so close to hope

I

When the social worker's car pulls to a stop outside of a small blue house, Rami's heart picks up a little bit.

She runs her hand over her hair, still short and bristly from the buzz cut her last foster father gave her when he wrongly thought she caught lice from someone at school. The hand-me-down dress she's wearing is dingy and stiff, and no matter how much she tugs on it the tag scratches the back of her neck.

The social worker opens the car door and Rami climbs out, hauling the backpack filled with her meager belongings along with her. They're halfway up the front walkway when the front door opens and a blonde woman steps onto the front porch. She's pretty and has a bright, nervous smile, but Rami knows better than to get her hopes up.

The walkie-talkie that she's clutched in her hands since she left the group home is getting clammy in her grip, so she fiddles with it, expecting to be ignored while her new foster parent and the social worker go over paperwork and finances -- that's what they usually care about, how much they'll get to clothe and feed her, how much they'll ultimately get to keep for themselves.

She wonders if Leo -- her best friend back at the group home -- is still holding the walkie-talkie's twin, waiting for her to call, knowing full well the reception doesn't reach this far.

But she's pulled from her thoughts when the blonde woman ignores the social worker completely. Instead she sits back on her haunches until she's eye-level with Rami, and stretches out her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Rami," she says. "I'm Roseanne."

***

After all her years in foster care Rami has learned not to get her hopes up, but Roseanne is making that task very difficult.

She speaks to her like an adult -- not a little kid -- and as soon as the social worker leaves she opens the freezer to show Rami the boxes of Eggos she picked up at the grocery store, which means she must have actually read her file about her likes and dislikes. That's a first.

"So, kiddo, you hungry?"

Rami presses her lips together, fighting back a smile. "Yes," she says.

***

Roseanne talks while Rami eats, and she doesn't seem to mind that her mouth is too full of waffles to answer. She tells her that her wife, Lisa, is at work but she's very excited to meet her.

Rami's ears perk up when Roseanne mentions that Lisa grew up in foster care too, and when Roseanne winks before she steals a piece of waffle from her plate, Rami doesn't even mind. (Another first.)

"I like your hair," Roseanne says, topping up her glass of milk.

Rami swallows the last bite of Eggos and trains her eyes on the table. "I don't."

"Oh, okay. How would you like it to look?"

"Long," Rami says, eyeing Roseanne's flowing hair enviously. "Pretty."

"When I was in college I got my hair cut, like, really short on a dare," Roseanne says, rolling her eyes. "It was horrible, I literally cried for a week -- even though Lisa swore up and down I still looked pretty." Roseanne pauses for a moment, gazing out the window with a small smile on her lips. "Luckily my mom told me about this shampoo that helps your hair grow faster -- I'll pick you up a bottle tomorrow, how does that sound?"

Rami nods, her chest beginning to fill with something suspiciously close to hope. "Good," she says. "That sounds good."

***

Lisa, Rami finds out, is almost everything Roseanne isn't. She's also tall but lean and angular. She's quiet and reserved and, in some ways, reminds Rami of herself.

Leo would like her, she thinks. She clutches the walkie-talkie even tighter.

"What's that?" Lisa asks after Roseanne has introduced them. "In your hand." On instinct, Rami puts her hands behind her, shrinking back a little. Lisa smiles and sits in a chair, putting some more space between them. "It's okay," she says. "I'm just curious. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"My friend has the other one." Rami exhales and relaxes a little. "Leo."

Just saying his name makes her miss him and Rami bites her lip, willing the tears out of her eyes.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Roseanne asks. "We can give you some privacy if you want. Anytime -- just let us know whenever you want to be alone."

Rami nods, and then shakes her head. A hot tear escapes and slides down her cheek. "He won't hear me. It's too far."

She still tries to reach him that night, before she falls asleep in a room that's all pinks and blues -- her favorite colors -- with the walkie-talkie in her hand.

***

Rami doesn't think she knew what love was until she met Roseanne and Lisa.

Before she thought love was what she'd seen in the movies -- all bold declarations and sappy vows. She knows that, in real life, love is anything but -- love can be violent and harsh, hard hands and even harder words.

But for Roseanne and Lisa, it's so soft.

In this tiny blue house, with chipping paint and peeling wallpaper, love comes in the form of lingering touches and bright laughter and coffee in bed. There's love in Lisa's eyes when Roseanne calls out the right answer during Jeopardy!' and there's love in each line of Roseanne's drawings, which always seem to feature Lisa's hands or ears or eyes.

(She's doing a study in the human form, she says, but Rami thinks it's more like a study in Lisa.)

And, if Rami were the type to get her hopes up, she'd find love in the flowery bottles of shampoo Roseanne buys for her and the new, cotton dresses Lisa lets her choose from the store and the never-ending supply of Eggos in the freezer.

But she's not the type. Definitely not.

***

"Hey Ami," Lisa says one day when she comes home from work. Her hands are behind her back, which isn't all that unusual, but something about her smirk makes Rami wary.

Rami had been living with Roseanne and Lisa for six days when Lisa asked if she could shorten her name to "Ami" and, though only Leo had ever called her that, Rami found herself smiling and nodding yes.

"Hi Lisa," she replies.

Rami twists the colored pencil in her hands and watches Lisa with wide eyes as she sits across from her at the table and places a gift-wrapped box in the center.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," Lisa says, looking at her drawing. "You're doing really well."

"She has a good teacher." Roseanne walks into the room and squeezes Rami's shoulder. Based on the way Lisa blushes, Roseanne's giving her her most dazzling smile. "Well, that and she's really talented."

Rami feels her ears heat up and she and Lisa share an embarrassed look, because they both grew up rough and yet Roseanne can disarm them both in three seconds flat.

"What's in the box?" Rami asks.

"It's for you, kiddo."

"Guess you'll have to open it to find out."

Rami's pulse is racing as she places the box in her lap and carefully begins unwrapping it. She takes care not to tear the shiny, pink paper -- it's beautiful, and she'd like to save it. She glances up to see if Roseanne or Lisa want her to go faster, but they're just watching her -- Roseanne now settled in Lisa's lap -- with excited smiles.

Once Rami neatly tears the tape away, she folds the paper into quarters and places it on the table before she finally allows herself to look at the box in her lap.

It's a walkie-talkie. Like hers, but much bigger and heavier.

"We bought another one, too," Roseanne says. "Leo has it."

Lisa nods. "And the signal will reach."

Tears are spilling down Rami's face before she can stop them, and the next thing she knows she's launching herself into Roseanne and Lisa's arms.

They pull her into their laps and hold her, crying with her, and for the first time in her life Rami decides that here, with them, she can hope all she wants.