10-22-2013, 03:19 PM
"We can hope," she says, and the way she says it, the way she looks when she says it, she means it. Sam is smart and practical and pragmatic. She knows as well as anyone that Cindy will never be better than she is now. But she can hope. Sometimes, that's all any of them can do.
"I don't expect her to be able to come to Sunday dinners or anything, and honestly, it'll be more for him than it would be for her. So that can definitely wait. It's just..." she trails, looking at those kids playing their game, so close to Change it hangs in the air like a charge. Looking up at Hosea, she continues, "there's so much to figure out. Most adopted kids find out their birth parents were in prison or something. How'm I supposed to tell him his were Spirals?" She shakes her head, not really looking for the answer to that question now.
"Is she still here?" she asks.
"I don't expect her to be able to come to Sunday dinners or anything, and honestly, it'll be more for him than it would be for her. So that can definitely wait. It's just..." she trails, looking at those kids playing their game, so close to Change it hangs in the air like a charge. Looking up at Hosea, she continues, "there's so much to figure out. Most adopted kids find out their birth parents were in prison or something. How'm I supposed to tell him his were Spirals?" She shakes her head, not really looking for the answer to that question now.
"Is she still here?" she asks.