Too True To Be Good

1 Gianna Brooks fell into her overworked wooden office chair with a loud huff of breath. It was days like today she hated her job as a placement counselor working with foster kids. Yeah, she knew the job was valuable, but it wasn't easy. Ever. She eyed the little girl sitting across the desk from her. Her big brown eyes were looking around Gianna’s office, taking in the old, rusty file cabinet, paperwork covering the top and spilling out of the opened drawer at the bottom. Her desktop was buried under more paperwork that should have been in the overflowing file cabinet. Or the stuffed boxes on the floor. The girl's brown eyes landed on Gianna, and she pulled her lip between her teeth. Gianna understood the anxiety she was feeling, she'd been there. Seventeen years ago Gianna was sitting on that side of the desk, staring at the counselor who was going to take her to her first foster home. Summer Masterson looked lost. Her dark, curly hair bounced around her shoulders with every movement of her head. Her eyes darted around the room, probably looking for an escape, but there wasn't one. The freckles that covered the girl’s cheeks were identical to the ones on her mom's cheeks in the picture she held to her chest. The picture the little girl insisted was of her father. Gianna had done her research though. Summer's mom was eighteen when she had Summer. No father was listed on the birth certificate. Summer said her mother told her about a magical week she'd spent at a vineyard called Amavita Estates someplace in New York. Zach, the girl's supposed father, worked there. Gianna promised she would look into it, but she didn't think there'd be much of a chance at finding him. Twelve years later, the chances of finding a summer worker named Zach at a vineyard in New York wasn't much to go on. Even with the name of the place. She had to put the girl in a foster home until she found out if the father existed. Which was the part she was dreading. Gianna wasn't a fool. She knew a lot of people signed up to be foster parents so they could get the checks from the state, checks that would allow them to do as little as possible for the kids but still get the cash. Yes, there were good homes too, people who honestly loved kids and wanted to share that love with kids who needed it. Gianna wanted desperately to place Summer in one of those good homes, but she couldn't. They were full, like they usually were. All counselors went to the good homes first. When the good homes were full, kids had to go to the homes that were less than perfect. Which was where Summer was going. Gianna wished she could do more for the girl. Losing her mother the way she had was horrible. Even worse was they had no family and Summer's mom didn’t have any close friends who were willing to take her in. There was no will offering any possibilities for Summer either. So she fell to the system. To Gianna. "Summer, I have a few more things to finish here then I'll take you to your new home. I promise to look into the man at the vineyard and if I find him we will do a test to see if he is your biological father. If so, hopefully he'll be willing to take you. If not, we'll go from there." Summer nodded, still not speaking to Gianna. She’d barely said a word since Gianna told her she was going to have to take her to a foster home. She was cradling her arm, the one she broke in the accident that killed her mother. Gianna could only imagine the pain she was in, but Summer hadn't complained. She'd been sitting quietly in the chair in Gianna's office all morning. She was the most well behaved kid Gianna had ever met, and it killed her to know the foster system would likely break her. "May I have a drink?" Summer asked quietly. "Yes, of course," Gianna said with a grin. She stood and left the room, searching out a bottle of water. They were going to get lunch soon, but Summer had already been there for hours. Gianna thought about bringing her a snack, but she decided to ask Summer if she wanted something to eat before she grabbed a bag of pretzels or some candy. She took an extra bottle of water for herself and headed back to her office. Elizabeth, one of her friends and coworkers, stopped her. "Gianna, can you help me for a minute?" "Of course. What's up?" Gianna followed Elizabeth into her own equally cluttered office. She eased down into a chair that matched the one Summer was sitting in in Gianna's office. Elizabeth pulled up a file on her computer and spun the monitor to let Gianna see it. "The Hollins kids, Tony and Peter, they're being split up. I know you helped place them together. Mr. Montgomery is sick so they're getting out of the program. Do you know anywhere we can put two teenage boys?" Gianna couldn't believe that was happening. She'd worked so hard to keep Tony and Peter together. Those boys needed guidance and a strong male role model or she knew they'd end up fighting their way through school and probably finish their foster time in juvenile detention. She didn't want to see that happen to them. But she also didn't know where to put them. "s**t," Gianna swore under her breath. Most homes didn't like to take teenage boys, but even the homes that willingly took them weren't too good with them. It was easy for teenagers to fall through the cracks. God, she really hated her job sometimes. "I'll have to look into it. Maybe we can shuffle a few kids around so we can keep them together. Can you pull together a list of the homes that can accommodate two boys and the names of who is with them? We can go from there and see what we can do. I hate to move kids that are doing well, but I also hate to split up siblings." "I know," Eliabeth said softly, well aware of how Gianna felt about the situation. "I need to get back to Summer, but let