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

it as soon as your dad gets back. They’d like you to go have a look, too.”

Go have a look is mostly an expression. It means going there. “When are we going?”

“Probably a week after your dad comes home. It was only a mild heart attack, so the doctors are expecting an easy recovery. He’ll be home in about a week.”

“A week after he comes home,” I say. One week is plenty of time to find a cell phone and a quiet place to call Gloria.

“You know,” says Patrice, “your mom sent me the letter you wrote to Rick yesterday. It looks as though you’re still calling Krystal with a K your Baby Doll.”

I hear her but I’m not listening. “It’s my job to take excellent care of it,” I say.

“Yes, I know,” says Patrice. “Gosh, it’s been a long time since you were able to do that. How long has it been?”

“Five years,” I say.

“Right. I remember now. A lot has happened since then. You’ve gotten so much bigger! Do you know how many inches you’ve grown?”

I don’t so I shake my head no.

“Ten inches. That’s almost a whole foot! I wonder how much your Baby Doll has grown. After all, Baby Wendy is already a little bigger than she was when she came home from the hospital. She was twenty-two inches long when she came home. Your mom tells me she’s already twenty-four.”

“My Baby Doll is very small,” I say.

“Of course she is. But will she always be small?”

I start coming up out of my brain. Patrice is looking at me. My eyes look back but I don’t really see her. I see only my Baby Doll wrapped in my quilt. I see its tiny eyes and nose. It smiles when I lean close and waves its arms up and down. So excited! So excited!

“Yes,” I say. “Always.”

EXACTLY 6:32 IN THE MORNING,

TUESDAY, JANUARY 11TH

We are standing in the kitchen. Looking at each other. There is a white plastic bag behind her on the counter. I don’t know what’s in it.

“I need to spend a lot of time at the hospital,” my Forever Mom says, “but most of that time will be during the day while you’re at school. Grammy and Granddad will come over a lot to help out. I need you to—”

She stops talking and takes a breath. Her mouth makes a straight line. “I just need you to get through this. Without any incidents.”

“What’s an incident?”

“It’s something you do that’s unexpected,” she says. “Something that causes trouble. You know, like—”

She stops in the middle of her sentence. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I don’t want to give you any examples. I don’t want to put any bright ideas in your head.”

I don’t know what bright ideas means but I’m guessing it’s mostly an expression.

“I know you’ve been spending a lot of time with your dad lately. I know you’ve gotten used to him, and he’s gotten used to you. And that’s great. It really is. But you need to be patient with me, Ginny. I have to be the one taking care of you now. For a little while, anyway.”

“Until he comes back?”

She looks away and then looks back. “Right. Until he comes back. After that we’ll see. Patrice will help us work through it. Let’s just go over the rules for this week, okay?”

I nod my head yes.

“The most important rule is one you already know. Do you remember it?”

“There is no reason for me to touch Baby Wendy whatsoever,” I say.

“Right. Good. Now, the next rule is that you have to make a list each day and follow it. Because it’s important for us to keep busy, isn’t it?”

I nod my head yes.

“Good. And when you make your list, you should show it to me, and I’ll add some extra things to it for you. There’s a lot of work to do around the house, now that your dad isn’t home to help out anymore. The extra things I’ll add to it will be a few more chores, like emptying the garbage or clearing the table. Maybe helping me bring groceries in after I come home from shopping, or sweeping off the cars when it snows. Nothing too hard or complicated. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Great. And the next rule is when Baby Wendy’s crying gets to be too much for you, you’ll go out and take a walk. Just get your hat and boots and go outside.”

“And my coat.”

“And your coat. And your gloves, too, of course. The point is when Wendy cries, you should go outside and get some fresh air. I can’t have you freaking out and screaming in your room like you do, or climbing out the window. Things like that are just too much, okay? So if you hear Wendy cry, and it’s light enough out, you should just go outside until she stops. And if it’s in the middle of the night...”

She turns around and takes something out of the bag. It is white and has buttons on it and looks like a radio.

“And if it’s in the middle of the night,” she says again, “you’ll have this on, so just turn it up louder. It’s a noise maker. Patrice recommended it to me. It makes the sound of rain or the ocean so that you can’t hear what’s going on outside your room. I bet you can figure out how to work it.”

She puts it on the counter next to me. I pick it up.

“The noise maker will help you sleep at night, too,” she says. “It’s very soothing. And another rule is no hiding food. You have plenty to eat here at the Blue House, so there’s no need to store up food and squirrel it away in drawers or in your closet. Right?”

“Right.”

“And the last rule is if you know I’m upstairs, you need to stay downstairs. Wendy needs to eat every three hours or so, so I have to go up