice and they poured real live maple syrup over their fluffy pancakes."

"You're making me hungry," Harper groaned.

"Then finally, they ran into the family room and there were brightly wrapped presents for each girl. Brand new clothes and toys and shoes and games and all sorts of wonderful things. And then, just when they thought it was over..."

I paused, drawing out the suspense, making my sisters wonder what could possibly top this. "Then their father disappeared into the laundry room and came out holding a brown, floppy-eared puppy. The girls all shouted and laughed and their dad put the puppy down and he raced all over while the girls chased him. After they played, they decided to name the puppy...Fred."

All my sisters sighed at the thought of having an adorable puppy named Fred.

"The four girls played with their new puppy outside in the pure white snow until it was time to come inside for Christmas dinner. They had turkey and ham and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and rolls with butter and stuffing and then desserts. It was another perfect Christmas."

There was total silence for a few minutes. We all knew that the real Christmas when we woke up tomorrow would be nothing like the one I made up.

"Finnie, I love your stories," Harper sighed.

"They help," Willow agreed and Elizabeth nodded.

"I think someday they'll come true," Willow added. "We'll all have husbands and children and we'll have real Christmases. All of us. Together."

I secretly loved hearing that my stories made my sisters happy. Then, while they settled down in their own beds, I traced the scars that ran down my cheek and repeated all the names I'd ever heard my classmates call me.

Scarface.

Jigsaw.

Frankenstein.

Monster.

Puzzle face.

Even at that age, I knew words were powerful. They could hurt, but they could also make you forget where you were and take you to a better place.