me know when you have the list and we can talk through the options." "Okay. Thanks, Gee." Gianna smiled on her way out the door. She wasn't sure she would be able to help the boys. Losing a home like the Montgomery's would be a challenge going forward. They were the people everyone wanted to stay with. Kind, caring, affectionate. People who hadn't been able to have their own children, but always wanted to, so they opened their home to foster kids. They'd helped more than their fair share of kids, but they were both approaching 70, and Gianna had known for a while it was only a matter of time before they would stop taking kids in. Back in her office she found the room empty. Knowing Summer had learned first thing where the bathroom was, Gianna wasn't worried about her. She sipped the bottle of water she brought herself and figured she'd use the few minutes to look for options. For Summer, and for Tony and Peter. Gianna looked back up at the clock and realized almost 30 minutes had passed since she'd stepped back into her empty office. She worried Summer had gotten sick and went to check on her. The women's restroom on their floor was dated, but functional. With the only four stalls, you couldn't hide in there. Gianna pushed through the door and called out, "Summer, are you okay sweetie?" Silence greeted her so she listened closely, waiting to hear the muffled sounds of crying. Too many times she'd found kids in the bathroom crying over the loss of their parent or parents. It was the loneliest time in the world for a child, to go from loved and cared for to completely alone. Gianna worked her way further into the bathroom. She checked the first stall, but it was empty. So were all the others. Panic started to set in, but Gianna told herself she'd never lost a child. She wasn't going to lose Summer. She rushed to the kitchen, wondering if she'd taken too long and Summer had gone to get her own water. Her office was still empty also. She started freaking out, wondering where Summer could have gone. "Elizabeth, have you seen Summer?" she asked, stopping by her friend's office. "Oh, no, Gee, is she gone?" Gianna shook her head. "I don’t know. She asked for some water then I stopped to talk to you and she was gone when I got back. I figured she was in the bathroom. What am I going to do?" "What you do best. Find her and help her. She's only eleven, she can't have gone far." Renewed by her friend's words, Gianna raced back to her office. She snatched Summer's file from the top of one of the piles on her desk and headed out. She went by Summer’s old apartment first. Then she stopped by her school. She called her mother's friends and they all assured her they would call if Summer showed up. It started to rain outside and Gianna cursed herself for not taking better care of Summer. An eleven year old girl was running around Boston alone because Gianna hadn't been paying close enough attention. She pulled over into an empty parking lot and rested her head against the steering wheel in her beat up old Corolla. With the case file in her lap, she flipped through, praying for inspiration. When her eyes fell to the empty slot next to 'Father,’ Gianna had a sinking feeling. "No," she whispered to the silence around her. There was no way an eleven year old would get on a bus to go to New York and find her father. Would she? Gianna knew the truth. If it had been her, she would have done anything to find a place where she belonged. Anything to find someone who could love her. Why would Summer be any different? Gianna's heart sunk with the realization that it'd been hours since Summer disappeared from her office. She had to face the truth. Summer was gone. Zach Bennett was tired. It'd been a long few days in the restaurant with his new back-up. After years of doing it all on his own, Dillon and Henry, two of his cousins and fellow employees at Amavita Estates, convinced him to hire someone else. He couldn't lie, having help was nice, but training someone new sucked. Especially when that person had her own idea of how things should be done. That wasn't going to fly in Zach's kitchen. He pulled a bottle of his favorite Syrah out of the wine rack and uncorked it. While the wine breathed, he reached down two glasses, one for him and one for Mandi, or was it Candi? Zach didn't care. He knew it made him an a*s, but he wasn't actually getting into a relationship with any of them. They filled a need for him, not anything permanent. And it worked both ways. They knew he wasn't settling down material either. When a soft knock sounded at the door, Zach grinned. He poured two glasses of wine and took them with him, balancing both in one hand while he turned the knob. The smile on his face faded when he saw a little girl standing on his porch. She looked up at him with huge brown eyes, adorable freckles covering her cheeks, and curly, dark hair. Her hair was matted on one side like she'd been sleeping on it, and she looked exhausted. In her hand, the one that didn’t have a cast covering half her arm, was what looked like a picture. "I'm sorry, but this isn't the inn. Did you lose your parents?" When the girl's lower lip trembled and her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, Zach's heart started to pound. She nodded, and her tears spilled down her cheeks, making streaks in the dirt that covered her face. "Why don't you come inside and I'll call the inn? I'm sure your mommy and daddy are looking for you." The girl shook her head but followed him in. She glanced around his home, a simple two bedroom that he shared with his cousin Henry until recently. Zach’s favorite was the updated kitchen. He liked to experiment with new recipes and it was set up perfectly for it. The house was comfortable for him. His large living room overlooked