Page 99 of A Pretty Fixation

“Closure.”

I was surprised when Jordyn asked to drive with meon Wednesday. But I’m glad she did because I need her beside me to do this.

“You think Dove took it?” I ask after she finishestelling me about her missing teddy bear.

“She asked if she could have it a few times,” shesays. “I know there’s a chance she might have thrown it out, but I still havesomething to do. I need to release my resentment towards her.” She takes abreath. “I saw Dove as a happy girl who hadn’t suffered. In my mind, she wasperfect. All because she didn’t show pain on the outside.”

“Dovewasin pain, Jordyn.”

“I realize now that every kid in our foster homearrived broken and having experienced some shit. My pain wasn’t greater thananyone else’s.”

I reach over to hold her hand.

After a minute or two, she says, “I know why Ilove salted caramel so much.”

“Why?” I look at her for a second.

“Um, my momma would bring me to get ice cream onSundays. Salted caramel was her favorite. Her eyes would just sparkle.” Sheblows a shaky breath. “After she left, Grandma never let me have ice cream oranything sweet. She barely gave me food. Sometimes, she’d force me to sit andwatch her eat while I’d be crying cause I was so hungry.” Her voice hitches.“Fuck. Every single day was torture. I hated Momma for leaving me, and therewere times I wish I hadn’t been born.”

Hearing the pain in her voice and those sad wordsmakes me hurt for her. I give her hand a loving squeeze. “You’re here now,baby. You survived. You’ll get through it. I know you will.”

I look over in time to catch her smiling at methrough the tears.

“Thank you,” she says in a close whisper.

Following the route on the GPS, I turn down a longroad with houses and trees on both sides. The area looks peaceful, and I wonderif Dove was happy growing up here.

The organ in my chest increases speed as the GPSannounces that the address is coming up on my right.

I slow down outside the one-level ranch. It’s awell-kept, modest house with rose bushes at the entrance.

There’s an SUV on the driveway.

“This is it,” Jordyn says and turns to me. “Areyou ready?”

“I’m not sure.” I squeeze the steering wheel. “I’mnervous. I almost expect to see Dove.”

She rubs my arm. “If it’s too difficult, we couldtry another time.”

I shake my head and turn off the engine. “No. Ihave to do this today. Come on.”

We file out of the car at the same time, and Ihold Jordyn’s hand as we walk to the front door.

A man with salt and pepper hair and a low beardopens it before we knock, pushing out the screen door. He’s older now, but Iremember him a little, way more than I recall Jordyn’s parents.

“Caleb?” Mr. Michaelson confirms.

“Yes, sir.” I shake his hand. “Thank you forallowing me to come. This is my girlfriend, Jordyn. She was also at the fosterhome.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she says sincerely.

His aged bluish eyes soften as he shakes her handnext. “Jordyn. Dove also spoke about you.”

She blinks in amazement. “Really?”

“Yes. Please, come in.” He lets us into the houseand leads us to the living room.

Mrs. Michaelson stands from her chair. “Hello.”

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