so close to hope

XI

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

You unbuckle your seatbelt and shove the door open before the social worker has even turned the engine off, and you hear her calling after you as you jog up the front walkway. A pretty blonde woman opens the door and stands on the front porch. She smiles at you and looks past you to the street, where the car is parked, raising her hand in greeting.

But all of that is background noise to you, because you've caught a flash of a pink dress behind the woman, and an instant later Rami pushes past her and you nearly topple over when the two of you collide.

"Leo," she whispers, arms wrapping around your neck. "Leo."

***

The blonde (Roseanne, Ami tells you) confirms the time the social worker will pick you up tonight, and as soon as the car pulls away from the curb you feel like a weight has been lifted. Ami grabs your hand and guides you into the kitchen, where her other foster mom (Lisa) is setting out three different kinds of chocolate pudding.

"We weren't sure which was your favorite," she says.

She glances at your and Rami's joined hands and then at Roseanne, who's making bug-eyes at Lisa, looking like she's about to burst.

"Oh, wow," you say, and you hate it -- because you wish you were tougher -- but you feel kinda touched. "I'm not picky. Let's start with the Swiss Miss."

"Alright, then," Roseanne says, grinning at you as she places two pudding cups and a pair of spoons on the table.

You drop Ami's hand and sit across from her, facing the window. In the reflection of the glass, you see Roseanne walk up to Lisa and press her face into the crook of her neck, like she's stifling a laugh or scream or something.

She seems kinda wacky. You like her already.

"Your hair is a lot longer, Ami," you say.

She smiles at you, and when she finishes delicately peeling the foil off the top of the pudding cup she runs a hand through her hair. She finger-brushes a few locks down beside her temple, and then pushes them behind her ear, where they stay put. She raises her eyebrows and, because you speak Rami, you know she's saying "see?"

"That's awesome," you say. "You'll have it back in a ponytail in no time."

Ami presses her lips together, lashes fluttering, and then she dips her spoon into her pudding. You follow suit, gobbling up your pudding in three bites, and then Lisa hands you another cup before you even ask.

She and Roseanne are sort of puttering about the kitchen, talking quietly with each other to give you and Ami privacy, but you can tell part of their attention is on the two of you.

When Roseanne opens the freezer to get ice for the pitcher of lemonade she's making you see three boxes of Eggos piled on one side. Lisa squeezes Rami's shoulder when she pours you each a glass and Ami leans her head to the side, resting her cheek on her fingers for a few short seconds.

Something about those two moments, stacked one on top of the other, hits you like a freight train. You feel breathless with second-hand gratitude.

Roseanne meets your gaze and gives you a shallow nod, and you think there's thankfulness in her eyes, too.

***

After you eat, Ami shows you her treehouse. You've heard a lot about it over the walkie-talkie -- how Roseanne and Lisa's friends built it one weekend and came back a couple weeks later to paint -- but somehow it's even cooler than you imagined.