The Uncanny Accuracy of Fate

Chapter 15

15

I'm in line at Starbucks the first time I start questioning my 'parenting' skills. It all starts with 5 words.

"What can I get you?" From the tow-headed, slender barista behind the counter. I quickly place my order, a tall double hazelnut latte, and then the dismay sets in. Cami got a green tea latte last week. I know she likes tea, but how does she like her coffee? Does she even drink coffee?- and oh my god I left a sleeping teenager with some clear attachment issues alone in my apartment! What if she wakes up and I'm gone and- "Ma'am? That's going to be $8.64." Oh, right.

I grab my drinks (I'd ordered another of the same for Cami in my haze) and hurtle towards the subway as fast as the 4 bags of groceries I'm carrying will let me. Walking through my apartment door 13 minutes later, I'm immediately on high alert for any sign of trouble. I drop the bags on the kitchen floor and go into my bedroom, bracing myself for the worst. What I see causes me to let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. Cami's still blissfully asleep, in more or less the same position she was in when I snuck out this morning. I close the door as quietly as I can, deciding I'll let her stock up on some much needed rest.

I bustle around the kitchen as quietly as possible, which truth be told isn't quietly at all; at least 2 utensils have hit the floor with alarming crashes. I've made scrambled eggs, sourdough toast, and hash browns before I decide Cam's going to have to get on a normal sleep schedule eventually, so might as well start now. I make my way back into the room with the sleeping girl, pulling up the blinds before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Cami? Babe, it's almost 11. Do you want to wake up?" After a second, she opens one eye and grunts incoherently. "I have coffee!" Now the other eye's open. I help her sit up a little and hand her the cup, rambling about my trouble deciding what to order her. As I talk I notice her eyes glazing over a little. Is she thinking about last night? I just wish she would open up.

"-and it's what I always get so I grabbed you one too!" She just stares back at me blankly. "The coffee?" She looks confused, and I gesture at the cup in her hand.

"It's great!" I look suspiciously back at her. I've been sitting here this whole time and she hasn't taken a sip of it. She does now, and apparently it's still hot, because she yelps, and tries to disguise it as a cough. At this point, I'm just entertained.

"Come on, I made breakfast." Maybe I'm imagining it, but I think I see something in her face shift ever so slightly when I make the announcement. Nevertheless, she follows me out to the kitchen and sits while I grab the plates. When I put the food down in front of her, she stares at it for a second like it's the most complicated math problem she's ever seen. She then closes her eyes briefly, which is a blessing because it gives me time to rearrange the worried look off of my face. When she opens them again, she picks up her knife and fork and starts dissecting her food with the intensity of a biologist on the brink of a new discovery. I try not to stare, but I notice she divides her hash browns into 4, breaks the piece of bread in half, and carefully sets aside 3 strawberries. She takes a bite and I hold my breath, but relax as she puts on a big smile.

"Pippa, this is amazing, thank you!" She continues to eat, but stops after she's finished only about a third of it. After a second of her staring at the plate blankly, I put my hand on her shoulder.

"Do you think you can eat a little bit more? Just a couple more bites, love." She nods and I turn to my own food as she starts again. After about a minute I see tears rolling down her cheeks, but she continues to robotically load up her fork and take bites. I gently bring my hand up to her face and brush away her tears with my thumb.

"It's okay, you can stop eating. Cami, please stop if it's hurting you." As the words leave my mouth, she drops her fork, flinching as it clatters on the ceramic plate. I can tell she's on the verge of full blown panic, and I corner her in an embrace as she frantically tries to flee the kitchen. She doesn't fight like she did last night, but clings to me instead.

"I'm so tired." The whisper is barely audible, but I hear her. I don't know what I could possibly say in this moment to make anything any better, and I just pull her closer to me.

We stand in the kitchen for what might be 5 minutes or an hour, I don't know. I do know that when she eventually pulls away, all her tears have dried, and I'm hoping my red eyes don't give away the ones I shed. I can tell she's praying that I won't ask, and I don't. I do however, remind her that it's Tuesday and I have a show tonight.

"...and I want you to come to the theatre with me." She takes a step back, shaking her head.

"No, I'll just be in the way. It's work for you, and I shouldn't be there distracting-"

"Cam, I've cleared it with the stage manager already, you can just hang out in my dressing room and nap or read or something." I don't add this part, but I'm terrified to leave her alone, especially at night. I won't be able to perform without knowing she's safe.

"Also, the girls are begging to see you again. Jasmine's appointed herself your 'personal stylist'." I make sure to include air quotes so she knows they're Jazzy's words, and Cami snorts with laughter. "She wants to take you shopping tomorrow, or whenever you're feeling up to it. She told me she has a vision, don't ask me what she means by that." Cami suddenly becomes very interested in the tiles on the kitchen floor.

"That sounds like a lot of fun, but I, um, don't really have any money..." She trails off and I jump in.

"Girl, you have gained about 6 sisters and an Andrew in the past 24 hours who are all BEGGING to buy you clothes. Please don't worry about money. I've got you now. Part of the job, right?" She looks at me, puzzled. "Did other foster parents ever buy you clothes? Like, when you needed them?"

"The social worker would come by every now and then with hand-me-downs from other kids, or I'd get old clothes from foster siblings...not a lot of new stuff in the system."

"Well, I intend to change that. We're gonna spoil you, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Pippa, seriously. I'm fine, I have stuff. You've done enough for me already." I just laugh and shake my head. If she thinks I'm stubborn, she is in for a treat when she hangs out with Jas!