the kitchen so he could watch tv while he cooked, not that he watched much besides sports. Two bedrooms were off to the side, each with a private bathroom. They didn’t have an upstairs, like many of the houses on Amavita Estates property, but the house was plenty big enough for Zach. His room had a queen sized bed, dresser, and chair to sit and read, one of Zach's only hobbies. The girl went to the living room and sat on Zach's navy microfiber couch. Tears snuck down her face, making Zach feel completely helpless. He wished his sister, Kristen, were there. Or his mother. Anyone who could help the little girl better than he could. Zach grabbed a washcloth from the kitchen and ran it under cool water. He brought it back to her and held it up, silently asking if he could clean her face. She nodded and he set to work, gently wiping the dirt off her. As he uncovered more freckles, Zach couldn't help but think she was adorable. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn't place her, or her parents. He was sure they'd eaten in the restaurant at some point over the last week. Why else would she look familiar? When he finished cleaning her face he looked her over more closely. Her clothes looked like she'd been in them for a while. She smelled a little, like it'd been a few days since she'd had a good shower. Her brown eyes were hollow and sad, a sight that made Zach's heart c***k even more than the cast on her arm. Something about the girl was getting to him, and he didn't even know her. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Zach asked, dreading her answer as he nodded toward her cast. She shook her head, indicating she was not hurt, but also not okay. "Are you hungry?" he asked, knowing food could help solve most things. She nodded her head enthusiastically which made him smile. "Then how about I make us some dinner? Do you want to help me?" She nodded again. Zach offered her his hand and they both stood. He gestured to one of the bar stools for her to sit then searched the fridge for something to fix for dinner. "Do you like spaghetti?" Zach asked, hoping she was like his cousin’s twelve year old and loved pasta. When she nodded, he smiled. "What do you like on it? Sauce, butter, cheese?" She shrugged and Zach figured they'd get to that part later. He grabbed a jar of his homemade sauce from the fridge and set it on the counter. A box of spaghetti was in his pantry, even though he preferred to make his own. The girl seemed really hungry and he didn't want to make her wait. He filled a pot with water and set it on the stove, then heard a knock on the door. He glanced at the girl and knew he'd have to send his date away for the night. Maybe she'd be willing to come back the next day, but Zach couldn't throw the little girl out. Not when everything in him was saying she girl needed help. "Hey babe," Zach said as he opened the door. Mandi/ Candi leaned into him and tried to kiss him, but Zach turned his head so she caught his cheek. "Uh, what the hell was that for?” she asked in a disgusted voice. "I'm sorry, but something came up. Can I call you tomorrow?" "Something came up? Who the f**k is she?" "It's not like that. Just... I'll call you tomorrow." "You know what, Zach, don't bother. Have a nice life." She stormed off. As he watched her spectacular a*s sashay to her car, her bottle blonde hair trailing behind her, he wondered what he ever really saw in her. She was good in bed, but she wasn't a very nice person, and she definitely had a jealous streak. Something Zach didn't put up with. He closed the door as Mandi/ Candi tore away from his house, his thoughts of her disappearing with her car. Back inside he glanced at the girl. He realized she never told him her name. She was watching him intently, judging him, he was sure. "What's your name? I'm Zach Bennett." He offered his hand to her and she took it tentatively with her good arm. "Summer," she said quietly. "It's nice to meet you, Summer," Zach said with a grin. The sound of her name soothed him, making him feel better that he knew what to call her. The water started boiling so Zach brought it over to Summer and handed her the box of spaghetti. "Would you like to put the pasta in?" he asked. Summer nodded, grinning up at him. She grabbed a handful of spaghetti and dropped it into the pot. Two more handfuls and the box was empty. Zach took it back to the stove and stirred the spaghetti, checking the temperature of the water. Not one to have a meal without vegetables, Zach dug through the fridge for whatever he had. "How about a salad? Do you like salad, Summer?" She nodded and her eyes brightened just a bit. Wherever she was running from couldn't have been too bad if she was eating healthy. Zach estimated she looked about ten, but he was a bad judge of ages. She was smaller than Emily, but that didn’t always mean anything. "Tell me about yourself, Summer. Where are you from?" "Boston." Boston, Massachusetts? That was a bit of a trip. Zach hadn't heard anything in the last few days about a missing girl around Bereton, but there was no way she'd travelled from Boston all by herself. Was there? "When did you get here?" "Today." "Did you come with your mom?" She shook her head and dread filled him as her eyes filled with tears again. "With your dad?" She shook her head again. "Who did you come with?" Summer shook her head. He knew what she was saying. She'd come alone. Not sure if he wanted the next answer, he forced himself to ask the question. "What are you doing at Amavita Estates by yourself?" She extended the paper she'd kept tightly in her fist to him. As he reached for it, she said, "I'm here to find my dad." Zach looked down at the picture in his hand, crumpled and worn. But there was no mistaking who was in the picture. It was him.