"Why won't she speak,Marc? She just sits there staring and mumbling to herself."
"Give her time Luara. She been through alot." In a lower tone, but loud enough for Rielle to hear , he says "You read her files. They did unspeakable things. She's lucky to even be sane."
The woman's lips press into a thin line as she watches Rielle.
"Prehaps they should reevaluate her again."
"Laura.." warned Marc
"For Christ's sake Marc, she's not even blinking. It's.." She casts another weary look the girls way. "It's unnerving."
"SHE can hear you Lauranne."
This time they both look to Rielle for a reaction, but the girl just sits there unblinking and mumbling. Laura is the first to look away, rolling her eyes.
"Well, she certainly doesn't act like she hears us, does she?"
"Listen, Laura."
"No. You listen, Marc. I wanted a child to love, and this child is unlovable! You promised."
"I.." Marc looks from Laura to Rielle panicked.
" You promised, Marc. Do you remember what you said?"
Marc's fingers cleanched at his sides. He nodded his head.
"Say it!"
"I promised a child would fix our marriage."
"And what else?"
"That if it didn't work out, we'd find another one, but Lauranne, please. We can't just send her back to that hellhole of an orphanage..."
Laura raises a hand to cut him off
"Enough, Marcus. Either she goes or I go."
With that, the woman spun on her heel, leaving a devastated Marc alone with Rielle.
Rielle began to tap her fingers on her knee as she awaited his presence.
2 months
Rielle had been in Mr and Mrs. Clave's care for 2 months. In that time, she hadn't spoken once. She did blink. Just not often. Didn't need to. In the Orphanage Rielle was the Champion of the staring contest. Her longest record being 5 minutes. She often had to remind herself to blink, to look normal. She was broken. Unlovable, as Mrs. Clave said.
"Rielle, sweetheart, can you look at me."
Rielle's eyes snapped to his. He was crouched down beside her seated form. His eyes searched hers for signs of emotion and...understanding. She let her self audibly sigh. He made his choice, and it wasn't her. Not that she thought he would choose her. Still hated the orphanage. Out of all the foster homes she's been in the Claves, she decided, was one of the worst. They didn't beat her like the Jones. They didn't lock her in a closet like the Marshall's. They didn't force her to eat dog food like the Wendal's. No. They showered her with care. At least Mr.Clave did. She liked Mr.Clave. He promised we would be family. That I wouldn't have to go back to the awful orphanage. Now, she had to leave.
2months ago
When I first met the Claves, they picked me out of a lineup. Mr. Clave took one look at the bruises on my cheek and knees, and his eyes blazed with fury. Mrs. Clave could barely calm him down.
"We'll take her." He had told Ms. Withers
Ms. Withers frowned.
"Surely you would like one of our younger children. This one is already 17. In a couple of months, she'll be an adult and will no longer need..."
"A child is a child. The law doesn't consider her a real adult until she's 21. She's a child. We are looking for a child to love."
"Yes, but...she is still healing from loss."
That gives the Claves pause. Panic seized my chest. This was it. Ms. Withers would pull my file like she always did when a pair of decent parents took interest in me. They would read my file and shake their heads like they always did. Then they would pick one of the younger children.
She never pulled her file when the vile ones looked her way. Oh no, when the most sinister looking people turned up, that file stayed tucked away. She even charged those parents an extra fee for me. For her to look the other way, during her house visits, meant to make sure I was accustomed. Ms. Withers was my social worker. The very person appointed to make sure I found a loving home, insured the opposite.
Rielle watched as Mr.Clave looked at her file with sad eyes. They caught hers, and he smiled at her.
"We'll take her." He said.
"What?!" Withers and Mrs.Clave said in Unison.
Mrs.Clave grabbed his hand.
"Are you sure she's right for us?"
"Darling, you just remember my promise and trust me."
Ms.Clave looked at Rielle with unsurety but nodded once,"Draw up the papers, fast. This place gives me the creeps."
Rielle was so shocked with glee that she gave little notice to the fearful look Mrs.Clave cast upon her. That was the first sign that the woman would never welcome her the way her husband did. Mrs.Clave wanted a bubbly child she could take shopping and get their hair and nails done together. Rielle was timid and rather gloomy. Soon, Mrs.Clave began to resent Rielle for not being like her. The Claves had a daughter who died at age 15 in a car accident.
It didn't take long for Rielle to realize she was meant to be her replacement. The moment she saw a picture of their daughter in her cheer uniform, smiling brightly, she knew it would never work out. She could never replace someone so ...normal. Rielle couldn't just pretend like the past 10 years of her life weren't hell. She needed time to heal. Time to learn what it means to be happy again. Time Mrs. Clave wasn't willing to give her. Not when she was still grieving the loss of her daughter.
"I want you to know this isn't your fault." The pain in Marc's voice brought Rielle back to the present.
She offered him a sad smile.
