Elliott
Age 10
“You are so cute when you are in awe,” Samuel says with a small laugh as he watches me looking out the window before he stares at his phone.
How could I not be in awe as we drive closer to their home?Mynew home. The drive is long, and it makes my butt hurt. We drove so far away from the city that, for the last hour, I don’t see anything but trees. They didn’t live in the city like my foster parents. They are far off in the woods.
I am shocked when the trees finally open, and I discover a small town. There isn’t a lot, but it look like everything you would need is here. I spot a grocery store, a gas station, anda whole row of stores I couldn’t read the names of. People are watching on the sidewalks with smiles on their faces.
They are all wearing the same colors as the Donovans, the light-brown fabrics. They wave to the car as we pass by, but none of the Donovans wave back. They keep looking forward. Samuel is still busy on his cellphone.
This whole place reminds me of the town fromGilmore Girls. My foster mom watched that show every day and night. I would hear the conversation of the mother and daughter as I laid on the thin mattress of the closet most nights. Wondering if I would ever have that kind of relationship with my new mommy.
I hoped, but Mrs. Donovan hasn’t said a word to me since they got in the car with Samuel and I outside of the foster home. Mr. Donovan introduced himself to me and talked about how he hoped I liked Everton. He seems nice so far.
We took a long ride for a bit before the sound of the gravel under the tires filled the car. We stop at the end of a rocky road. I look out the car window and see the front of the house. A house I would now call home. Imagining Mrs. Donovan brushing my hair and playing tea party with me. The door swings open. Mr. Donovan puts out his hand, helping me get out of the car. I pull the bottom of my big shirt down, making sure it is covering all of me. I wish I had other clothes to bring here.
“Welcome home,” he says with a smile.
He is looking at me weirdly like he wants to know if I like the house or not. How could I not? It is like a mansion.
But before I could tell him anything, Samuel hops out of the car beside me, grabs me around the waist, and picks me back up. My hand drops away from his father’s.
“Eden. Her name is Eden.”
“Is it?” I whisper to Samuel, then look back up at Mr. Donovan, who is looking between Samuel and me.
“Yes. New home. New life. New name,” he tells me, pinching my cheek softly before grabbing one of my hands. Bringing it to his face, he kisses the top of it and puts it on his chest. “My little Eden.”
I don’t know how this adoption stuff works, but that makes sense. If I am going to be a part of their family, they got to name me, right? My old name doesn’t matter, since it is from another mommy, one I don’t even remember that well. But this new name isn’t from my new mommy. It is from my new big brother. He looks down at me like I am his new reason to smile. That makes me happy. That my new brother already loves me. I have never known what that feels like, to have a family. To be loved by someone.
I don’t really remember myrealparents much. I have small memories of them. Memories I don’t like to think about. I was put in the foster system when I was just a toddler. Bouncing from foster home to foster home. I was always a “problem,” they would say. I don’t know why. I kept my head low, try to never talk or bug anyone.
It never worked, though. The other kids in the homes would use that against me. Putting the blame on me when they do something wrong. In the beginning, I tried to tell whoever my foster parents were at the time that it wasn’t me, but I soon realized that it is far worse to be a rat than the problem child. Kids could be just as cruel as the adults. All but a few kids I encountered once before. It was like that until I got to the last house. That house is... different. The minute I got there, my foster dad called me his “new favorite,” and I was stuck in that room.
“Eden...” Mr. Donovan’s eyes are on me now. “I like that. Eden, it is.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just give them a smile. It isn’t a bad name. It started with an “E,” like Elliott. I could get used to it, I guess. If Samuel liked it and my new daddy liked it... I could learn to like it.
Samuel pulls me closer to him, walking with me in his arms to the large double front doors of the gigantic house. It feels like it is going to eat me alive. My jaw almost hits the floor when a man in a suit opens one of them for us. I don’t know who he is, and he doesn’t even look at us when we pass him. He keeps his eyes staring straight ahead.
What family did I just join that has a man opening doors for them?
“Samuel will show you to your room, El—”
Samuel gives his father a dirty look, and his dad looksat him the same way.
They stare at each other like cowboys look at each other in those old western movies on AMC. A lot of my life experiences are through movies and shows.
Mr. Donovan keeps his eyes on Samuel. “Eden.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say in a hushed tone.
With a nod, he is off, and Samuel is walking on the marbled tile floors, straight for the staircase that is to the left of the entry.
“Come on. You’ll love your room,” Samuel says as he makes his way down the bright, wide hallway.
His hold on my waist is strong, not painful, but he holds me like he is scared to let it go. It makes me confused. I just met him, but I would never run away from him, not when he makes me feel so loved already. How does he do that? How does he make me feel so comfortable? Maybe it is how he is treating me like I am already so special to him or the fact that he looks at me like I was everything that is missing in this family. I don’t know why or how to explain it, but... I just know in my gut he is going to be the best big brother I could ever ask for.
