The Truth According to Ginny Moon Benjamin Ludwig (books to read in your 30s .txt) 📖

because sometimes exactly means right. I pick up the milk and walk to the stairs.

“Ginny, what are you doing?”

“I’m bringing the milk upstairs.”

“No,” he says. “Don’t do that. Put it back on the counter. Baby Wendy drinks breast milk.”

I put the glass of milk down.

“Let’s try one more time,” he says. “The milk that you drink comes from cows, but babies can drink milk from their mothers, if their mothers decide to breast-feed. See?”

When people say See? they mean Do you understand? but my Forever Dad doesn’t understand at all. “I know where milk for humans comes from,” I say. I pick up the glass of milk and point to it. “This is human milk. You know, hu-man.”

“You can pronounce it however you want, but it still comes from a cow,” he says.

“So then why won’t my Forever Mom give it to the baby? Why won’t she give it milk that’s real?”

“She is giving it milk that’s real.”

I look at him over my glasses and shake my breasts at him again. “But there’s no milk in these,” I say. I have had breasts for approximately one year and I know that milk doesn’t come out of them. Nothing does.

“Ginny, put your—Watch—Just listen,” he says. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I’m sorry if this is all confusing, but you’re just going to have to trust me. Wendy is getting plenty of real milk. You can talk with Patrice about it when we go to see her after lunch. It’s really nice that she agreed to set up an appointment with you today—after all, it’s the weekend. But I bet she’ll want to talk some more about going back to school on Thursday, too. Do you still think you’re ready?”

He is changing the subject so I have to focus. I can’t get distracted. My new Forever Sister needs real human milk but it isn’t getting any and I know that Gloria will forget to feed my Baby Doll because Crystal with a C is in jail and no one will go to check on them. In my brain for a second I see my Baby Doll’s tiny eyes and face. Its eyes used to blink when I picked it up.

I come up out of my brain. The glass of milk is still in front of me on the counter. In my brain again I can see myself dipping a towel or my shirt in it and then putting the wet part in my Baby Doll’s mouth.

“Ginny?”

“What?” I say.

“Please, don’t worry about Wendy. She’s getting everything she needs. I’m really sorry about how intense things are around the baby right now. Your mom is being extra cautious, staying upstairs all the time. It would help a lot if you didn’t hover so much when she comes downstairs. Just...just give her some space, will you? You’ll see. We’ll all get back to normal soon. You’ll go back to school next Thursday, and then everything will slowly go back to the way it used to be. Everyone is safe. You’re home, the baby is healthy and your mom is doing well. Everything is going to be fine. Crystal is in jail now, and your baby sister has plenty to drink.”

“Crystal with a C,” I say. Then I go to my room.

EXACTLY 2:08 IN THE AFTERNOON,

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 23RD

“It’s been two days since you’ve been back at the Blue House, and now you have a baby sister,” says Patrice. “A lot has changed.”

That wasn’t a question so I don’t say anything. I just sit in the flower chair and look at Patrice.

“Your Forever Parents tell me you’ve been pretty quiet at home. What’s been going on in that brain of yours? Ginny, I want you to try to connect. I want to know how you feel. I want you to tell me how you feel about being back. Now, I know that Crystal didn’t hurt you, but—”

“Crystal with a C,” I say.

“All right, Crystal with a C didn’t hurt you. The doctors at the hospital said you were perfectly fine, but I wonder if Crystal with a C said some things when you were at her house that you’re still thinking about. Things that you remember. Could you tell me what those things are?”

“She said my Baby Doll is fine with Gloria for a few weeks but she likes to spend at least a few hours with them every day. But now Crystal with a C is in jail. So I need to go back to the apartment.”

She writes something down. “I wish she hadn’t humored you about your Baby Doll,” she says. “Remember, there was no baby in that apartment with you. The police would have found it. They even went back to look again when you told them it was in the suitcase. Now, how do you feel about what happened to Crystal with a C?”

“Angry,” I say.

“That’s good. It’s okay to feel angry when you miss someone. It’s okay to be mad and miss Gloria, too. Did you know that when you were gone, your Forever Parents missed you very much?”

“Yes,” I say. Because they told me.

“Everyone missed you, Ginny. The whole town. The whole state, even. Everyone was looking for you and saying prayers and worrying. They wanted to find you and keep you safe.”

That is the problem. Everyone wants to keep me safe but safe for me means not safe for my Baby Doll. Like this:

(Safe) for Ginny = (–Safe) for Baby Doll

But if I escape and go to Harrington Falls the police will find me. I need to come up with a new secret plan.

“We’ve seen each other every day since you’ve been back,” Patrice says, “and we’ll see each other all next week, as well. At home your parents say that you’ve been hovering too close to Baby Wendy, and of course that makes them worry. It freaks them out a little bit. They say it’s creepy. Your mom, especially. They say you keep trying