Page 43 of If You Claim Me

It is the most incredible space I’ve ever seen.

And for the next however-many months, it’s mine.

I can hardly believe it.

I remind myself that it’s temporary. Eventually I’ll have to part with it.

But I’m used to having and losing.

CHAPTER 12

CONNOR

Despite the temptation to check on her, I leave Mildred alone for the rest of the afternoon. She agreed to move in without an actual fight, and she even brought all her friends over—though probably as a safety measure, and so they could see for themselves that she wasn’t being treated like the captive I said she was. But it made Meems deliriously happy. And it felt nice to be part of something, even if it isn’t real.

I knock on her door at dinnertime, but get no answer. I try the library, but it’s empty, so I resort to texting.

Connor

Dinner is usually served at six.

Mildred

Thanks. I’m with Meems in the living room.

Of course she’s hanging out with my grandmother.

I find the two of them playing Connect Four.

“I haven’t played this since you and your sisters were young. I’d forgotten how much I loved it,” Meems says, motioning to the seat next to Mildred.

“I was maybe six when I played my first game of ConnectFour,” Mildred replies, dropping another red circle in. “One of my foster families loved board games. We played them all the time. That was the home I stayed at the longest.”

“How long were you there?” Meems asks.

“Almost nine months. Before them I only lasted a few months in any one place, if that. The foster parents in that home were great, Darryl and Mindy.” She smiles fondly. “They were so patient with me and Hector. Especially Hector. He could be a real hellion.”

That means for three years after her parents died, she was shuffled from home to home. And the longest she’d ever stayed in one place was less than a year? She’d just get settled, and then it would end. It must have been impossible to feel secure, to form attachments. “What happened that you had to leave that place?” I ask.

“Mindy got pregnant. They wanted to be able to focus on their baby.” She drops in another red chip.

“I’m so sorry,” Meems face falls.

“Don’t be. It was an amazing nine months. They were great foster parents, and they deserved to have a baby of their own.”

Ethel appears. “Dinner is served when you’re ready.”

“Perfect timing.” Mildred drops another chip in. “Connect Four.”

She stands and offers Meems a hand.

I spend dinner watching her with Meems, unable to take my eyes off her. She’s the definition of a miracle. By all rights, she should have followed in her parents’ footsteps, but here she is, a beautiful gift.

“You grew up in Toronto, right?” Mildred asks Meems as we eat.

“I did. My father was a contractor.”

“Did he build this place?”