Ollie knew something must be wrong, when his foster mom met him at school before the last bell. He'd been called to the dean's office, once again.
"What did I do this time?" Ollie had been keeping to himself, mostly. Occasionally, he hung out with Kramer, but they hadn't gotten into any trouble.
"Oh, its not that." Valentina's mom told him. "Someone wants to meet you."
Ollie didn't know what that could mean? Was his dad now showing up?
She got him out of school and they took a drive.
"I've talked to your case worker and she'll meet us." She told him they'd been in talks for the last week or so.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?" He winced as if he was the last to know anything.
"She says she knows your father."
Those words made his eyes light. Who was she? Someone from his father's past. Maybe..maybe it was his mother.
He knew he was too old to get his hopes up. Of course, his father never said a word about her. Suddenly, Ollie felt so numb. It was impossible to do anything for himself. What would he have to do? To be on his own?
He didn't want to get emotional about it. Even the ride was short. Only a few blocks from where he lived.
Naturally, they said their hellos soon enough.
The woman's name was Betty, and she looked too old to even have a kid still in high school. But she did.
Her son was there, too. Ollie knew of him, but didn't know Dewey. After all, Dewey was on the football team.
It was all settled and of course, just temporary. It wasn't a done deal. But he could stay. There was a room for him. But there was another woman, too.
"Are you two gay?" He scowled at the thought of having to live with lesbians.
The other woman smiled as if it might be a compliment.
"We're just good friends," Betty told him. "If we were, I can't think of anyone else I would want to be with, but Doris."
Ollie choked on a cough. It was then he noticed the LGBT pen on his caseworker's jacket. Ollie cleared his throat.
His case-worker brought up the fact that he wasn't turning in all his homework at school. What was that about?
Ollie only pouted more. Maybe he should just give them all the silent treatment from now on. He knew he hadn't been in any real trouble for a long time now. But his room would be upstairs. It would be harder to slip out the window.
His caseworker once again told him it was just a trial. Nothing was set in stone. He looked over at his foster mother and could see she was ready for him to stay here. She already had his clothes packed.
He wanted to hate her. He wanted to hate this place, too. But this woman Betty already had lasagna, she was cutting into. And she served him first.