you mean?”
“Well… take Tonya, for instance.” She nodded toward a beautiful woman who appeared to be an exotic mix of African, Native American and Caucasian, with cheekbones so perfect he knew instinctively that the camera would worship her. “It took her husband Adam freaking years to convince her that the world they’d built together wasn’t going to disappear out from under her. Instinctively that’s what she kept thinking would happen, because that’s the only life strays like us have ever known. Stability, home, belonging… that’s not for us. That’s for other people with real families and real blood ties.”
His mouth flattened. “Blood ties are not all that they appear to be.”
She glanced at him curiously before lifting a shoulder. “I wouldn’t know. What I do know is that many of us strays haven’t settled down yet. Maybe we’re just too scared to let anyone close because we’re afraid that the bottom will fall out—because trust me, the bottom always falls out. Or maybe that’s just the luck of the draw and things simply shook out that way. But there’s no denying that while all but one of the Panuzzi kids are happily married with a minimum of three kids apiece, there are only two Panuzzi foster children out of a dozen who are currently married, and those two couples have each produced only one child.”
That didn’t sound like the luck of the draw to him. “So… you needed a date tonight to prove that you are well-adjusted, and not an emotionally stunted commitment-phobe?”
“Geez, the way you say it.” She wrinkled her cute little nose, and all at once his hands itched for his camera in a way that almost never happened. “I’m not emotionally stunted, or a commitment-phobe. I just don’t have anyone in my life at the moment. Big difference.”
“Ah.” Personally he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t exhausted from beating lust-maddened suitors off with a golf club. A woman with such lush curves and the sexiest self-confidence he’d ever seen was a treasure any man would want for himself. “So why did you need me to come along with you tonight?”
She grimaced. “Papa Bolo and Mama Coco seem to think that being paired up somehow equals happiness, especially when it comes to us strays.”
That one word was starting to grate on his nerves. “What does it matter, whether you are alone or not?”
“Whenever one of us shows up without someone in tow, drama immediately ensues. They jump to the totally wrong conclusion that they didn’t give us enough stability or love or whatever. Then it’s all about taking the blame for not raising us foster kids to be happy and whole.”
“Are you? Happy and whole, I mean?”
She lifted a shoulder as they moved up the line, and she held her plate out for a slice of pink meat done to perfection. “I’ve got a great life. What’s not to be happy about?”
“I do not know if I would be happy about being called a stray.” But maybe that was because he’d been called so much worse. That didn’t stop him from getting pissed off at the label that had been slapped so carelessly on her. It made her sound like she was an unwanted and unloved thing. He knew what that was like all too well, and it was a feeling he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.
Though, of course, his worst enemy was the very person who made him feel that way in the first place.
The corners of her mouth curled. “The Panuzzis didn’t come up with that, actually. A social worker called me a stray when she thought I was out of earshot—dehumanizing me to the point where I was nothing more than an animal. I called her on it straight away by telling her that I was proud to be a stray, because strays are survivors. With no home, no one to love them or take care of them, a stray has to be smart enough and strong enough to take care of themselves. I was yelling all this when the Panuzzis walked through the door to drop off some paperwork to take in
“Well… take Tonya, for instance.” She nodded toward a beautiful woman who appeared to be an exotic mix of African, Native American and Caucasian, with cheekbones so perfect he knew instinctively that the camera would worship her. “It took her husband Adam freaking years to convince her that the world they’d built together wasn’t going to disappear out from under her. Instinctively that’s what she kept thinking would happen, because that’s the only life strays like us have ever known. Stability, home, belonging… that’s not for us. That’s for other people with real families and real blood ties.”
His mouth flattened. “Blood ties are not all that they appear to be.”
She glanced at him curiously before lifting a shoulder. “I wouldn’t know. What I do know is that many of us strays haven’t settled down yet. Maybe we’re just too scared to let anyone close because we’re afraid that the bottom will fall out—because trust me, the bottom always falls out. Or maybe that’s just the luck of the draw and things simply shook out that way. But there’s no denying that while all but one of the Panuzzi kids are happily married with a minimum of three kids apiece, there are only two Panuzzi foster children out of a dozen who are currently married, and those two couples have each produced only one child.”
That didn’t sound like the luck of the draw to him. “So… you needed a date tonight to prove that you are well-adjusted, and not an emotionally stunted commitment-phobe?”
“Geez, the way you say it.” She wrinkled her cute little nose, and all at once his hands itched for his camera in a way that almost never happened. “I’m not emotionally stunted, or a commitment-phobe. I just don’t have anyone in my life at the moment. Big difference.”
“Ah.” Personally he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t exhausted from beating lust-maddened suitors off with a golf club. A woman with such lush curves and the sexiest self-confidence he’d ever seen was a treasure any man would want for himself. “So why did you need me to come along with you tonight?”
She grimaced. “Papa Bolo and Mama Coco seem to think that being paired up somehow equals happiness, especially when it comes to us strays.”
That one word was starting to grate on his nerves. “What does it matter, whether you are alone or not?”
“Whenever one of us shows up without someone in tow, drama immediately ensues. They jump to the totally wrong conclusion that they didn’t give us enough stability or love or whatever. Then it’s all about taking the blame for not raising us foster kids to be happy and whole.”
“Are you? Happy and whole, I mean?”
She lifted a shoulder as they moved up the line, and she held her plate out for a slice of pink meat done to perfection. “I’ve got a great life. What’s not to be happy about?”
“I do not know if I would be happy about being called a stray.” But maybe that was because he’d been called so much worse. That didn’t stop him from getting pissed off at the label that had been slapped so carelessly on her. It made her sound like she was an unwanted and unloved thing. He knew what that was like all too well, and it was a feeling he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.
Though, of course, his worst enemy was the very person who made him feel that way in the first place.
The corners of her mouth curled. “The Panuzzis didn’t come up with that, actually. A social worker called me a stray when she thought I was out of earshot—dehumanizing me to the point where I was nothing more than an animal. I called her on it straight away by telling her that I was proud to be a stray, because strays are survivors. With no home, no one to love them or take care of them, a stray has to be smart enough and strong enough to take care of themselves. I was yelling all this when the Panuzzis walked through the door to drop off some paperwork to take in
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