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"That's right. Good things come in small packages," I said.

Butterfly beamed again.

"Picnic lunch today," I announced. "Near the tennis court."

Grandma Kelly wrapped sandwiches for us on weekends. We could choose from ham and cheese, just cheese, peanut butter and jelly or chopped egg, take a container of milk or juice, a small wrapped cake or cookie and spread a blanket on the grass. We almost felt like real people on beautiful weekend days. Raven hated when I said that.

"We are real people. It's not our fault no one's noticed lately," she would declare angrily.

Weekends were almost like auditions for us. Prospective adoptive parents were brought to the home to look at and talk to any child they might want to adopt. Having us working like little elves on the property was thought only to enhance our prospects, for potential mothers and fathers would see that we were productive and far from spoiled by our lives as wards of the state. Today was no different. Just after we had spread our blanket and sprawled out to enjoy our picnic, Louise came looking for Butterfly.

"There you are, Janet," she said walking over to us and gazing down at Butterfly. "They've seen your pictures and come to meet you," she declared in that official voice of hers. Whenever she took on that tone, I felt my heart flutter.

"Who?" Butterfly asked.

"Their names are Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart," Louise replied. "Come along, Janet. Brush down your dress, please," she ordered. She stepped up to her and played with her curls. "I hate when they just come by like this without a full day's warning."

"Don't they often come by on Saturdays or Sundays?" I asked.

"You know what I mean," she replied. I shook my head. "Honestly, Brooke, you can be so . . . uncooperative sometimes. Why don't you model your behavior on Crystal? She knows when to speak and when to be silent," she added.

"I speak when I have something to say and when I know it will do some good," Crystal said.

"See?" Louise followed, missing Crystal's sarcasm by a mile. "Janet, please stand up straight and don't squint so much. Come now, Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart are waiting."

Butterfly looked back at us nervously. I held my thumb up.

"Good luck," Raven called.

"I can't understand why she hasn't been grabbed up before now anyway," I said as they walked toward the house. "She's adorable, sweet, bright."

Crystal put down her book and looked at both of us.

"Each of us has something special, if anyone would ever take the time to notice. People shop for children these days almost the way they shop for everything else. They don't see us as people, just as another kind of possession. This home is like a department store. I'm tired of waiting, tired of feeling like a piece of merchandise," she added with uncharacteristic emotion. I raised my eyebrows.

"That's exactly how I feel," Raven said. "I just hate being looked over like an animal in the pet store."

"You better get used to being stared at, Raven," I joked. "You're beautiful. . . everyone looks at you."

Raven suddenly became subdued. "It's not like I ask for the attention; and besides, that kind of attention I don't need. You know I'm always trying to get people to see the real me, the singer, the one with dreams."

"I was only kidding, Raven, we know you don't go looking for boys to follow you around like puppies. They just do." I felt bad now; Raven was really upset.

"It's all right. I know you guys understand me. It's just that I get sad sometimes. I don't think I'll ever find anyone who likes me for me, not just for how good they think I'll make them look."

Crystal and I looked at each other sadly. We knew what it was like to feel like we'd never be loved.

Butterfly didn't come out again until we had finished lunch. We were just folding our blanket when she appeared, head down, walking slowly. Crystal was right about us all feeling like some item in a department store, I thought as I looked at Butterfly. How do you audition for life, for a family? Do you try to speak correctly? Do you smile as much as you can so they will think you're generally a happy person? Sometimes, they look at you closer than a doctor. You wonder if you should have washed behind your ears. Do you have bad breath? Shouldn't you be wearing the best thing you had? What were the right answers to their stupid questions? "How would you like living with us?"

How would we like it? What do you think? We'd hate it. We'd rather stay here and be nobody.

"What were they like?" Raven asked Butterfly immediately.

"They were nice," she said.

"Old or young?" Crystal asked.

"Not old. She's very pretty. She has nice eyes my color and my color hair. She said I looked like I could be their child."