The Truth According to Ginny Moon by Benjamin Ludwig (ebook reader with highlighter txt) 📗

And he says, “Check on your Baby Doll? No, I don’t know anything about that.”

And I say, “I need to find it because it might be hungry. Do you think Gloria is acting pretty reasonably?”

Rick looks at my Forever Parents. They move their shoulders up and look back at him. Rick pushes back and starts to swing. “So, what should we talk about?” he says.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Heck, I don’t know,” he says. “It’s just a doll, right? Isn’t there anything else you want to talk about?”

“Yes,” I say.

“What?” he says.

I look at my Forever Parents and put my head down. I know they can hear me so I can’t ask what I really want to ask. Instead I ask the next best thing. “I want to know if you’ll go to Gloria’s apartment to make sure she’s taking care of it.”

Rick drags his work boots on the sand. He looks at my Forever Parents. They look back at him. “That’s really the same topic, isn’t it? Your folks told me you think about your old Baby Doll all the time,” he says. “You must really miss it.”

I nod my head. “Yes, I do,” I say.

“Maybe we can go to get you a new one, then,” he says. “I’ve never been able to get you a present, so maybe—”

“No,” I say. “I do not want a new one. I want you to go make sure the old one is safe. Gloria can’t take care of it.”

“Okay, okay,” says Rick.

Then my Forever Mom says, “No, Rick, don’t say okay. She’ll take you literally.”

“What? Oh, got it,” says Rick.

“Ginny, he means okay, he won’t go get you a new Baby Doll. So don’t worry. We wouldn’t let anyone do that to you.” Then to Rick she says, “This is what we were talking about. She won’t let go of the idea. There’s no use trying.”

“I always thought it never hurts to try,” says Rick in a quiet voice. He looks at me. “Do you have a favorite color?”

I try not to get distracted but I have to answer. “I like red,” I say.

“I like red, too. Red and blue.”

“Those are the Patriots’ colors,” I say.

He laughs. “I do love the Pats,” he says.

“When can we have a respite?” I say. “When can we give everyone a little break?”

“It’s too soon for that,” my Forever Dad says right away. “Isn’t that right, Rick?”

Rick is quiet for exactly three seconds. “Right,” he says. “It’s too soon. But maybe we could set up another time to visit.” He turns his head and looks right at my Forever Dad. “Would that be all right?”

My Forever Dad’s eyebrows get pointy like a V.

“Of course it would,” my Forever Mom says. “After all, we want the two of you to spend a lot of time together. As much as possible.”

“But no respite yet,” says Rick.

“Right. No respite yet,” my Forever Dad says.

EXACTLY 12:41 IN THE AFTERNOON,

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 22ND

At the table it is only me and Larry. Alison Hill and Brenda Richardson and Kayla Zadambidge are in line getting their lunches. Ms. Carol is standing next to the water fountain talking with another teacher. She is watching me but she isn’t close enough to listen.

“How did things go with that Rick dude this weekend? Was he nice?” says Larry.

That was two questions but I know he means the same thing by both so I say, “He was the man from Special Olympics.”

“You mean the one your other dad always talks to?”

I nod my head yes. Larry nods too.

“Whoa,” he says. “Who knew?”

“No one knew,” I say. “Only my Forever Dad.”

Larry makes a funny face. “How come you call him your Forever Dad all the time? I mean, I know you were adopted, but couldn’t you just call him your dad? I mean, it’s not like you’re going to go live with someone else.”

I think. “I’m going to go have a respite with Rick,” I say. “My Forever Parents need a little break.”

“A break from their own kid? That’s weird,” says Larry. “Say, you’re not thinking of going to go live with that Rick dude, are you? Because, babe, if you went away...”

He stops talking. Then in a shaky voice he starts singing a song about how God only knows what he’d be without me. Sometimes he stops singing and says Dum-dum, Dum, Dum starting low and marching up.

“You dig?” he says when he finishes the song.

He means Do you understand? So I say, “No, Larry, I do not dig.”

“Don’t you want to be my—Don’t you want us to be boyfriend and girlfriend? Someday, I mean.”

“No, Larry,” I say again.

“Man, that stinks,” he says. And throws one of his arm braces down. It clatters and bounces. His face is tight and there are tears coming out the corners of his eyes. Then he says, “I mean, us special kids—we need to stick together, you know? It’s not like either one of us has a shot at getting with a regular girl. I mean, a regular person. So fine, I get it. You’re not interested. We can just be friends. But I still don’t want you to go anywhere. You’ll always stay right here in Greensborough, right?”

I don’t say anything. In my tray I use my fork to turn some spaghetti over. I have to answer the question unless I take too much time thinking of an answer and Larry says something else.

Which is exactly what happens.

“Anyway, I hope you’ll stay. We’ll be in high school next year. High school lasts four whole years. It’s going to be a blast. You don’t want to go to high school somewhere else, do you?”

“No,” I say. Because I don’t want to go to any high school at all. I want to go to Canada to take care of my Baby Doll. Or stay somewhere else with it. Anywhere. Five years is a long time and now that Crystal with a C is in jail I have to keep