"I really thought this could work. But Luara... she's grieving in her own way. It's not fair, but I love her. If anyone is at fault, it's me. I...I.."
At this point, Marc burst into tears. The sight alone made a tear cascade down her round cheek. It was the first sign of emotion she'd shown since 7 years old, when the police found her in the closet mute, clutching her mother's necklace.
People always assumed she'd lost her ability to speak. That she was completely mute. That was far from the truth. Rielle was selectively mute. Only people she trusted or deemed worthy heard her speak.
When Marcus Clave heard Rielle speak for the first time, he couldn't believe his ears.
"I-It was never going to work. The three of us are grieving in our own ways. Unable to heal one another."
Marc stared at her with fresh tears in his eyes. Her words had more than one meaning. His marriage wasn't savable either.
"I'm getting life advice from a mute." Marc laughed bitterly.
His face settled into a sad smile that mirrored her own.
"Okay, kiddo. I'll bite. What do I do now?"
Rielle pondered for a bit before standing to her feet.
She remembered something her late father used to say whenever she dwelled on the unattainable.
"My Pa would say: Let go and let grow."
"Let go and let grow." Marc repeated, "Your Pa sounds like a very wise man."
Another tear slid down her cheek.
"He was."
She left him crouched there then. Climbing the stairs and wandering the halls until she reached her bedroom. Then, she began to pack her things. This would not be her home. Tomorrow, she'd go back to the orphanage.
The next morning, Marc knocked on her door. She can sense him hopefully awaiting her permission to enter. It doesn't come. Her speaking to him was a one-time thing. After today, they would be strangers again.
He opens the door, peeking inside.
"You're already packed, I see."
She nods, her eyes downcast.
"You're not going back the orphanage."
Rielle looks up then. Eyes wide with disbelief. Then where was she going? Did she overstep last night? Was he now going to sell her to traffickers? She had a fosterdad threaten to do that once.
She threw herself off the bed frantically, shaking her head, pleading with her eyes. Marc gripped her shoulders and pulled her into a comforting hug.
"Shhh, child. There's nothing to fear. You aren't going to the orphanage because you'll be going with family."
Rielle pulled back with squinted eyes. Family? As far as she knew, she didn't have family. She'd been in the system for 10 years because she didn't have family. What was he talking about? Surely, he was mistaken. Or worse, someone was trying to scam him.
Yes. That made sense. The Claves had money. This so-called family of hers could be offering to take her in...for a price.
She tried to communicate her skeptism with her eyes, but Marc only smiled warmly.
"Last night, I looked at your files again. There had to be someone that could take you in. That you'd possibly be safe with. His name is John. He's your Uncle. His contact info was all the way in the back."
Rielle listened in disbelief and anger in her heart.
"I know I'm angry too. All this time, you could have been with family that cared for you. I called him up. Spoke to him. In the very least you'll be safe with him."
"Why?" She mumbled.
"Because he's your family. And family are there for eachother."
She wanted to scream at him. He hadn't been there for her for 10 years. He was no family of hers.
"I know what you want to say, Rielle. Only he can answer those questions. Just...promise me you'll give him a chance. Okay?"
She nodded her head reluctantly.
The next couple of hours were hectic. If she wanted to get to her Uncles house, she'd have to fly there. Because he lived in freaking Tennessee! She had a 2hr flight ahead of her. She said her goodbyes to the Claves. Giving each of them a hug. The hug she gave Luara was brief, and she tried to pull away quickly. Before she could, the women tightened her grip on her. She whispered low only for her ears.
"Don't come back unless they beating you over there. Anything else, tough it out."
Rielle blinked at the grieving women that had insisted her husband choose between the two of them.
"Go on then, and be safe."
She watched the women turn on her heel, leaving her with Marc.
"I told her what you told me last night. She cried something fierce. I know she regrets what she said, but what you said was true after all. We need time to heal our own way. We aren't what you need right now. Right now, you need family."
Rielle nodded, giving him one last hug before running off to board the plane.
After a long flight, Rielle landed at the airport in Tennessee. Marc said to look for a sign with her name on it. She grabbed her luggage from the converbelt and scanned the line of people, looking for her name in bold letters. 10 minutes of searching and nothing. She pulled out her phone and texted John, asking where he was.
She was busy staring at the screen when two brown Tim's stepped into view.
"Well, I'll be... You look just like Jenny." Said a rich deep baritone.
Jenny? Her mother's name was Jennifer. This must be Uncle John. Rielle let out a relieved sigh, only to suck it back in when she looked up. Uncle John was white?? This can't be right. Could it? Rielle knew how genetics worked. It was just... shocking. She'd never met any of her family members. No one came to claim her when her parents died. For the first family member she meets to look nothing, and I mean NOTHING like her...
She quickly cast her eyes down so he wouldn't see her disappointment.
