She reluctantly put it on. She knew it wasn’t hers and she didn’t want to
ruin it. What if one of her cuts started to bleed again? What if she spilled
something on it? Maybe she should ask for something else to wear so she
didn’t ruin this.
Monroe left her clothes on the floor like he’d said, even as it went
against everything in her body. She was the one who cleaned up and made
sure everything was spotless. Dirty clothes on the floor were unacceptable
and she normally got beatings for it.
She quickly went back to the bathroom, grabbing the clothes before
making her way toward the kitchen. She knew he said to leave them behind,
but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. What if it was a test and she was
really supposed to bring them with her?
Walking into the kitchen, Michael turned around right as she entered
and she watched as his jaw dropped. Little soft giggles escaped past her
mouth as she looked at him. Why was he making such a silly face?
Michael smiled at her and she quickly remembered she needed to know
where the washer and dryer were so she could put her stuff in.
She held up her clothes and the towel toward him. “Where is the
washer?” she whispered.
“You can leave them right here and I’ll put them away while you eat,”
he said.
She stared at him, trying to see if he was telling the truth or if this was
another test. It was so hard to read him and what he wanted, and it was
making her start to panic. What if she chose the wrong thing?
“It’s okay. Nothing’s going to happen. You can place them right here on
the floor and I’ll put them in the wash while you eat,” he said after she
continued to hold her clothes and towel. “You can sit on this stool and I’ll
get your food for you. I hope you like chicken nuggets and carrots.”
Monroe held her facial expressions back. She loved chicken nuggets but
didn’t want the carrots. If she had her way, she wouldn’t eat any veggies ever.
“Do you want ketchup?” he asked, and she nodded her head.
Chicken nuggets and ketchup was the best combo ever! Putting her
clothes and the towel down on the floor, she sat down on the stool and
waited for the food.
“While you eat, I’m going to quickly put these in the wash and then I'll
brush your hair,” he said as he placed the plate down in front of her with her
Canada Dry from earlier. After placing the food in front of her, he grabbed
her dirty clothes and towel.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked down at the plate. Everything
was cut up for her in little bite sizes. No one had ever cut up her food for
her, not even when she was little.
Growing up in the foster care system, she moved from house to house,
and a lot of the families already had kids. Some were better than others, but
she learned pretty quick to become independent and not rely on the families
for much of anything.
“Eat as much as you can and if you want a snack later, I have several
things,” he said as he walked back into the kitchen, hairbrush in hand. “Can
I brush your hair?”
She wanted to shake her head no, but found herself nodding instead.
She couldn’t remember the last time someone brushed her hair.
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