Somebody Else's Kids by Torey Hayden

Author:Torey Hayden [Hayden, Torey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780380599493
Amazon: 038059949X
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2002-07-29T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

What it was about Lori’s teddy bear that set Tomaso off that Friday afternoon of his birthday I never really knew. Maybe the gift evoked memories of a time when he had been hurt too badly for caring. Perhaps simply Lori’s kindness in selecting such a personal gift was too painful for this boy who had known so little kindness. Maybe it was something deeper, more complicated. I did not know. The bear went home with him that afternoon, blue stitches and all, never to be seen again.

The episode had an effect on Tomaso’s behavior from that day on. It was a subtle effect that was difficult for me to pinpoint, but he changed. Previously, there had never been an explosion that had involved violence toward any person. For all his hostility, I do not believe that Tomaso was basically the type of individual to hurt people. Afterward, he never again threatened me or any of the others. His anger persisted, but from that time on I felt safer with it, and I think he was more secure with me. We both knew now how bad things could get between us and not damage the relationship. The test by fire had come and we had survived it.

I wish, however, I could have known what had changed, how it changed, what it affected. I did not. But that turbulent afternoon was a milestone for Tomaso, and for me. And when I caught myself looking at him in quiet moments, I felt an understanding, a deeper understanding in that unconscious part of my mind which functions without words.

Claudia’s pregnancy continued to bother me. I knew that the chances of her giving birth to a high-risk infant were enormous because of her age and because of the lack of prenatal care in the first months. Worse for me I think, was that I knew the chances of her raising a high-risk child were even greater. I had little experience with birth and infants; I had far too much when it came to knowing about unwanted children raised by immature, troubled parents. What Claudia was providing was new fodder for my room. That hurt me.

All my attempts to talk to her about the future of her child had ended disastrously. She would not believe that her child could grow up anything but fairy-tale perfect. Everything was going to be wonderful after the baby arrived. It was going to be an ideal child: pink, pretty, sweet smelling. It was going to love her tremendously and make her feel like the most important person in the world. None of this in juxtaposition with girlish dreams of being a prom queen in high school, dancing in the ballet or winning a merit scholarship to Stanford seemed incongruous to Claudia. She knew that when the baby came, she would live happily ever after, just like in the story-books. Nothing I said could disabuse her.

That was one side. There was another side Claudia seldom gave words to, although I think it existed far more sharply for her than did her dreams.

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