The Truth According to Ginny Moon by Benjamin Ludwig (books to read for self improvement txt) 📕

The knitting needles make a clicking sound. “I see,” says Patrice. “I bet you were angry about the conversation you’d just had with Brian and Maura. What was it about?”

I am shocked. Because she gave me the thing I have to say and it’s true, mostly. Now I can just say it. I take my hand away and breathe. “They’re going to bring me to visit the home for girls who aren’t safe,” I say.

Patrice starts nodding her head. “Saint Genevieve’s. And you don’t want to go there?”

I think. Then I say, “No, I don’t want to go there.”

“It sounds like you got angry about having to leave the Blue House, and so you needed to get away for a little while to be by yourself. Have you thought about telling Brian and Maura that you’re angry and that you don’t want to go?”

I am confused. “No,” I say.

“Well, maybe you should. When you tell people that you’re angry, or that you don’t want to do something, then it shows that you care. And that’s what they’ve wanted all along, Ginny. Brian and Maura want to know that you like living with them. That you’d miss them if you had to go away. That it’s worth trying to get you to stay. The only thing they’ve seen you care about since you contacted Gloria on Facebook is your sister. About Krystal with a K, I mean. Now, that’s understandable, considering the circumstances, but aside from that, you haven’t shown anyone that you care about anything. You haven’t shown any interest in staying at the Blue House at all. I mean, your behavior has gotten a lot better, but you still don’t seem to want to stay.”

What this means is that Patrice doesn’t know anything about the reason I climbed out the window. She isn’t going to talk about Gloria or phones at all.

I smile.

“Why are you smiling?”

I want to clamp my hand over my mouth but I don’t. I don’t need to.

“Ginny, I asked why you’re smiling.”

“We are going to the Special Olympics basketball tournament on Sunday, January 23rd,” I say. Because it’s true even if it isn’t the answer to Patrice’s question.

“That’s great,” says Patrice. “I think it’s great that you’ve kept up with all the practices each week, even while Brian was in the hospital. I know he’s glad to be home. Are you still glad he’s home, too?”

I nod my head yes.

“Good,” says Patrice. “You and Brian have a special bond. It will be hard to go away to Saint Genevieve’s and leave him behind, don’t you think?”

I think. Then I nod my head yes.

“I bet you’ll miss the way he used to take you sledding, and all the fun you had going to the lake this past summer.”

That still wasn’t a question so I still don’t say anything.

“You won’t be able to do any of those things if you move to Saint Genevieve’s. How does that make you feel?”

I start picking at my fingers. I know what she wants me to say. There is only one answer that will make her happy and the answer is true even though I never have time to think about it. “It makes me feel sad,” I say.

Patrice keeps knitting. “I wonder if we could write down just how sad it makes you feel,” she says. “You know, on a piece of paper. I could do the writing for you, if you like. We could write a little note to Brian telling him how much you’re going to miss him. But Brian isn’t the only one in the Blue House who you’ll miss, I bet.”

“I’ll miss Maura and Baby Wendy too,” I say.

“Of course you will,” Patrice says. “Should we write to them all in the same note? Or do you think that we should write separate notes to each of them?”

But that was two questions. In my brain I see my Baby Doll on one side of the equal sign and on the other I see Brian and Maura and Baby Wendy. But one does not equal three at all. One is less than three, like this:

1 < 3

I can’t miss Brian and Maura and Baby Wendy as much as my Baby Doll because my Baby Doll needs me a lot more than they do. Because they’re safe. No one will hit them or hurt them. Brian and Maura and Baby Wendy don’t need me. So really one is greater than three this time even though the math isn’t right. Because taking care of my Baby Doll is greater than everything. Even math.

“What are you thinking, Ginny?” says Patrice’s voice.

“I am thinking about my Baby Doll,” I say without moving my head or eyes.

“Yes, well, I think we should probably talk about that a little, as well. I heard from my social worker friends again.”

I come up fast out of my brain. I look straight at her. Agamemnon grips my leg with his paws.

“They let me know that they’ve been having some meetings with Gloria, and the doctors who’ve been looking at Krystal with a K say she’s losing weight.”

“That’s because Crystal with a C is in jail,” I say. “She knows how to take care of it.”

“You may be right,” says Patrice. “The social workers are doing the best they can to help Gloria be a better mom. But—”

I interrupt. “Is she hitting it?”

“Not that anyone can tell. But—”

“Is she changing its diaper?” I say. “Is she staying with it at night?”

Agamemnon jumps down on the floor. He runs out of the room.

“Ginny, I knew this news would be surprising to you, but I need you to stay calm and listen. I have more to say.”

I grab the arms of the chair tight and wait.

“The social workers said that if Krystal with a K doesn’t stop losing weight, they’re going to have to take her out of the apartment. They’re going to have to take her away from Gloria.”

Everything