Page 69 of Savagely Yours
“You think?” Her eyes grew even glossier. “You don’t know when your birthday is?”
I scratched my head. “I forget sometimes, but it’s on record someplace. My first foster dad told me where I could go to get my birth certificate if I ever need it. I want to join the Navy, so I might need it for that.”
“And where is your foster dad now?”
“He died a while back. I tried some different foster homes after that, but…” I reeled in what would have been too much truth for a stranger. “They didn’t work out.”
“And your parents?”
“I never knew them. Somebody found me as a baby at a Waffle House, and they took me to the hospital.”
She made a choked, gasping sound.“A Waffle House? Where do you live now?”
“Nowhere,” I said. Then, I waved my arms, eyes wide. “No, wait! I mean, I have a home. I live someplace. I’m not homeless.”
She beckoned me with a flour-covered hand. “Come here, baby.”
“Please, ma’am. I’ll leave if you don’t call the police. I’m not a troublemaker, but I can’t go back to foster care.”
If they sent me back, I would simply escape again.
“I’m not calling the police.” She motioned again. “Come here. Let me look at you.”
I limped closer.
“Skin and bones.” She tsked, studying me with soft brows and the kindest eyes I’d come across in a long time. “And look at your hair. I wonder if I can get Trey to cut it for you. I’ll have to call him. Oh, sweetheart. My heart breaks just looking at you. Are you in school?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I almost never miss a day. I’m not usually this hungry, honest. Summer’s just harder because I usually eat at school.”
“Come inside and let me feed you.”
“Ma’am?”
“Come inside. I’m going to feed you. And, if you promise to stay out of trouble, you can always come here for something to eat, okay? Even when it’s not summer. Plus, we have a full bathroom in the back with a shower, and I can probably clear out one of the storage rooms and put a bed in there. What’s your name, baby?”
My vision blurred. “Dez.”
“Dez what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Lord…”Her head momentarily fell, and she stroked my arm the way I’d always imagined a mother would. “I’ll help you find out, okay? And we’ll figure out how old you are. I might be able to give you something to do around here. For now, come on in and let me fix you something to eat. And what you have on? That’s not enough for how cold it’ll get tonight. Let me call my sister and see what we can find for you. I have a son who’s fourteen, and as much as he eats, he’s just as skinny as you are.”
A tear dripped onto my cheek. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Mae,” she said. “Call me Mae.”
Her name was actually sort of perfect. “Mae” had the same number of letters as “Mom.” To me, that made it close enough to “Mom.”
And I really, really wanted one.
I looked up into the server’s face. “Did you say something?”
“Just that dessert will be up shortly,” she said. “It’s apple pie.”
“Oh. Thanks. Actually, can you bring me two slices?”
“Of course.”