"I'm sorry that was rude of me, Rielle. "
He scratched the back of his head. Making his curly brown locks shake like a palm tree. A huge contrast to Rielle's 4A curls constrained in a bun that hurt her tender scalp. It wasn't until his pale cheeks blushed under her scrutiny that she realized she had been glaring at him. Great. Now he'd think she was angry at him.
She shook her head and waved it off, to let him know it was no biggie. His shoulders relaxed a bit.
"Here, give me your bag. Follow me."
He took her bag and led the way to his car. She half expected some beat-up pickup truck , but the car looked fairly new. New and expensive. Just what did this Uncle John do for a living?
She tried her best not to stare at him as he drove, but she couldn't help it. He couldn't be more than 26. Maybe 30, but even that seemed like a stretch. Being that young would explain why he didn't come to get me 10 yrs ago. What 16 or 20-year-olds want to raise a 7-year-old orphan.
John cleared his throat.
"Do me a favor, Rielle, and grab the notebook and pen under the dashboard."
Rielle obeyed, reaching into the glove department and grabbing the book and pen. Her fingers traced the starry night design on the notebook's cover.
"You like it?"
She nodded.
"I got it for you. Marcus told me you don't like to talk much. Whatever you want to say, just write it there."
Rielle wasted no time. She immediately started scribbling her first question. When she was done, she held up the book to him. Tapping the page with the pen to get his attention.
Uncle John,
Why are you white?
John laughed a real long belly laugh. He saw the frown on her face and laughed harder.
"Well, Rielle, technically, we're not related. I'm your God Uncle. I grew up with your Dad. We were like brothers."
My Dad would've been 40.
And you look young.
"I'll take that as a compliment. I'm 34. Our Mom's were best friends. Your dad was the big brother I never had. We..were close."
I don't remember you. No pictures of you. Nothing.
John began to squirm in his seat.
"Last time I saw you was your 3rd birthday.Me and your Dad got in a fight about um...stuff. I stopped coming to visit, and so did he."
Rielle could tell there was something he didn't want to talk about, but decided now wasn't the time to ask.
But you're still my God Uncle??
"Family is Family. Even when we fight."
Rielle stared at him.
"What?"
Then why weren't you at the funeral? Why didn't you come get me?
"Rielle..."
Family has your back. 10 years I suffered alone! 10 years! Where were you?!
Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back. John looked pained by the question. When he didn't answer right away, she tapped the paper again. She needed to know why he left her alone. Why he let her think she had no one.
"Somedays I was high. Others I was drunk. I was a mess, Elly. That fight me and your Dad had? I showed up to your 3rd birthday high as a kite. Your Dad kicked my ass. He threw me out on the lawn. Told me he was done with me. Said not to show my face around you and your Mom again until I got my shit together." They pulled into a large driveway, in front a large house.
John was wealthy. Rielle couldn't help think of the times she was sent to bed without dinner, because she needed to lose weight.
When did you get sober?
" The drugs stopped 8 years ago. The drinking stopped 6 years ago."
So why didn't you come for me 6 years ago?
"I was ashamed. I didn't think I deserved to be in your life. Ms. Wither said you had a new family already. That you were happy. I swear to God Elly if I knew the truth, I would have got you sooner."
He pleaded for her forgiveness with his eyes.
Elly?
He grinned ear to ear. Taking the topic change as a sign of forgiveness.
"It's what I used to call you when you were little. Your dad probably burned all the pictures of us in a petty rage, but I still have mine. Come on, I'll show you."
Before they went inside, she had one more question.
How come it took you so long to get sober? Looks like you could afford a good rehab.
"I didn't think I had a problem. And for a long time, no one else noticed I did. But your Dad could always tell when I was high. Whenever I was high I did stupid and reckless shit. Said things I didn't mean."
Like what?
John rubbed the back of his neck.
"Can we talk about this later? Right now your bedroom is waiting to be unpacked."
Rielle nodded and got out the car. The huge house bordered on mansion.
What do you do??
John chuckled.
"I work for my family's company. It's stressful, but it pays well."
He gave her a tour of the house and then showed Rielle to her room. The entire house, except for her room, screamed bachelor pad. Her room, however, was girly and a bit too frilly. She frowned at splashes of pink on the walls. The frown deepened at the sight of the stuff animals on the bed and bookshelves.
"I um originally had this room setup for you 6 years ago. I looked up what a 11 yr old girl's room looked like and just went from there...um..anyway, decorate however you want. Just text me what you need, preferably with pic..oof"
John was cut off by her throwing her arms around his waist in a tight hug. She buried her face in his jacket, like a little kid, and he smiled. His mind flashed back to the little hugs she'd give him when she was 3, and he returned her embrace.
"You're safe now, Elly. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, but I'm here now."
Rielle looked up at him with fresh tears in her eyes.
"Uncle John."
Her voice was small and raspy, like she'd just woke up from a nap.
"Yeah, Elly?"
"Is this really happening. Are we really family?"
John's heart ached
"Yeah kid. We're family."